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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Connor Magan's Luck and Other Stories, by M.
+T. W.
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Connor Magan's Luck and Other Stories
+       Connor Magan's Luck; Why Mammy Delphy's Baby Was Named Grief; Sammy Sealskin's Enemy; Nannette's Live Baby; Brothers For Sale; A Story of a Clock; Naughty Zay; The Legend of the Salt Sea; The Man with the Straw Hat; Ruffles and Puffs; Sugar River; A Pioneer "Wide Awake"; Surprised; April Fools and Other Fools
+
+
+Author: M. T. W.
+
+
+
+Release Date: August 21, 2005  [eBook #16576]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONNOR MAGAN'S LUCK AND OTHER
+STORIES***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Bill Tozier, Barbara Tozier, Pilar Somoza, and the
+Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+(https://www.pgdp.net/)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 16576-h.htm or 16576-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/5/7/16576/16576-h/16576-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/5/7/16576/16576-h.zip)
+
+      The Table of Contents was not in the original edition.
+
+
+
+
+
+CONNOR MAGAN'S LUCK
+
+And Other Stories
+
+by
+
+M.T.W.
+
+Boston:
+D. Lothrop & Company,
+Franklin St., Corner of Hawley.
+
+1881
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: CONNOR DREAMS A DAY-DREAM.]
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+   Connor Magan's Luck
+   Why Mammy Delphy's Baby Was Named Grief
+   Sammy Sealskin's Enemy
+   Nannette's Live Baby
+   Brothers For Sale
+   A Story of a Clock
+   Naughty Zay
+   The Legend of the Salt Sea
+   The Man with the Straw Hat
+   Ruffles and Puffs
+   Sugar River
+   A Pioneer "Wide Awake"
+   Surprised
+   April Fools and Other Fools
+
+
+
+
+CONNOR MAGAN'S LUCK.
+
+
+[Illustration: "CONNOR."]
+
+
+"I'm in luck, hurrah!" cried Connor Magan, as he threw up his brimless
+hat into the air--the ringing, jubilant shout he sent after it could
+only spring from the reservoir of glee in the heart of a twelve-year-old
+boy. Giving a push to the skiff in which his father sat waiting for him,
+he jumped from the shore to the boat, and struck out into the Ohio
+river.
+
+Tim Magan, father, and Connor Magan, son, were central figures in a very
+strange picture.
+
+Let us take in the situation.
+
+It was a Western spring freshet. The Ohio was on a rampage--a turbulent,
+coffee-colored stream, it had risen far beyond its usual boundaries,
+washed out the familiar land-marks, and, still insolent and greedy, was
+licking the banks, as if preparatory to swallowing up the whole country.
+Trees torn up by the roots, their green branches waving high above the
+flood, timbers from cottages, and wrecks of bridges, were floating down
+to the Gulf of Mexico.
+
+It was curious to watch the various things in the water as they sailed
+slowly along. Demijohns bobbed about. Empty store boxes mockingly
+labelled _dry goods_ elbowed bales of hay. Sometimes a weak
+cock-a-doodle-doo from a travelling chicken-coop announced the
+whereabouts of a helpless though still irrepressible rooster. Back yards
+had been visited, and oyster-cans, ash-barrels and unsightly kitchen
+debris brought to light. It was a mighty revolution where the dregs of
+society were no longer suppressed, but sailed in state on the top wave.
+
+"It is an idle wind which blows no one good," and amid the general
+destruction the drift-wood was a God-send to the poor people, and they
+caught enough to supply them with fire-wood for months. Logs, fences,
+boards and the contents of steamboat woodyards were swept into the
+current. On high points of land near the shore were collected piles
+bristling with ragged stumps and limbs of trees. The great gnarled
+branches of forest trees sometimes spread over half the river, while
+timbers lodging among them formed a sort of raft which kept out of the
+water the most wonderful things--pieces of furniture, and kitchen
+utensils which shone in the sun like silver.
+
+Cullum's Ripple is a few miles below Cincinnati. Here the deep current
+sets close to the shore, making a wild kind of whirlpool or eddy that
+brings drift-wood almost to land; the rippling water makes a sudden turn
+and scoops out a little cove in the sand. It is a splendid place for
+fishermen, but quite dangerous for boats.
+
+Not far above Cullum's Ripple is situated the Magan family mansion, or
+shanty. The river is on one side, and two parallel railroads are on the
+other. On the top of the bank, and on a level with the railroads, is a
+piece of land not much longer or wider than a rope-walk, and on this
+only available scrap the Railroad Company have built a few temporary
+houses for their workmen. They are all alike, except that a
+morning-glory grows over Magan's door.
+
+The colony is called Twinrip possibly the short of "Between Strip." (If
+the name does not mean that, will some one skilled in digging up
+language roots, please tell me what it does mean?) The atmosphere around
+these cabins is as filled with bustling, whistling confusion as a
+chimney with smoke.
+
+Besides the water highway, on the other side, just a few feet beyond the
+iron roads, a horse-car track and a turnpike offer additional facilities
+for locomotion. Birds perch on the numerous telegraph wires amid wrecks
+of kites and dingy pennons--once kite-tails--nothing hurts them; and
+below the children of Twinrip appear just as free and safe, and seem to
+have as much delight in mere living as their feathered friends.
+
+The Magans were a light-hearted Irish family, whose cheerfulness seemed
+better than eucalyptus or sunflowers to keep off the fever and ague, and
+who made the most of the little bits of sunshine that came to them. Tim,
+a strong-armed laborer, was brakeman on the Road. His wife, a hopeful
+little body, a woman of expedients, was voted by her neighbors the
+"cheeriest, condolingest" woman in Twinrip.
+
+Good luck, according to her, was always coming to the Magans. It was
+good luck brought them to America--by good luck Tim became brakeman. It
+was good luck that the school for Connor was free of expense, and so
+convenient.
+
+Her loyalty to her husband rather modified the expression of her views,
+yet she often expatiated to her eldest on his advantages, beginning,
+"There's your father, Connor--I hope you'll be as good a man! remember
+it wasn't the fashion in the ould country to bother over the little
+black letters--people don't _have_ to read there--but you just mind your
+books, and some day you may come to be a conductor, and snap a punch of
+your own."
+
+No doubt Connor made good resolutions, but when he sat by the window in
+the school-room and looked at the dimpling, sparkling river, so
+suggestive of fishing, or at the green trees filled with birds, he was
+not as devoted to literature as a free-born expectant American citizen
+ought to be. The teacher was somewhat strict, and it may have been in
+some of her passes with Connor, the "bubblingoverest" of all her
+youngsters, that she earned the name of a "daisy lammer."
+
+But the boy knew some things by heart that could not be learned at
+school. To his ear, the steam whistle of each boat spoke its name as
+plainly as if it could talk. He need not look to tell whether a passing
+train was on the O. & M. or on the I.C. & L. He knew the name of every
+fiery engine, and felt an admiration--a real friendship for the
+resistless creatures.
+
+To climb a tree was as easy for him as if he were a cat; there were
+rumors that he had worked himself to the top of the tall
+flag-staff--which was as smooth as a greased pole--but I will not vouch
+for their truth. He could swim like a duck, and paddled about on a board
+in the river till an ill-natured flat-boatman often snarled out that
+"that youngster would certain be drowned, if he wasn't born to be
+hanged."
+
+But the delight of Connor's life was to "catch the first wave" from a
+big steamer. Dennis Maloney was his comrade in this perilous game. They
+rowed their egg-shell of a boat close to the wheel. Drenched with
+spray--for a moment they felt the wild excitement of danger. Four alert
+eyes, four steady hands kept them from being sucked under--then came the
+triumph of meeting the first wave that left the steamboat, and the
+extatic rocking motion of the skiff as she rode the other waves in the
+wake--but to catch the first was the point in the frolic! Connor was
+known to many of the pilots as an adept in "catching the first wave."
+Sometimes he was "tipped" by an unlooked for motion of the machinery,
+but was as certain as an india-rubber ball to rise to the surface, and
+a swim to shore was but fun to the young Magan.
+
+In the house, Mother Maggie was happy when little Mike was tied in his
+chair, and a bar put in the doorway to keep him from crawling into the
+attractive water, if he should break loose; and when the door was bolted
+on the railroad side, he was allowed to gaze through the window at the
+engines smoking and thundering by all day, and fixing each blazing red
+eye on him at night--an entrancing spectacle to the child. And when the
+still younger Pat was tucked up in bed sucking a moist rag, with sugar
+tied up in it, her world was all right, and at rest.
+
+But it would have taken a person of considerable penetration, or as
+Maggie said one who knew all "the ins and the outs" to see the peculiar
+good luck of _this_ day. The water was swashing round within a few feet
+of the door. Some of the workmen had moved their beds to the space
+between the tracks, which was piled up with kitchen utensils, and looked
+like a second-hand store.
+
+In these days of devotion to antiques, we hear dealers in such wares say
+that things are more valuable for being carefully used. This would not
+apply to Twinrip's relics. The poor shabby furniture looked more than
+ever dilapidated in the open daylight. The social air of a home that was
+lived in, pervaded this temporary baggage-room between the tracks. One
+child was asleep in a cradle, others were eating their coarse food off a
+board. When a sprinkling of rain fell, an old grandmother under an
+umbrella fastened to a bed-post went on knitting, serenely.
+
+Youngsters who needed rubbers and waterproofs about as much as did
+Newfoundland dogs, enjoyed the fun. One four-year old, sitting on a tub
+turned upside down, was waving a small flag, a relic of the Fourth of
+July--and looking as happy and independent as a king.
+
+It took all his wife's hopeful eloquence to comfort Tim. There was no
+water in Tim's cellar, because he had no cellar. The cow, their most
+valuable piece of property, was taken beyond the tracks up on the
+hillside, and fastened to a stake in a deserted vineyard. If the worst
+came to the worst, and they were drowned out of house and home, their
+neighbors were no better off, and they would all be lively together.
+That was the way Maggie put it.
+
+
+[Illustration: INDEPENDENT AS A KING.]
+
+
+"Do you moind, Tim," she said, "when Keely O'Burke trated his new wife
+to a ride on a hand-car? Soon as your eyes lighted on him you shouted
+like a house-a-fire, 'Number Five will be down in three minutes!'
+Didn't Keely clane lose his head? But between you, you pushed the car
+off the track in a jiffy. And Mrs. O'Burke's new bonnet was all smashed
+in the ditch, an' the bloody snort of Number Five knocked you senseless.
+Who would have thought that boost of the cow-catcher was jist clear good
+luck? And you moped about with a short draw in your chist, and seemed
+bound to be a grouty old man in the chimney corner that could niver
+lift a stroke for your childer, ah' you didn't see the good luck, you
+know, Tim--but when the prisident sent the bran new cow with a card tied
+to one horn, an' Connor read it when he came home from school: '_For Tim
+Magan, who saved the train. Good luck to him!_'--wasn't it all right
+then? Now you are as good as new, and our mocley is quiet as a lamb, and
+if I was Queen Victoria hersel, she couldn't give any sweeter milk for
+me. She's the born beauty."
+
+Well, Connor was his mother's own boy for making the most and the best
+of everything, and _he_ saw several items of good luck this day.
+
+First: The river had risen so near the school-house that the desks and
+benches were moved up between the tracks and the school dismissed;
+therefore there was perfect freedom to enjoy the excitement of the
+occasion. It was as good as a move or a fire.
+
+Second: There was so much danger that the track might be undermined that
+all trains were stopped by order of the Railroad Company; therefore his
+father was at liberty.
+
+Third, and best of all: Larry O'Flaherty, who lived up Bald Face Creek,
+had lent him his skiff for the day. The boys had had an extatic time the
+evening before, hauling in drift-wood. Though the coal-barges had
+bright red lights at their bows, and the steamboats were ablaze with
+green and red signals, and blew their gruff whistles continually, yet it
+was hardly safe to go far from the shore at night because the Ripple was
+so near. When the river was _rising_ the drift was driven close to land,
+while _falling_ it floated near the middle of the river. Connor could
+see the flood was still rising, and there were possibilities of a
+splendid catch, for it was daylight, and they could go where they
+pleased with Larry's boat.
+
+Father and son pushed out into the river. Connor felt as if he owned the
+world. Short sticks and staves were put in the bottom of the boat. Both
+fishermen had a long pole with a sharp iron hook at the end with which,
+when they came close to a log, they harpooned it. Bringing it near, they
+drove a nail into one end, and tying a rope round the nail, they
+fastened their prize to the stern of the boat. They took turns rowing
+and spearing drift-wood; and when the log-fleet swimming after them
+became large, they went to shore and secured it.
+
+When the dripping logs were long and heavy, it was the custom to fasten
+them with the rope close to a stake in the bank, and leave them
+floating. At low water they were left high and dry on the sand.
+
+No other drift-wood gatherers meddled with such logs. They were
+considered as much private property as if already burning on the hearth.
+
+"I'm going up the hill to feed the cow, Connor," said his father, after
+a great deal of wood of every size and shape had been landed. "Mind what
+you are about, and take care of Larry's gim of a boat. It was mighty
+neighborly to lind it for the whole day. See now, how much drift you can
+pick up by yourself."
+
+Connor felt the responsibility, and worked diligently. He had twice
+taken a load to shore, and was quite far again in the stream, when he
+saw a strange sight. It was not Moses in the bulrushes, to be sure--but
+a child in a wicker wagon, floating down the current amid a lot of
+sticks and branches. The hoarse whistle of a steamboat near meant
+danger; and to the eye of Connor the baby-craft seemed but a little
+above the water, and to be slowly sinking.
+
+Connor's shout rang back from the Kentucky hills as if it came from the
+throat of an engine.
+
+No one answered.
+
+There were great logs between his skiff and the child--logs and child
+were all moving together. Should he abandon Larry's precious boat?
+
+Connor could not consider this. He plunged into the water and swam round
+the logs. He never knew how he did it--he never knew how he cut his
+hand--he never felt the pounding of the logs--he only knew that he
+caught the wagon, kept those black eyes above the water, and pulled the
+precious freight to shore. Then, while the water was streaming from him
+in every direction, he sprang up the few steps to his mother's cabin,
+and without a word placed the child, still in the wagon, inside the
+door!
+
+Running back as swiftly as his feet would carry him, Connor had the good
+luck to find the deserted boat close to shore, jammed in a mass of
+drift-wood, just in the turn of the Riffle.
+
+Dragging it up and along the shore, he fastened it to a fisherman's
+stake just by Twinrip. Then Connor felt he had discharged his
+duty--Larry O'Flaherty's boat was safe--high and dry out of reach of
+eddying logs.
+
+Now, eager, dripping, and breathless--with eyes like stars, he flew home
+again.
+
+"Oh, mother," he said, "she's fast to the post and not a hole knocked
+into her, and ain't her eyes black and soft as our mooley cow's and I
+found her before the General Little ran her down--and I'm going to keep
+her always--_I found her_--isn't it lucky we have a cow?"
+
+What the boy said was rather mixed--you could not parse it, but you
+could understand it.
+
+The baby's big black eyes looked around, and she acknowledged a cup of
+milk and her deliverer by a smile. It was a strange group. In the midst
+of a puddle of water Mother Maggie was leaning over the new comer and
+trying to untie the numerous knots in a shawl which had kept the child
+in her wicker nest. Little Mike was staring open-eyed at the beads round
+baby's neck, and at the coral horseshoe which hung from them. The pretty
+little girl seemed quite contented, and with the happy unconsciousness
+of infancy was evidently quite at home.
+
+"Poor baby, where did she come from?" said Mother Maggie. "Won't her
+mother cry her eyes out when she can't see her? We must advertise her in
+one of those big city papers."
+
+"I found her," said Connor, "she's mine."
+
+"Why, my boy," said his mother, "she's not a squirrel--you can't keep
+her as you did the bunny you found in the hickory tree, and not ask any
+questions!"
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+"I wish there were no newspapers, and that people couldn't read
+besides," wrathfully exclaimed Connor.
+
+"Maybe," he added, with hopeful cheerfulness, "both her father and
+mother are drowned. May I keep her then? She may have half of my bread
+and milk."
+
+Babies were no great rarity in Twinrip, but never was there such a
+happy, bright-eyed little maiden as this waif proved to be. Among the
+children she glowed like a dandelion in the grass, and reigned like a
+queen among her subjects.
+
+Connor was the scholar of the family, and at length his conscience was
+sufficiently roused to make him indite an advertisement which did him
+much credit. He hoped it might be placed in some obscure corner of the
+paper where it would be overlooked.
+
+But next day, in a conspicuous part of the _Cincinnati Commercial_, with
+four little hands pointing to it, appeared this rather unusual notice:
+
+     "_Found in the Ohio river a baby in white dress with black eyes and
+     red horseshoe round her neck, now belonging to Connor Magan. If the
+     father and mother are not drowned they can enquire at the house of
+     Tim Magan in Twinrip, where all is convenient for her with a cow
+     given by the President. None others need apply._"
+
+It was but the very next day after the "ad" appeared that a wagon drove
+down to Twinrip, with the father and mother of the baby.
+
+Didn't they cry and kiss and hug the lost, the found child! They lived
+on a farm in Palestine, a few miles up the river. A little stream ran
+into the Ohio close by their door, and the baby was often tied in her
+carriage and placed on the bridge under the charge of a faithful dog. It
+was a great amusement for her to watch the ducks and geese in the water.
+A sudden rise swept bridge and all away. Search had been made
+everywhere, but nothing had been heard of little Minnie. It had seemed
+like a return from death to read Connor's advertisement.
+
+And was not the brave lad that saved their child a hero! Again and again
+they made him tell all about the rescue. Of course they had to take
+their daughter home, but they made Connor promise to visit them at
+Palestine.
+
+Soon after the happy parents left, a watch came by express to the Magan
+homestead, and when Connor opened the hunting-case cover, after changing
+its position till he could see something besides his own twisted face
+reflected in it, and after wiping away the spray that would come into
+his eyes, he read:
+
+                    _CONNOR MAGAN._
+     _From the grateful parents of MINNIE RIVERS._
+
+Was not her name a prophecy?
+
+At the sill of the Magan homestead the flood had stopped, hesitated, and
+then gone back. Maggie always said she knew it would--they always had
+good luck. The little woman was happier than ever when she thought of
+the whole train of people that _might_ have been thrown into the
+ditch--of the cut-off legs, arms and heads, and the poor creatures
+without them that _might_ have been cast bleeding on the track, if it
+had not been for her faithful old Tim--and of the home with niver a
+baby, and of the darlint that would have been drowned in the bottom of
+the Ohio with her ears and eyes full of mud, if it had not been for her
+slip of a boy.
+
+As for Connor, he felt as if that bright-eyed girl belonged to him, and
+now that he had a watch towards it, he seemed almost a ready-made
+Conductor.
+
+When the waters subsided and he went back to school, he studied with a
+will. His percentage grew higher.
+
+"Sometime," he said to himself, "I will go to Palestine. I _will_ be
+_somebody_--maybe a Conductor! And a beautiful young woman with soft
+black eyes will wave her handkerchief to me as I pass by in my train!
+And after I make a lot of money"--how full the world is of money that
+young people are so sure of getting--"after I make this money I will
+bring Minnie back with me! And she will live in my house with me! And
+she will say, 'Conor I am so glad you fished me out of the Ohio with
+your drift-wood!' And won't _that_ be good luck for Connor Magan!"
+
+
+
+
+WHY MAMMY DELPHY'S BABY WAS NAMED GRIEF.
+
+
+Mammy Delphy was sitting out under the vines that climbed over the
+kitchen gallery, picking a chicken for dinner, and singing. And such
+singing! Some of the words ran this way:
+
+    "Aldo you sees me go 'long _so_,
+    I has my trials here below,
+    Sometimes I'se up, sometimes I'se down,
+    Sometimes I'se lebel wid de groun;
+              Oh, git out, Satan
+              Halla_lu_!"
+
+And these words sound queer to you as you read them, perhaps, but they
+did not sound queer when Mammy Delphy was singing them. I don't believe
+that a song out of heaven could be sweeter than this and other songs
+like it that dear old Mammy sings, with her turbaned head bobbing up
+and down and her foot softly keeping time to the melody. There is a sort
+of plaintive--what shall I call it?--_twist_ in her voice that makes you
+choke up about the throat, if you are a boy, and sob right out if you
+are a girl. And it makes you, somehow, remember, in hearing it, all the
+sweet, sad little stories that your mother has told you about your
+little baby sister who died before you were born; or, if you have stood
+in a darkened room, holding fast to some tender and loving hand, and
+looked at a face that was dear to you lying upon its coffin pillow, you
+think of that strange and sad time. And with these thoughts come, as you
+listen, other thoughts of flying angels and shining crowns, and
+wide-opened gates of pearl. A sweetness mixed with pain--that is, the
+feeling which Mammy Delphy's singing brings to you, though you could not
+describe it, perhaps, if you tried--at least that's the feeling it
+brings to me.
+
+    "I'll take my shoes from off'n my feet,
+    And walk into de golden street,
+              Glory, Halla_lu_!"
+
+sang Mammy. Sam and Jim and Joe came filing in. They had been--well,
+where _hadn't_ they been! They had been down to the Bayou, which ran a
+good quarter of a mile back of the place, "fishin for cat," and
+chunking at an unwary rabbit that had taken refuge in a hollow tree;
+they had been out in the field, cutting open two or three half-grown
+watermelons to see if they were ripe; they had been across the prairie
+to a _mott_ of sweet-gum trees, where they had stuck up the cuffs and
+bosoms of their shirts with gum and torn their trousers in climbing a
+persimmon tree to peep into a bird's-nest. And they were rushing across
+the yard in chase of a horned-frog when they caught sight of Mammy
+Delphy under the kitchen shed.
+
+"Let's go and get Mammy Delphy to give us some meat and go a
+crawfishin', boys," suggested Sam.
+
+"And I'm hungry, for one," added Joe.
+
+Accordingly they filed in, as I said, and stood for a moment listening
+to Mammy Delphy's song.
+
+"Give us somethin' to eat, Mammy, please," said Jim.
+
+"An' some craw-fish bait and a piece of string," put in the other two in
+a breath.
+
+"I ain't a gwine to do it, chillun," replied Mammy Delphy, giving them a
+gentle push with her elbow, for they were leaning coaxingly against her
+shoulders, "I ain't a gwine to _do_ it. Yer ma's got comp'ny for dinner
+and dat sassy Marthy-Ann done tuk herself to 'Mancipation-Day, an' Jin,
+she totin of Mis' May's baby to sleep, an' I ain't got _no_ time to
+_wase_ on yer. _Go_'long!" And as she spoke Mammy arose, chicken in
+hand, and went into the kitchen to get whatever the boys wanted, as they
+were perfectly aware she would, from the beginning.
+
+"Lawd o' mussy! Jest look at dat lazy nigger! Grief!" she exclaimed as
+she entered, "Grief, yer lazy good-for-nuthin' nigger, is yer gwine ter
+let dem sweet-taters burn clar up?"
+
+And seizing the collar of a negro man who sat nodding by the stove, she
+gave him a sound shaking. He opened his eyes, grinned and got up slowly,
+looking a little sheepish as he did so. At that moment the woolly head
+of Jin, the baby's little black nurse, was poked in at the door.
+
+"Daddy," she cried, "Miss May say as how she want you to come an' tie up
+her Malcasum rose, whar dem boys is done pull down."
+
+And Jin bestowed a withering look upon the culprits, who were already
+digging their fingers into the remnants of a meat-pie, and disappeared,
+followed by her father.
+
+"Mammy Delphy," said Joe, when they were out under the vines again and
+Mammy had recommenced her work, "what made you name Uncle Grief,
+_Grief_? That's a mighty funny name, _ain't_ it, boys?"
+
+"Well, chillun," said Mammy, plucking away at the chicken, "dat's so; it
+_is_ a curus name like; me'n de ole man--he dead an' gone, chillun, long
+fo' you was born;--me'n de ole man 'sulted long time 'bout dat chile's
+name an' he war goin' on six months old fo' we name him at all."
+
+"Well, how _did_ you happen to call him Grief?" insisted Joe.
+
+"Yes, honey, yes. 'Twar a long time ago, chile, when Mas' Will--dat's
+_yer_ pa (she nodded towards Joe) war a little fellow, heap littler'n
+you, heap littler, an' Mas' Charley--dat's _yer_ pappy (to the other
+two) war a baby. I war nussen _him_ long o' Grief an' Grief warn't name
+yet. Miss May--dat's yer all's Gramma whar died las' year--she use to
+come out to de back steps an' watch dem two babies nussen', Grief an'
+Mas' Charley bof at de same time in my lap; an' Mas' Will an'
+Jerry--dat's my little boy what war jes' 'bout his age--a-playing in de
+back-yard, an' sometime she laugh an' cry all at de same time an' she
+say: 'We is all one fam'ly, Delphy!' she say. Law's, chillun, dem _was_
+times! _You_ don't know nuthin' 'bout dem times. Disher house was full
+up all de time wid comp'ny; gran' comp'ny, what dress all de time in
+silk an' go walkin' 'bout under de trees an' ridin' 'bout over de
+prairie in de day time; and mos' every night dey call my ole man in to
+play de fiddle an' den, laws, how dem young folks dance! An' ole Mas'
+an' ole Mis' an' all de young ladies an gentlemen use to come down to de
+cabins--_dey_ was all burnt up, time o' de war--an' sakes, honey! de
+hosses an' de cayages an' de niggers an' disher big plantation, all
+shinin' wid corn an' cotton! Dem _was_ times!" And Mammy's old eyes
+lighted up as she went back to her youth and the glory of her family,
+for she still speaks with pride of her "fam'ly."
+
+"But Grief, Mammy?" said Jim.
+
+"Yes, honey, yes. Yer pappy and Grief war babies, an' Grief warn't
+named, an' Mas' Will an' Jerry was little boys, littler'n you. 'N one
+day Miss May, she come to the back do' an' call me. I was sittin' in
+disher very place dat day, nussin dem two babies, an' my mammy (she de
+cook), gittin' dinner in de kitchen. 'Delphy,' Miss May say, 'Delphy,
+does you know whar Will an' Jerry is? Dey ain't been seen sence
+breakfast dis mornin'.
+
+
+[Illustration: "YER PAPPY AN' GRIEF WAR BABIES, AN' GRIEF WARN'T
+NAMED."]
+
+
+"I felt curus-like dat minit, an' I jump up an' run all over de place
+lookin' for dem boys. 'Rectly all de house gals an' everybody--Mas' and
+Mis' an' everybody--commence to hunt for dem chillun. We look
+everywhere--in de hay-top, in de cotton gin-house, out on de
+prairie--_everywhere_. Den I saw Miss May--dat's yer granma, turn
+white-like, an' she say, 'Oh Delphy, oh James'--dat's yer grandpa--'de
+ole well in de field! de ole well in de field!'
+
+"Over in de bayou-field--it done full up now, ole Mas' had a well dug to
+water de hosses out in. It war kivered up wid some bodes.
+
+"I don't 'zactly 'member 'bout goin' over to de field, but when I got
+dar wid dem two babies in my arms an' stood 'long side o' Miss May--"
+
+Mammy Delphy spoke more and more slowly. She had stopped picking the
+chicken, and great tears were rolling down her cheeks. The boys stood
+stricken and silent.
+
+--"Stood 'long side o' Miss May, fus thing I hear war Jerry sayin'
+weak-like an' way down in de well: 'Don't you cry, Mas' Will! Hol' on to
+my neck, Mas' Will! Hol' tight, Mas' Will! I kin hol' you up. Don't you
+be feerd Mas' Will, I kin hol' you up! Don't you be feerd Mas' Will; I
+kin hol' you up!'
+
+"Ole Mas' lean over de well an' look in. Mas' Will he warn't as high as
+Jerry, an' Jerry he war standin in de water up to his neck an' hol'in'
+Mas' Will up out'n de water. An' dem chillun had been in dat well all
+day, honey, 'all day, an' my Jerry holdin Mas' Will out'n de water; an'
+dat water col' as ice! Den ole Mas' let down de rope dey fotch an' tole
+Mas' Will to ketch hol'. An Mas' Will--dat yer pappy, honey--he say,
+weak-like, 'Take Jerry too, pappy, take Jerry too!'
+
+"'We'll get Jerry next time,' says ole Mas'. An' Jerry help Mas' Will fix
+de rope roun' him an' dey pull him up out'n de water. He done fainted
+when dey got him out, an' he tuk de fever, an' dat chile war sick mos'
+six months, an' all de time he had de fever, he say: 'Take Jerry too,
+pappy, take Jerry too!' And when he come to hisself, he say right off:
+
+"'Where's Jerry? I want Jerry.'"
+
+Mammy Delphy stopped.
+
+"And where _was_ Jerry, mammy?" cried the boys, breathless.
+
+"'Where war Jerry?' Ole Mas' let down de rope an' say right loud: 'Ketch
+holt, Jerry my boy!' But Jerry couldn't ketch holt, chillen. Jerry war
+dead."
+
+"_Oh mammy!_"
+
+"Yes, chillun, yes. Dey rub him an' rub him, an' do everything to fotch
+him to life. But, my Jerry war dead. An' when me'n de ole man come home
+from de funeral--dey buried him in de white folks' buryin'-groun,' long
+side o' Miss May's little gal what died--an' put a tombstone at de
+head--when we come home from de funeral dat night, de ole man look at
+de baby on my lap an' he say, 'Delphy, honey,' he say, 'I think disher
+baby mout be name _Grief_.' An' we name him Grief."
+
+Mammy Delphy wiped her eyes and resumed her work. Then, looking up to
+the blue sky which shone between the vines, she began singing again:
+
+    "Call me in de mornin' Lord,
+    Or call me in de night,
+    I'se always ready Lord,
+             Glory Halla_lu_!"
+
+And the boys, subdued and silent, and for a moment forgetful of
+horned-frogs and crawfish, went away softly, as if leaving a grave.
+
+
+
+
+SAMMY SEALSKIN'S ENEMY.
+
+
+"Where going, Sammy Sealskin?".
+
+"Down to my kayah, Tommy Fishscales."
+
+"Is there any fish to-day?"
+
+"A few, they say, but there is lots of seals--plenty of 'em on the rocks
+in the bay."
+
+"All right; bring home something to your friend, Tommy."
+
+Sammy pushed off his kayah from shore. It was a funny sort of boat,
+according to our notions. It was only nine inches deep, and about a foot
+and a half wide in the middle, tapering to a point at either end and
+curving upward. It was about sixteen feet long. Its frame was of very
+light wood, and this was covered with tanned seal-skin. Sammy's mother
+was a Greenlander, and she could sew on seal-skin very handily, using
+sinews for thread; and she had covered her little boy's boat with
+seal-skin, leaving a hole in the centre just large enough to receive
+Sammy.
+
+When he had dropped into his place, he then laced the lower border of
+his jacket to the rim of the hole, and there he was all snug--not a drop
+of water could get in. Grasping his single oar, about six feet long,
+with a paddle at either end, and flourishing it in the water right and
+left, away swept the young fisherman.
+
+"I should think his craft would be top-heavy, and over he would go,"
+says some reader.
+
+One naturally would think his craft would be top-heavy and over he would
+go, as the kayah has no keel and carries no ballast, and if we should
+try a kayah, it would certainly be on land. But those Greenlanders learn
+to handle themselves so well that their kayahs will go dancing over the
+big billows and then fly through a ragged, dangerous surf. From their
+kayahs, too, they will fight the fierce white bear.
+
+Ah! Sammy, what is the matter?
+
+"Ugh-h-h-h!"
+
+Sammy gives a melancholy groan. He begins to suspect that his boat is
+leaking.
+
+_Could_ any one have slit the seal-skin bottom?
+
+The kayah is really settling.
+
+Sammy feels troubled. "I _must_ go home," he says.
+
+He turns his back upon the bright, beautiful sea, tufted with cakes of
+ice that seem in the distance like the white, pure lilies on a glassy
+pond, and paddles off home with good-by to the fishing, good-by to the
+black-headed seals, good-by to the low islands with their gulls and
+mollimucks and burgomeisters and tern and kittiwakes and
+eider-ducks--good-by to the long day's fun!
+
+"It makes me feel like a mad whale," said Sammy, "to be cheated out of
+my fishing. I wonder who cut my kayah!"
+
+Just then he looked off to the shore, and there stood Billy Blubber, an
+ancient enemy.
+
+"There's the fellow," said Sammy. "He slit my kayah, I know. If I had
+him, I'd eat him quicker than a tern's egg. Just see how he looks!"
+
+Billy did look exasperating. He saw everything and he enjoyed
+everything. Plainly he was the miscreant. He was waddling round on his
+stout little legs, flourishing a huge jack-knife, and grinning as if he
+were going to have a big dish of whale-fat for dinner. He looked comical
+enough. He was dressed in seal-skin, and was bobbing up and down in his
+mother's seal-skin boots. The women's boots are of tanned seal-skin,
+bleached white and then colored. The boots of Billy's mother were very
+gay. They were bright red ones. When Billy from his tent-door saw Sammy
+coming, he crawled into the huge big boots, and bare-headed rushed--no,
+waddled out, to greet the discomfited fisherman.
+
+"Billy, I'll give it to you?"
+
+"Will you, Sammy? Try it, old boy."
+
+Thereupon, he put his thumb to his nose and wriggled his finger as
+exasperatingly as any Yankee boy here in this enlightened land. His flat
+face, his black little eyes, his stubby little nose, his hair black as
+coal and long behind, but fashionably "banged" in front, the seal-skin
+suit, mother's big red boots, and the nasal gesture made a very
+interesting picture, and a most provoking one also.
+
+"Billy, you _will_ catch it!"
+
+"I should rather think you had caught it already. Did you bring any
+seal-fat, Sammy?"
+
+Sammy felt mad enough and hot enough to set the water to boiling between
+his kayah and the shore.
+
+"You had better run, Billy."
+
+"Plenty of time, Sammy."
+
+Sammy's kayah was now ashore. Sammy unlaced his jacket and let himself
+out of jail. Pulling his kayah high up the shore, he turned it over and
+let the water escape. There were two ugly gashes in the seal-skin
+bottom--just as he expected.
+
+"Now where's that Billy?" asked Sammy at last. But mother's red boots
+had prudently withdrawn.
+
+"I _will_ give it to him," said Sammy; "but I will mend this first."
+
+He took up his beloved kayah and walked to the little village. It was
+not very large. There were half a dozen seal-skin tents, a few houses of
+stone and turf, and one or two wooden buildings, besides the
+government-house that proudly supported the flag of Denmark.
+
+"What do you want, Sammy?" said his mother, as he appeared at the door
+of one of the seal-skin tents. She was sitting on a bed of reindeer
+skins.
+
+"I want needle and thread, mother. That Billy Blubber cut some holes in
+my kayah."
+
+"Billy Blubber did?"
+
+"Yes," said Sammy, "and I would like to sew him up in a seal-skin and
+drop him from the top of an iceberg into the sea."
+
+"Tut, tut, Sammy. It's a boy's trick. Let it go."
+
+"There," thought Sammy, shouldering his kayah and moving off, "that is
+what mother always says when Billy harms me."
+
+"Where are you going, Sammy?"
+
+"Off to mend my kayah, mother."
+
+"Nonsense! Only women can mend kayahs. I will fix it. You go off and
+take a walk, and then come to dinner. We are going to have a young
+seal."
+
+A seal! Wasn't that nice? Who wouldn't be a young Greenlander, own a
+kayah, and have seal for dinner? The prospect before Sammy made him feel
+better. The world, too, looked different.
+
+"What a nice place we live in!" thought Sammy. "I wouldn't live in
+Denmark for anything, old Denmark, where our rulers come from."
+
+The scenery about the Greenland village was indeed interesting. There
+was the blue sea before it, dotted with "pond-lilies." Off the mouth of
+the harbor, the icebergs went sailing by, so white, so stately, so slow,
+like a fleet almost becalmed. Back of the village swelled the rocky
+cliffs bare of snow now, and many rivulets went flashing down their
+sides from ponds and pools nestling in granite recesses. Away off,
+towered the mountains, their still snowy tops suggesting the powdered
+heads of grand old Titans sitting there in state.
+
+"Who wouldn't live in Greenland?" thought Sammy, entirely forgetting the
+long, cold, dark winter.
+
+However, it was summer then. He went back of his mother's seal-skin
+tent. There he could see a beautiful valley in the shadow of the
+cliffs. Moss and grasses thickly carpeted it. Little brooks went
+sparkling through it. There were flowers in bloom, poppies of gold,
+dandelions and buttercups, saxifrages of purple, white and yellow. "And
+trees were there?" asks a reader. Do you see that shrub just before
+Sammy? That is the nearest thing to a tree. It is pine. If the fat for
+cooking the dinner should give out, young Miss Seal may be warmed up by
+the help of this giant pine. As a rule, we are inclined to think that
+Sammy takes his seal same as folks who like "oysters on the shell"--raw.
+
+"Ky-ey! Ky-ey!"
+
+"My!" exclaimed Sammy. "What is that noise? It must be a dog
+somewhere--hurt!"
+
+Sammy started to the rescue.
+
+"Ky-ey! Ky-ey!"
+
+"It must be a dog," declared Sammy, and he expected to see one of those
+large Greenland dogs, wolf-like, with sharp, pointed nose, and ears held
+up stiff as if to catch every sound of danger in their dangerous
+travels.
+
+Sammy rushed up a little hill before him, and rushed in such a hurry
+that he did not think how steep the other side was. He lost his balance,
+and over he went, head down, seal-skin boots up, turning over like a
+cart-wheel.
+
+"Ky-ey! Ky-ey! Ah, Sammy! Ky-ey! Ky-ey! Catch him!"
+
+It was that old enemy, Billy Blubber, ky-eying in part, and laughing
+also as if he would split. He only expected to get Sammy to the top of
+the hill and there tell him he was fooled.
+
+"This though is better than a sea-lion hunt," thought Billy, and he
+roared again and shook till he threatened to come in pieces like a
+barrel when the hoops are off.
+
+"I will catch you and pay you," said Sammy.
+
+"Try it," defiantly shouted Billy, wearing now his own boots, having
+dropped his mother's red casings.
+
+Off went Billy. Right ahead, was a great gray ledge. There was a crack
+in the ledge big enough for a boy's foot. Billy was the boy to have his
+foot caught in it! He tried to pull it out, but the sudden wrench was
+not good for his foot, and there he stood yelling--he was ky-eying now
+in good earnest.
+
+"I have a great mind," thought Sammy, "to let you stay there. I wonder
+how you would like to stay and have a duck come along and nip off your
+nose."
+
+It would have been a nice little nip, for Billy's nose was quite plump.
+It looked like a fat plum stuck on to the side of a pumpkin.
+
+Well, how long should Sammy have kept him there?
+
+"Till the sun went down," says some one.
+
+The idea! Why, the sun in summer goes round and round and round, never
+setting through June and July. Then the sun begins to dip below the
+horizon, going lower and lower, till at last it disappears. For one
+hundred and twenty-six days Sammy and Billy did not see the sun. Through
+that long, dark night, the stars would shine, so white and solemn, down
+upon the ice and snow everywhere stretching. Until the last of July
+would have been a long time for plum-nosed Billy to stand with his foot
+in that crack. Suddenly, Sammy heard a noise. "What is that?" he asked.
+
+It was a walrus bellowing in the bay. Sammy turned toward the blue
+water. As he turned, he saw the minister standing near his chapel. Sammy
+thought of the text he preached from, the Sunday before, and he began to
+repeat it to himself:
+
+"_Love your enemies_--"
+
+"I guess I will let Billy stay here about an hour," said Sammy,
+meditating.
+
+"_Bless them that curse you_--"
+
+"I guess I will let Billy stay here half an hour."
+
+"_Do good to them that hate you_--"
+
+"I guess I will let Billy stay here ten minutes."
+
+"_And pray for them which despitefully use you_--"
+
+"I guess I will take Billy out now!" And Sammy ran towards the prisoner.
+
+"Billy, are you hurt?"
+
+Billy turned his head away, ashamed to speak.
+
+"Let me take your foot out."
+
+Billy's foot was about as fat as a bear's in July, and it came hard. He
+shook his head. His tongue stuck to his mouth like a clam to his shell,
+and moved not. Neither could he step.
+
+"I will take you on my back, Billy!" said Sammy.
+
+And that's the way they went home. Billy in his dress generally looked
+like a seal standing on his hind flippers, and Sammy resembled one
+also--nevertheless it was a pleasant sight.
+
+
+
+
+NANNETTE'S LIVE BABY.
+
+
+A good many years ago, in the city of Philadelphia, lived a little girl,
+named Nannette.
+
+One summer afternoon her mother went to pay a short visit to her aunt,
+who lived near by, and gave her little girl permission to amuse herself
+on the front door-steps until her return. So Nannette, in a clean pink
+frock and white apron, playing and chatting with her big, wax "Didy,"
+which was her doll's name, formed a pretty picture to the passers-by,
+some of whom walked slowly, in order to hear the child's talk to her
+doll.
+
+"You'se a big, old girl," she went on, smoothing out Didy's petticoats,
+"and I've had you for ever and ever, and I'se mos' six. But you grow no
+bigger. You never, never cry, you don't. You'se a stupid old thing, and
+I'm _tired_ of _you_, I am! I b'leve you'se only a _make b'leve_ baby,
+and I want a _real_, _live_ baby, I do--a baby that will cry! Now don't
+you see," and she gave the doll's head a whack--"that you don't cry? If
+anybody should hit _me_ so, I'd squeam _m-u-r-d-e-r_, I would! And then
+the p'lissman would come, and there would be an _awful_ time. There, now
+sit up, can't you? Your back is like a broken stick. Oh, hum, I'm tired
+of _you_, Didy."
+
+Leaving the doll leaning in a one-sided way against the door, Nannette
+posed her dimpled chin in her hands, and sat quietly looking into the
+street. Presently a woman came along with a bundle in her arms, and
+seeing Nannette and "Didy" in the doorway, went up the steps and asked
+the little girl if she would not like to have a real little _live_ baby.
+
+"One that will _cry_?" eagerly asked Nannette.
+
+"Yes, one that will cry, and laugh, too, after a bit," answered the
+woman, all the time looking keenly about her; and then in a hushed voice
+she asked the child if her mother was at home.
+
+"No--she's gone to see my auntie, shall I call her?" replied Nannette,
+jumping to her feet, and clapping her hands, from a feeling as if in
+some way she was to have her long-wished-for _live_ baby.
+
+"No; don't call her; and if you want a baby that will _cry_, you must be
+very quiet, and listen to me. Mark me now--have you a quarter of a
+dollar, to pay for a baby?"
+
+"I guess so," answered Nannette; "I've a lot of money up stairs." And
+running up to her room, she climbed into a chair, took down her money
+box from a shelf, and emptying all her pennies and small silver coin
+into her apron, ran down again.
+
+"This is as much as a quarter of a dollar, isn't it?"
+
+The woman saw at a glance that there was more than that amount, and
+hastily taking poor little Nannette's carefully hoarded pennies, she
+whispered:
+
+"Now carry the baby up-stairs and keep it in your own little bed. Be
+careful to make no noise, for it is sound asleep. Don't tell anybody you
+have it, until it cries. Mind that. When you hear it cry, you may know
+it is hungry."
+
+Then the woman went hurriedly away, and Nannette never saw her again.
+
+Nannette's little heart was nearly breaking with delight at the thought
+of having a real, live baby; and holding the bundle fast in her arms,
+where the woman had placed it, she began trudging up-stairs with it.
+Finally puffing and panting, her cheeks all aglow, she reached her
+little bed, and turning down the covers, she put in the bundle and
+covering it up carefully, she gave it some loving little pats, saying
+softly, "_My_ baby, my real, little live baby that will _cry_!" And then
+she carefully tripped out of the room and down-stairs again.
+
+Very soon Nannette's mother came home, bringing her a fine large apple,
+which drove all thoughts of the baby from her mind, and it was only when
+night came, and she was seated at the supper-table with her papa and
+mamma that she remembered her baby; but at that time, suddenly, from
+somewhere that surely was in the house, came a baby's cry; and clapping
+her hands, her eyes dancing with joy, Nannette began to slide down from
+her chair, saying with great emphasis, "That's _my_ baby."
+
+Her mother laughed. "_Your_ baby, Nannette?"
+
+"Yes, mamma, _my_ baby; don't you hear it _cry_? 'Tis _hungry!_" And she
+started to run up-stairs, but her mother called her back.
+
+"Why, Nannette, what ails you? What do you mean about _your_ baby?" she
+asked in surprise.
+
+"Why MY BABY, mamma! I bought it for a quarter of a dollar! a baby that
+_cries_--not a mis'ble make b'leve baby. Oh, how it _does_ cry! it must
+be _awful_ hungry!" And away she darted up the stairs.
+
+Her father and mother arose from their seats in perfect amazement, and
+followed their little girl to her room, where, lying upon her bed, was
+a bundle from which came a baby's cries. Nannette's mother began to
+unfasten the wrappings, and sure enough there was a wee little girl not
+more than two or three weeks old looking up at them with two great wet
+eyes.
+
+Of course Nannette was questioned, and she related all she could
+remember of her talk with the woman from whom she bought the baby. Her
+papa said perhaps the baby had been stolen, and that something had been
+given to it to make it sleep.
+
+"But what shall we do with it?" asked both the father and mother. "_Do_
+with it?" cried Nannette. "Why, it is _my_ baby, mamma! I paid all my
+money for it. It _cries_, it does! I will keep it always."
+
+So it was decided, that the baby should stay, if nobody came to claim
+it, which nobody ever did, although Nannette's papa put an advertisement
+in a newspaper about it.
+
+It would take a larger book than this one in which to tell all of
+Nannette's experiences in taking care of "_my_ baby," as she called the
+little girl, whom she afterward named Victoria, in honor of the then
+young queen of England.
+
+Victoria is now a woman, and she lives, as does Nannette, in the city of
+Philadelphia. She has a little girl of her own, "mos' six" who is named
+Nannette for the good little "sister-mother," who once upon a time
+bought her mamma of a strange woman for a quarter of a dollar, as she
+thought. And this other little Nannette never tires of hearing the
+romantic story of the indolent "Didy" and the "real little live baby
+that will _cry_."
+
+
+
+
+BROTHERS FOR SALE.
+
+
+Molly was six years old; a plump, roly-poly little girl with long,
+crimpy golden hair and great blue eyes. She had ever so many brothers;
+Fred, a year older than herself, and who went to the Kindergarten with
+her, was her favorite. Molly was very fond of swinging on the front-yard
+gate; a forbidden pleasure, by the way. This is the preface to my story
+about Molly.
+
+One windy, sunny day the little girl was "riding to Boston" on the front
+gate; she had swung out and let the wind blow her back again a half
+dozen times, and she was happy as a captain on the high seas, enjoying
+the swaying, dizzy motion.
+
+Every little girl--and many a boy--has swung on a gate, standing tip-toe
+on the lower bar, leaning the chin on the upper bar; and as the gate
+swayed outward, watched the brick pavement rush under foot like a swift
+stream, all the time dreaming she was a steamboat.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+In some such position, with some such thoughts. I suppose, was our Molly
+when a strange cry reached her ears.
+
+"Brothers for sale? Brothers for sale? Got any brothers for sale?"
+
+"Dot a plenty," said Molly as the gate swung plump against the oddest
+great man.
+
+He was very tall, wore a huge fur cap, and great coat that reached from
+his chin to his ankles. The pockets were evidently so full that they
+bulged out on all sides, and his red belt was stuck full of every odd
+toy imaginable.
+
+He had besides, an enormous pack on his back.
+
+Molly's eyes, always wholly devoted to the business of seeing, observed
+all this.
+
+But she only remarked, "What makes your face so _rusty_?"
+
+Perhaps he didn't hear her; anyway he repeated his cry, "Brothers for
+sale? Got any brothers for sale?" and was moving on when Molly's piping
+voice screamed after him, "Tell yer _yes_; dot a plenty!"
+
+This time he stood still.
+
+"Dot one, two, free--many's _ten_ I fink. Tommy, he's naughty, calls my
+rag dolly a meal-bag--I'll sell him. He's a drefful wicked boy; he snaps
+beans at the teacher and gets a whipping every single day."
+
+"I'll take him," said the big man. "How much shall I pay you--what shall
+I give you for him?"
+
+"A han'kercher with some _perfoomery_ on it."
+
+"Yes, yes, here you have it," he said, and taking a great bottle from
+his belt, and a little blue-bordered handkerchief from one pocket, he
+sprinkled it profusely with some real cologne and gave it to the
+delighted child.
+
+"Any more brothers for sale, little girl? I'm in want of some boys?"
+
+"Yes, sir! You can have Johnny, he tears up my dolls and mamma lets him
+wear my bestest sash--_and_ the baby, he gets the coli'c and
+screams--_and_ Harry, he won't bring in the wood for mamma, and he eats
+up my candy and has cookies for supper and I don't, _and_--"
+
+"I'll take 'em all," grunted the big man.
+
+"I'll sell Harry for a doll with _truly_ hair and a black silk and
+ear-rings and some choc'late ca'mels," said she with the air of an old
+trader.
+
+"What luck!" he laughed; and diving into another pocket, he brought
+forth a handful of candy and filled Molly's apron pockets, then taking
+off his great cap he shook down a lovely doll, with _truly_ hair indeed,
+long and curly, dressed in a black silk with train and pull-back just
+like mamma's.
+
+"And what'll you sell Jonathan for?"
+
+"Johnny, you mean--you can have him for a kitten sir."
+
+In an instant the fur cap was off, and a little mewing kitten was
+produced, for her wondering and delighted gaze.
+
+"And the baby--he wouldn't be worth much to me--"
+
+"Well, he is to me--but I'll sell him for a red cardinal sash and a
+little sister 'bout as big as Tilly White."
+
+"Whew!" he exclaimed, "you most take my breath away! but here's the
+sash--a beauty, too--I don't happen to have any little sisters with me,"
+feeling of the outside of his pockets, peering into his pack, and even
+taking off the great cap and shaking it as if a little girl _might_ be
+folded up in that. "No, really I haven't a little sister about me, but
+don't you cry; I'll bring one round to-morrow--and now I must be picking
+up these brothers--where are they?"
+
+"Baby Willie is in the back-yard in his carriage and Johnny and Harry
+are playing _fooneral_ with him," said she, gravely.
+
+"But that wasn't all; don't cheat me, little girl!" frowned the big
+freckled-faced man.
+
+"No! I wasn't going to--Tommy--he's in the yard round the corner there
+with the big boys--he's 'leven--he's my greatest brother--he's a drefful
+wicked boy--" Molly was going on with the bean-story very likely, but
+at that moment the funeral procession of a baby carriage and two
+followers filed up.
+
+The great man darted forward, seized three-year-old Johnny and Harry in
+his arms, stuffed one head-first, the other legs-first, into the
+monstrous pack.
+
+The one that went in head-first had his fat legs left dangling; the one
+that went in legs-first, his head sticking out.
+
+The baby went into one of his deep pockets where his screams were
+stifled.
+
+This was the work of a second and the man hurried out of sight, saying
+cheerily over his shoulder to Molly, "I'll bring round the little sister
+to-morrow."
+
+Molly had so many things to take her attention that she had no time to
+be conscience-smitten.
+
+There was her odorous handkerchief; her sash, which she hung over her
+arm; her pockets full of candy; under one arm the wonderful doll; under
+the other, the live kitten.
+
+But in a half hour the doll had ceased to charm; she couldn't tie the
+sash herself; the "perfoomery" had evaporated; the kitten had scratched
+her hand because Molly had picked her up by the tail; only a few
+chocolate caramels were left, and, I suspect that all seemed as "vanity
+of vanities" to poor Molly. Just then Fred, her favorite and only
+remaining brother, came dancing down the path and stopped, amazed before
+Molly's display of wealth.
+
+
+[Illustration: SHE COULDN'T SPARE FREDDIE.]
+
+
+Somehow the "choc'late ca'amels" tasted sweeter again when she shared
+them with Fred, and she couldn't help saying, "Ain't they _boolicious_,
+Freddie?"
+
+She hadn't time to tell Freddie how she came possessed of all her
+treasures, for there again appeared at the gate the same great man, with
+his cry, "Brother for sale!"
+
+"No, no!" screamed Molly, throwing her two fat arms round Fred, at the
+same time crying, "Run away Freddie, quick! run away."
+
+Now considering that Fred had the doll and the kitten in his lap, and
+his sister's arms around his neck, it wasn't strange that the little
+fellow didn't run.
+
+"I'll give you ten dollars for this boy," said the great man, unwinding
+Molly's arms, and picking fat Fred up, and thrusting him like a roll of
+cotton batting under his arm.
+
+Molly screamed and--and--well--she woke.
+
+She hadn't been swinging on the gate at all; there wasn't any horrid,
+_rusty_-faced man standing by her; she had been asleep in school and
+dreaming.
+
+But she couldn't believe it; and with all Miss Winche's kind coaxing,
+she wouldn't lift her face from her desk, and would only sob, "I want my
+Freddie! I want my Freddie!"
+
+The funniest part of it was, the child hadn't been asleep five minutes.
+She had been idly listening to a spelling class, and just after the
+word "_sail_" dropped into a nap.
+
+By the way, perhaps I should not omit to mention that before she went to
+school that morning she had declared to her mother that boys were
+_bothers_; no wonder! baby Willie, at breakfast, had punched his little
+fist down into her mug, spilled the milk, and sent the mug crashing on
+the floor. Johnny had taken the orange out of her sacque pocket, and she
+had to let him have it because he was "a little fellow," and Harry and
+Tommy had carried all the cookies to school in their pockets.
+
+But now--after the dream, Molly hugged the baby; and she said
+confidentially to mamma, "Isn't he sweet?--I don't think boys are a
+bother, do you, mamma?"
+
+And a little later, while rocking her old rag-doll, "mamma," said she,
+"I won't ever swing on the front-gate again ever--ever--ever in my
+life."
+
+
+
+
+A STORY OF A CLOCK.
+
+
+My real name was so short that I was called Nancy, "for long." I was the
+fourth child in a very large family. The three elder were a brother and
+two sisters. The first, very quick at books and figures, finished his
+education at an early age, and seemed to me about as old and dignified
+as my father. My sisters, Sarah and Mary, were exemplary in school and
+out. The former, at eight, read Virgil; painted "Our Mother's Grave" at
+eleven--'twas an imaginary grave judging from the happy children
+standing by; wrote rhymes for all the albums, printed verses on
+card-board and kept on living. Mary read every book she could find; had
+a prize at six years of age for digesting "Rollins' Ancient History;"
+had great mathematical talent, and though she sighed in her fourteenth
+year that she had grown old, yet continues to add to her age, being one
+of the oldest professors in a flourishing college.
+
+With such precedences, it is not strange that my parents were astonished
+when their fourth child developed other and less exaggerated traits,
+with no inclination to be moulded. Within ten months of my eighth year,
+my teacher, who had previously dealt with Sarah and Mary with great
+success, made the following remark to me: "If thou wilt learn to answer
+all those questions in astronomy," passing her pencil lightly over two
+pages in _Wilkin's Elements_ "before next seventh day, I'll give thee
+two cents and a nice note to thy parents" (my father was a scientific
+man, and my mother a prime mover in our education).
+
+"Two cents" did seem quite a temptation, but the lesson I concluded not
+to get. "I worked wiser than I knew." I may have wanted a "two cents"
+many a time since, but I never was sorry about that. Spelling,
+arithmetic, grammar, geography, history and reading, though they were
+the Peter-Parley edition, seemed about enough food for a child that was
+hungering and thirsting for a doll like Judith Collin's, and for
+capacity to outrun the neighboring boys. To be sure the recitation in
+concert, where the names of the asteroids, only four in number (instead
+of a million and four) were brought out by some of us, as "vesper,"
+"pallid," "you know," and "serious" showed that we did not confine
+ourselves too closely to the book.
+
+Seventh-day afternoon was a holiday, and on one of these occasions I was
+sent to stay with my grandmother, as my mother, as my maiden aunt (the
+latter lived with my grandmother) were going to Polpis to a corn-pudding
+party. I was too troublesome to be left at home, therefore, two birds
+were to be killed with one stone.
+
+Now I had for a long time desired to be left alone with my lame and deaf
+grandmother and the Tall Clock, especially the Tall Clock. I went,
+therefore, to her old house on Plover street in a calm and lovely frame
+of mind and helped get my aunt ready for the ride.
+
+'Twas a cold day though September; and after she took her seat in the
+flag-chair tied into the cart, I conceived the notion to add my
+grandmother's best "heppy" to the wraps which they had already put into
+the calash. I always had wanted a chance at that camphor-trunk; and the
+above cloak, too nice to be worn, lay in the bottom underneath a mighty
+weight of neatly-folded articles of winter raiment. It came out with a
+"long pull" and many a "strong pull" and I got to the door with the
+head of it, while the whole length of this precious bright coating was
+dragging on the floor. But the cart had started, and when my aunt looked
+back, I was flourishing this "heppy" to see the wind fill it.
+
+I returned to the room, restored the article to the chest quite snugly,
+leaving one corner hanging out and that I stuffed in afterwards and
+jumped upon the cover of the trunk so that it shut. Very demurely I sat
+down before the open fire by my grandmother's easy chair, rocking
+furiously, watching my own face in the bright andirons, whose convex
+surfaces reflected first a "small Nancy" far off, then as I rocked
+forward, a large and distorted figure. My rapid motions made such rapid
+caricatures that I remained absorbed and attentive. My grandmother, not
+seeing the cause of my content, decided (as she told my mother
+afterwards), "that the child was sick, or becoming regenerated." Happy
+illusion!
+
+At last, my grandmother got to nodding and I sprang to my
+long-contemplated work.
+
+Putting a cricket into one of the best rush-bottom chairs, I climbed to
+the Clock; took off the frame glass and all, from its head, placing it
+noiselessly on the floor; opened the tall door in the body of the clock;
+drew out and unhung the pendulum--the striking weight, whose string was
+broken, was made all right and put for the time being on the table. Then
+the "moon and stars" which had been fixed for a quarter of a century,
+were made to spin; the "days of the month" refused to pass in review
+without a squeak that must be remedied, so I flew into the closet to get
+some sweet oil which was goose-grease; but shutting the closet-door I
+roused my grandmother.
+
+I quietly went at the old rocking again, the bottle of goose-grease in
+my pocket, which I feared might melt and I should lose the material--the
+bottle was already low.
+
+Fortunately my grandmother began napping again, and I resumed my task.
+Applying the oil with a bird's wing was a lavish process--the wheels
+moved easily; the hands became quite slippy; the moon "rose and set" to
+order; the days of the month glided thirty times a minute, and I was
+just using a pin to prove the material of the dial when my grandmother
+turned her head, at the same time reaching for her cane (the emergency
+had been foreseen and special care had I taken that the cane should not
+be forthcoming). "Nancy! Nancy! is thee crazy?"
+
+Thinking to strengthen this idea, I jumped into the clock and held the
+door fast; but finally thinking 'twas cowardly not to face it I jumped
+out again, up into the chair, saying, "I am mending this old clock;" and
+notwithstanding her remonstrances, continued my work putting back the
+various pieces. When I was afraid of "giving out and giving up," I
+decided I would just answer her back once and say "I wont." The
+wickedness would certainly discourage her beyond a hope, and then I
+could finish.
+
+So I put the moon on, staring full; in putting on the hands I got, I
+thought, sufficiently worked up to venture my prepared reply to her
+repeated "get down!"
+
+I accordingly approached my grandmother, stopping some feet from her;
+bent my body half-over, my long red hair covering my eyes, and my head
+suiting its action to my earnestness, and in a decided rebellious tone,
+I spelled, "I W-O-N-T;" but accidently giving myself a turn on my heel I
+fell to the floor, with the pronunciation still unexpressed.
+
+I quickly rose, though I saw stars without any "two cents," and returned
+to, and finished my work. I had just put the last touch on when I heard
+the wheels. How I dreaded my aunt's appearance! As she entered the door
+I was found "demurely rocking" to the pictures in the andirons.
+
+My aunt thought I did not seem natural, and kissed me as being "too
+good, perhaps, to be well." My grandmother tried to speak, but I
+interrupted:
+
+"I must go home without my tea. I am not afraid of the dark, and I
+better go."
+
+This was another proof of indisposition to the aunt. I left the house,
+kissing as I thought, my grandmother into silence; but as I looked back
+I saw she could not utter a word without laughing at the aunt's anxiety,
+and so had to put off the narration till after my departure.
+
+I went home about as fast as possible; desired to go to bed
+immediately--never went before without being sent, and then not in a
+very good mood. My mother followed me with a talk of "herb tea," and as
+I thought I must have some "end to the farce," I agreed that a little
+might do me good. My mother consequently brought me, I do believe, a
+"Scripture measure" pint of bitter tea, which I hurriedly drank, as I
+knew my sisters had already started for my grandmother's, to see how I
+had been through the afternoon. When they returned, though I heard the
+laughing and talking in the sitting-room below, I was, to all intents
+and purposes, sound asleep and snoring.
+
+No allusion was ever made to my demeanor. I went to school as usual,
+and told the school-girls that I had had such a good time at my aunt's
+the day before that I would never go there again "as long as I lived."
+
+My grandmother and aunt died long ago. For years I had no reason to
+believe that my afternoon's tragedy was known to any one. But once, not
+long since, speaking of that clock, I said, "I'm glad it did not descend
+to me;" when a friend replied, with a very knowing look, "So is your
+grandmother!"
+
+
+
+
+NAUGHTY ZAY.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+Once upon a time there was a dear little naughty girl, not _bad_, she
+would not have been so dear had she been really bad, but just naughty
+sometimes, and I must confess "sometimes" came pretty often. She had all
+sorts of loving scolding names, such as "precious torment," "darling
+bother," and she kept her poor dear grandmother on a continuous trot to
+see what mischief she was in, and frightened her mother (who thought
+everybody must want to steal Zay) by hiding behind the Missouri currant
+bush until every nook and corner had been searched; and she made her
+uncle shake his head gravely because she never could get beyond the
+first question in the Catechism, "what is your name?" and even then
+would answer _Zay_, although he had told her that "that was not her name
+at all; she had been baptized Salome; and Zay was a name she had no
+right to whatever." Nor can I begin to tell you the times I have
+exhausted all my strength putting her sturdy little self into the
+closet, and then standing first on one foot, then on the other, until I
+was ready to drop, listening at the keyhole for the first small sob of
+repentance.
+
+Things had gone wrong with our naughty little Zay this morning. Mary,
+the good old cook, who had been in the house years before Zay was born,
+had actually refused to let her make any more mud-pies on her kitchen
+window; and mamma and grandma had sided with the enemy.
+
+Zay was a little dumpling of a girl, with hard round cheeks like red
+apples, fat dimpled arms, and such wide-open eyes, and she looked very
+funny now as she drew herself up to her fullest height, which was not
+much of a height after all, brushed off her pretty blue dress, shook
+down her clean ruffled apron, and addressed us all in very solemn
+tones:
+
+"I jes' want to tell you, I've been _resulted_, and I am never going to
+live here anymore! I'll go 'way; clear off in the woods! And then I
+guess you'll all be sorry! Mary need never make any more scrambled eggs
+for breakfast, cause" (she almost broke down at the bare thought of so
+direful a catastrophe), "cause there'll never be any chil'en to eat 'em
+anymore! And _then_ I guess grandpa will be sorry when he comes home
+tired, and doesn't have his s'ippers all yeddy!"
+
+"O," said her mamma, gravely, "you are going right off, are you, before
+dinner?"
+
+"Yes, wight st'ait away, _now_! I'll go get my hat."
+
+Down stairs the quick feet pattered to the hall-closet where the little
+sun hat hung, always ready for the garden. Soon she was back, and held
+her chin up with great composure for grandma to tie the strings.
+
+The dear grandmother quietly laid her fine sewing down beside her on the
+sofa. "_Is_ my little girl going away off by herself in the woods?"
+
+"Yes, miles and _mileses_!"
+
+"And what will you do when you get hungry?"
+
+"Why, I'm going to take all my money," forthwith going to a drawer in
+the old-fashioned book-case, and taking out a diminutive porte-monnaie,
+which contained her whole fortune, three silver three-cent pieces, and
+hanging it on her fat little hand, "and I can go to some g'ocery in the
+woods, and buy lots of butter crackers."
+
+I, sitting in an easy chair, just recovered from a long illness,
+suggested, "But, Zay, you might want something besides crackers. I know
+a little girl who is very fond of 'drum-sticks' and 'wish-bones'!"
+
+"I can eat bears and wolves. I can make gravy, and," she added, "I'm
+going to take grandpa's gun wif me."
+
+"Very well," answered her mamma, going to grandfather's closet and
+bringing out the gun, which was twice as large as the child.
+
+There she stood before us--a little blue-eyed girl with a demure sun-hat
+shading a very resolute and, as yet, untroubled face, the gun held up
+tight against her with one fat dimpled hand, while from the other
+dangled the little purse.
+
+"I'm all yeddy now, so good-bye ev'ybody," she said at last.
+
+"Good-bye," said gentle grandma, holding up the little face to kiss the
+firm red lips. "I am afraid I shall miss my little girl to-night when I
+want the red stand drawn out for the drop light; and I'm sure grandpa
+will need his slippers."
+
+Zay looked somewhat irresolute; but her mamma here spoke:
+
+"I think," said she, "if you intend to reach the woods before dark you
+should start at once, for it is almost two o'clock now."
+
+"Good-bye ev'ybody," said Zay again.
+
+"And," said Lita, "I'll carry the gun down and open the front gate for
+you."
+
+Bravely the child marched out of the room, out of the front door and
+gate. There Lita handed her the gun; but after trying several times to
+walk with it, she told Lita that she didn't know as she should care for
+any wolf wish-bone with her butter crackers, and asked her to take the
+gun back in the house, and then she banged the gate, hoping Mary saw
+her, with an air of importance, and pattered off on a fast little
+dog-trot down the street.
+
+Meanwhile we were all watching her behind the blinds.
+
+"Don't lose sight of her," said mamma, "but don't let her see you!"
+
+This is what Lita saw. A sturdy little figure walking steadily onward,
+never looking back. At length it stops, opens the little purse, counts
+its money, but never noting that in the trouble with the clasps the
+three little coins fall, like three silver rain drops, to the pavement.
+It goes on and on, till Lita fears it will really go out of sight. Then
+the little figure "slows up" again, opens the little purse, and stops
+short!
+
+Ah, the horrors of poverty! Lita understands the poor little irresolute
+figure. No money means no butter crackers, and no butter crackers means
+despair. The little steps come homeward. The blue eyes are bent on the
+ground. She does not know that grandpa has come quietly up behind her,
+and found each little silver piece.
+
+The little rebel appeared in the hall just as dinner was carried in.
+There was a most savory odor of fricassee. Grandma and mamma and Lita
+were just entering the dining room.
+
+"Well," Zay calmly announced, "I 'cluded not to go till after dinner."
+
+"Is that so?" quietly replied her mother. "But you might better have
+gone on. Any little girl who wants to leave a nice home because she
+can't have her own way, needn't look for any dinner here! I expected you
+to dine on butter crackers and bears."
+
+"I like chicken, I do," said proud little Zay with appealing eyes, but
+no tears; "and then I lost all my pennies!"
+
+In vain did the tender hearted grandma pull mamma's dress,--mamma
+entered the dining room and shut the door; and up came poor Zay to the
+room where I awaited my dinner, for she had seen a tray borne hither.
+But she did not know that her mamma's parting injunction had been, "you
+must not give her anything! I must--indeed, I _wish_ to teach my child a
+lesson."
+
+Little sun-hat and empty porte-monnaie put away, quietly she seated
+herself on the sofa opposite me, with two little fat feet hanging
+dangling down. Dignity kept her silent, and amusement mingled with pity
+made me so.
+
+This state of things lasted for some moments, while the dainties were
+diminishing from my plate. Every mouthful was wistfully watched. At
+length with grave old-fashioned face, she asked, "Are you sorry for
+beggar chil'en, Aunty?"
+
+"Very sorry indeed," I replied with composure.
+
+Then with a tremor in the voice:
+
+"Aunty, if you saw a little child in the street a starvin' to death for
+some bread and butter wif jelly on it, wouldn't you give her some?"
+
+I shook my head. Another pause, and then with little fat hands clasped,
+and voice full of sobs, poor little Zay cried out, "Oh, Aunty, if you
+saw a little girl starvin' to death for sponge cake, wouldn't you give
+her some?"
+
+"How could I, Zay, if the little girl's mamma had forbidden it?"
+
+All her fortitude was gone. She burst into tears. She laid her head down
+on the sofa and sobbed.
+
+"Oh, oh! and they had fricasseed chicken, with Mary's nice toast under
+it; and you have sponge-cake and wine-jelly; and I haven't nuffin; there
+isn't one single butter cracker in the house!"
+
+At this climax of misery the house resounded with her lamentations, in
+which my tears would mingle; but fortunately the dear grand-parents soon
+appeared to comfort their darling. And so, somehow, up on grandpa's lap
+it became easier to see how naughty it was to annoy good old Mary, and
+how ungrateful it was to wish to run away from home. And pardons were
+begged and kisses were given, and the three little silver pieces crept
+back into the tiny porte-monnaie, and Zay had some of Mary's nice toast
+with lots of gravy, and a drum-stick and a wish-bone.
+
+Zay is a young lady now, and I presume when she reads this story she
+will pout and blush, and the more because it is every word true.
+
+
+
+
+THE LEGEND OF THE SALT SEA.
+
+
+Once upon a time there lived by the great sea two brothers, named Klaus
+and Körg; the elder inheriting the rich estates of his ancestors; the
+younger a woodchopper, and so poor that it was ofttimes a difficult task
+for him to provide bread for his wife and little children.
+
+Hard as life often seems it may be even harder; and so bitterly realized
+Körg when, nigh on to one merry Christmas-tide, an accident deprived him
+of his strong right hand, thereby cutting off forever his slender means
+of livelihood. There was but one resource, and, with crushed spirit Körg
+betook himself to his elder brother to crave some mercy for his starving
+babes.
+
+Klaus was a harsh man, with love only for his yellow gold. He frowned
+impatiently when Körg interrupted his selfish dreams, and, for answer to
+his pitiful story, threw him a loaf of bread and a pudding, bidding him
+begone and be satisfied. And Körg went forth with a heavy heart, his
+faint hope dead.
+
+His homeward path followed the raging sea. The night was dark and
+stormy, the waves bellowed and lashed at the shore like an army of
+infuriated beasts; but Körg heeded it not, only clutched his bread and
+pudding, and walked on with a white despairing face. Suddenly, as he
+emerged from a thick bit of woods, he became conscious of a strange
+light encircling him, and halting, quite terrified at the phenomenon, he
+beheld a little old man, snow-haired and bearded, standing plump in the
+path before him.
+
+"You seem in trouble, friend," he ejaculated, with a chuckle. "Something
+twists in your world, I trow."
+
+Körg was not slow to recognize a _geist_; his knees shook, and he dared
+not utter a word. The elf looked down upon him half displeased, yet
+chuckling merrily withal.
+
+"You have nothing to fear from me," he continued, sweetly. "I am the
+guardian of the honest poor. This night I come to reveal to you a
+secret, which, rightly used, will bestow upon you riches, life-lasting
+and unlimited."
+
+Körg, bewildered, could not yet yield simple faith. He clutched
+desperately his bread and pudding. He found no joyful words.
+
+The little man frowned scathingly on the gift of Klaus, then burst into
+a scornful laugh.
+
+
+[Illustration: THE WONDER-MILL GRINDS.]
+
+
+"It is always thus, friend, with the money elves; they deal niggardly,
+even at the full. But, care not, since this meagre chip will prove to
+you a barter for millions. Follow me! The great estates to Klaus; the
+treasures of the sea Körg shall know, to-night!" And, with a hand-wave,
+the elf led the way over the rough cliffs, Körg mutely following.
+
+
+[Illustration: THE GEIST.]
+
+
+He paused at the base of a hillock, shaped like a horseshoe--a spot
+which Körg knew well--a place of rocks, reefs, and general ill-report.
+
+"The time is favorable," muttered the little man, "my children are
+hungry, to-night." And, turning to Körg, he continued: "Take the gift of
+Klaus and go down into the sea. A crowd will swarm upon you, as
+persistent and voracious as any in this upper world. Ask for the
+_wonder-mill_, and sacrifice your treasures only in its exchange. I will
+await you here."
+
+A spell immediately enwrapped the senses of Körg. Calm and fearless, he
+descended into the deep, floating dreamily downward to the glittering
+caves from whence, exactly as the elf had depicted, swarmed forth troops
+of mermen and mermaids, with eyes and arms voraciously extended towards
+the bread and the pudding he held tightly clutched to his breast. But
+Körg, spurred on by the elf, resisted them all, nor parted with a single
+crumb till the wonder-mill lay safe in his embrace. The little man stood
+waiting on the brink.
+
+"I dedicate this to the honest poor," he said, softly. "Yes, Körg, it is
+yours. Ask of it what you will, and it shall never fail you--gold,
+silver, hundreds of loaves and puddings. But--" and here the little man
+paused, a shudder quivered through his frame, and he continued,
+solemnly--"remember, that by no hand but yours can it be controlled.
+Guard it carefully, for the day you part with it your portion shall be
+ashes, and _mine_ annihilation."
+
+When Körg dared lift his eyes the elf had disappeared.
+
+Rahel sat at home with the children, weeping. She knew well the heart of
+her brother Klaus, and how vain would be Körg's last effort to save them
+from starvation. A step sounded on the path without. Rahel and the babes
+stopped to listen. It was not dull and heavy as they had expected, but
+blithe as the jingle of sleigh-bells, and, in a second, Körg burst in
+upon them, dimpling all over with merry laughter. Rahel regarded him,
+amazed.
+
+"You bring no bread to our starving babes, and yet you laugh," she said.
+"Oh, Körg! Körg! trouble has made you mad!"
+
+Still chuckling he slipped the wonder-mill from beneath his coat and
+said, softly:
+
+"Hush, Rahel! A _geist_ has been with me to-night. I have brought
+endless fortune from the depths of the sea." And, plump in the eyes of
+his astonished wife, he began turning out loaves and puddings with such
+a gusto that the room was soon filled, and Rahel fain to implore him to
+cease his elfish work.
+
+From that night, just as the little man had said, riches unlimited came
+to the house of Körg. No treasure too great for the mill to produce;
+and, though the woodchopper strove hard at secrecy, its fame spread far
+and wide from the mountains back to the sea, and folks flocked by
+thousands to view the magic engine that Körg had fished up from the the
+ocean's depths. And though, always good humoredly, he tested its powers
+and loaded his guests with princely gifts, yet he rested night after
+night more uneasily upon his pillow, remembering the solemn words of the
+_geist_:
+
+"The day you part with it your portion shall be ashes, and _mine_
+annihilation."
+
+One day, after the space of a year, there came to the woodchopper's door
+a captain from far-off lands.
+
+"I am here," he said, "to see the famous wonder-mill that blesses the
+house of Körg."
+
+There was a simplicity about the old tar that completely dismantled
+Körg. With less than ordinary caution he brought forth the mill, and
+displayed it, in all its phases, before his astonished guest.
+
+"It is a clever trickster," finally he quoth. "I wonder if it could
+grind so common a thing as salt."
+
+Körg chuckled contemptuously, and speedily spurted right and left such a
+briny shower as made the old tar blink spasmodically and walk hurriedly
+away.
+
+But, alas! that night Körg missed the mill from his side; and when, pale
+and shivering, he sought the golden treasures hid 'neath the floor, he
+found only an ashy heap, heard only the mournful words:
+
+"The mermen and mermaids are dead. The _geists_ have ceased to reign."
+
+Far out on the blue bosom of the sea the jolly captain rode, shouting
+uproariously over the treasure he had secured.
+
+"Precious wonder-mill," he sang, "I will try thee in all thy ways. First
+salt for savor, then ducks for food, and gold to the end of my days."
+And he started the tiny wheels, and clapped his hands frantically at its
+ready compliance to his will.
+
+Forth poured the sparkling, crusty grain in one buzzing maze of
+whiteness. Thick gathered the milky drifts from bow to stern. Still
+shouted the captain his savage joy till--a-sudden he paused, gazed as if
+spell-bound on the mill's mad work, with a cry of terror sprang forward
+and grasped the check. But, in vain. There was no surcease to its labor.
+Higher and higher up lifted the mighty salt banks, and, in a twinkling,
+both destroyed and destroyer sank helpless into the depths of the sea.
+
+And, down amid the green sea-weeds, the wonder-mill still stands,
+pouring forth salt the whole day long--no hand to check its raging; for
+the mermen and mermaids are all dead, and the _geists_ have ceased to
+reign.
+
+And this is why the sea-water is salt.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE MAN WITH THE STRAW HAT.
+
+
+It is nothing strange that a man should wear a straw hat; but--well,
+listen to my story.
+
+One winter I was travelling near Lake Ontario, and, as the day was dark,
+I could not see every one in the car very plainly. There was a little
+old man near whose face I could but just see--for he had on a small
+black hat, and his coat collar was turned up. Soon after I noticed him
+the train stopped at the station where I was to get off. The old man and
+five or six other persons also left the train. We all stepped into a
+sleigh, and were driven several miles over the snow to a hotel.
+
+"It is _very_ cold," said the little old man as we started.
+
+"Yes," said one of the passengers; "but we shall not be long going."
+
+After a short pause, he again spoke:
+
+"It is certainly very cold. I am truly afraid I shall freeze before we
+get there."
+
+"O, no! not so very cold," said I, drawing my fur cap tightly over my
+ears.
+
+"I was never so cold in my life!" growled the little man. "My ears are
+freezing, now."
+
+"Sorry I can't help you," I said, with a feeling of true sympathy; "but
+we have not much further to go."
+
+Presently he growled again:
+
+"I know I shall freeze, anyhow. Can I take your muffler?"
+
+I spared my muffler. But, pretty soon, I heard from him again:
+
+"The top of my head is very cold, and I shall have a fearful headache."
+
+We soon reached the hotel and entered the office, where a warm fire
+welcomed us. The little old man undid the muffler and handed it to me.
+He then removed his hat, and I discovered _that it was of straw_, and,
+also, that he was very bald.
+
+My pity for the man was all gone in a moment. It could not be that he
+had no other hat, for he was dressed well enough to own twenty hats. I
+never found out what his reason was for wearing such a hat in the
+winter.
+
+I fell to moralizing presently; but I will not here write down my
+reflections. Suffice it to say that every day in the year I meet
+children, and grown people too, for that matter, who are "_wearing straw
+hats in the winter_," and suffering various dreadful things in
+consequence thereof. The very next time you get into trouble, before you
+grumble and fret, see if it is not because you are _wearing a straw hat
+in winter_.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+RUFFLES AND PUFFS.
+
+
+She stood looking down upon her neat plaid dress with a very
+dissatisfied face.
+
+"Mamma," she said, "why can't I wear pretty clothes every day like Irene
+Clarke? She always has puffs and ruffles, and her aprons are trimmed
+_so_ nice."
+
+Mamma finished buttoning the tippet and tied down the snug little hat.
+
+"Puffs and ruffles and dainty aprons _are_ nice," she replied gently.
+"Mamma likes pretty things as well as Lou, but always in their place,
+dearie."
+
+But mamma's words did not help. Little Lou went out with the same
+dissatisfied face.
+
+"They say mammas know best," she spoke. "It's funny, though. Irene's
+mamma knows a different best from mine--O, there she is!" and Lou
+hurried to meet the little city girl whose puffs and ruffles had made
+her plaid frock seem so mean.
+
+
+[Illustration: LOU.]
+
+
+It chanced that Irene wore a fresh suit, one that Lou had never seen.
+Delightedly she spied the dainty robe.
+
+"Ain't that sweet!" she exclaimed, and feasted her eyes till, suddenly
+looking down at Irene's gaiters, she caught a glimpse of a curious
+field-bug trotting along on the ground. My little lady forgot the
+ruffles, forgot everything but her desire for a closer view.
+
+"O, see--see!" she cried excitedly, half-running, half-crawling after
+the bug, "see this funny thing! I can't catch him! But, O my--ain't he
+cunnin'! Irene, do get down here and see!"
+
+Irene took a step forward, then stood still.
+
+"I can't," she said, "I might soil my dress."
+
+But Lou scarcely heard. She was absorbed in the funny bug. On she went
+trying to catch him, till finally he slipped round a tree-root and was
+seen no more.
+
+Back came Lou to Irene brushing the dirt from her frock.
+
+"It's cold standin' here," she said, "let's play tag."
+
+"I can't," spoke Irene again, "I might trip and soil my dress."
+
+Lou's eyes went up and down the dainty robe. "It isn't much of a
+tag-frock," she thought. But she was a restless maid. Between hopping
+and dancing she glanced up at the sky and exclaimed:
+
+"I guess it'll snow to-night. If it does, come over to my house
+to-morrow and we'll get out the sled. We can take turns bein' horse, you
+know."
+
+But Irene shook her head.
+
+"I'd like to," she replied, "but mamma won't let me. I haven't a dress
+that's fit."
+
+Lou's face gleamed with surprise.
+
+"O, my!" she said, "can't you ever take a hill-ride, or build a
+snow-man, or--" but Irene looked so sober that Lou's sympathies awoke.
+"Never mind," she added, "you'll come up to your grandpa's again in the
+summer; then you'll wear _do-up_ clothes, and we'll have lots of fun."
+
+"The _do-up_ clothes are the worst," replied Irene sadly. "Mamma don't
+want _them_ soiled."
+
+Lou looked down at her plaid frock; she thought of the plentiful
+ginghams at home. Suddenly she turned and rushed headlong back to mamma.
+
+"O my!" she began, "Irene Clarke can't have no fun! She ain't got no
+slide-dresses, she can't soil her _do-up_ clothes, and--O my!
+mamma--it's all them ruffles and puffs! I wouldn't wear 'em for the
+world! No, I just wouldn't!"
+
+Mamma could but smile.
+
+"I am glad my little girl has changed," she said. "I feared, a while
+ago, that because she could not have ruffles and puffs on her dresses
+she was going to wear them up in her face."
+
+The free little out-of-doors girl blushed; and then she could have
+hugged her plaid frock for very joy.
+
+
+
+
+SUGAR RIVER.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+"Sugar River!" The little cup-bearing hand stood transfixed halfway from
+table to lip. The silver cup tilted part way over in sheer astonishment.
+Drip, drip, drip, dripped the contents down into Tot's scrap of ruffled
+and embroidered lap.
+
+"Bless me! Look at that child!" cried Tot's papa. And Tot was looked at
+and hustled away, and the little silver mug tried to drown itself in a
+yellow stream of sunshine flowing across the table; and, failing in
+that, tried to sparkle just as Tot's eyes had sparkled, and failed in
+that, too. For that was O, very bright--nothing was brighter than Tot's
+eyes.
+
+"Well, Totchen," said Tot's boy-uncle Will, looking up from his book as
+something pierced his knee, as only Tot's small elbow could pierce.
+"Well, Totchen; what is it? Stories? Then _jump_!"
+
+O, what happy state to sit enthroned upon a big boy-uncle's knee, and
+listen, listen, listen, with eyes like the dog's in the fairy story--"as
+big as the great round tower at Copenhagen"--more or less!
+
+"What shall I tell you? Aladdin? Puss in Boots? Cin--"
+
+"Soogar Wiver" interrupted Tot, promptly.
+
+"_Soogar Wiver?_ Why, what a little pitcher for ears! What do you know
+about Soogar Wiver?"
+
+"Oo said," said Tot, with decision, "that oo went fisin' in Soogar
+Wiver."
+
+"Why, so I did," said the boy, reflectively.
+
+"Is it vewy sweet?" asked Tot.
+
+"Sweet?" echoed the boy, taking his wicked cue and with a prolonged
+drawing in of the lips. "I should say so! Why, its bed is solid sugar,
+with as many grades of sugar grains for sand as one finds in a grocer
+shop."
+
+"Do wivers do to bed dus 'ike 'ittle dirls?" demanded Tot, whose young
+existence was embittered by that seemingly needless ceremony.
+
+"You see," said the boy, with the air of communicating much useful
+information, "it is even worse than that. They never get up at all. Only
+once in a while they get into tantrums and break loose and make every
+one scatter; for a river is one of the quickest fellows at a run you
+ever saw. And well they might be, for they are at it all the time,
+asleep or awake."
+
+"I sood 'ike to see Soogar Wiver," said Tot.
+
+"Wouldn't you!" And Will, fairly launched, tossed all conscientious
+scruples overboard, and steered boldly out into the deep waters of
+wildest imagination. "You just would! Why, as I said, the river bed is
+solid sugar. Think how nice to be able to turn over and take a gnaw at
+your bed-post when you feel hungry! The pebbles are sugar plums, the
+bigger stones are broken sugar loaves, and the rocks, why, the rocks are
+made out of rock candy, of course."
+
+Tot sighed, blissfully.
+
+"It is the jolliest place to go fishing. You just lie down on a rock,
+nibble it occasionally, chew up a few pebbles, take a bite at a stone,
+and if you are thirsty--as, of course, you would be--there is a whole
+river of _eau sucré_--that is what the French call sweetened
+water--running right by, enough to supply all France. And, all the time,
+you are hauling up the fish just as fast as they can bite. They are a
+peculiar kind of fish, wouldn't look at a worm. Nothing short of taffy
+bait will tempt them. They look like those fishes you buy at the
+confectioners--penny apiece--very high-colored, very flat, and mostly
+tail; and, when cooked, they taste very much like them."
+
+Tot still gazed up into the remorseless boy's face in unblinking
+confidence. And, indeed, from one who, for the last two weeks, together
+with Tot, had been on the most familiar footing with giants, ogres, and
+hop-o-my-thumbs, and held the most sympathizing relations towards
+enchanted princesses and conquering knights, an account of a "Soogar
+Wiver," was not to be regarded as startling. As for Will's
+conscience--well, his mission with Tot was to amuse, not instruct--if
+Tot was amused the whole end and aim of his efforts was attained.
+
+"We tried having dories made of the same material of those candy marbles
+that nothing but time and long-enduring patience will ever make an end
+of. But the fellows had such a habit, as they floated down the stream,
+of eating up the oars, we had to give it up--"
+
+"Will," said Tot's mamma, at the open door, "are you ready? Run away to
+Ellen, Tot, and be a good little girl."
+
+Tot descended from her throne, slowly and unwillingly, and, going
+obediently away, never knew about the beautiful river fairy just then
+springing to life, like Minerva in the brain of Jove, in Will's fancy,
+purposely to make Tot's acquaintance.
+
+With glistening wonder in her eyes, in robe of trailing, snowy, sun-shot
+mist, with water lilies dropping from her hair, and the cave--Will could
+have provided for her such a cave, the water tinkling and trickling from
+the walls hung with silver spray, stalactites of purest barley sugar
+glittering, pillars of creamiest cream candy shimmering; and, to crown
+all and above all, the fairy would have had a daily diet of cream cakes
+and caramels.
+
+But, before all this splendor of material could be built up into words,
+the builder had departed, the river fairy had melted back and away into
+her native mist, and Tot never knew.
+
+That night, Will tossed Tot flying once more into the air, rescued once
+more his fresh collar from her crumpling embrace, kissed her once more,
+good-by this time, and was off and away on the cars to school. No more
+stories. No more fairies. No more anything. Only a wonderful river
+winding and gleaming and leaping through Tot's childish
+dreams--beautiful, wonderful "Soogar Wiver," where happy Uncle Will went
+fishing, lying on the bed of rock candy.
+
+One morning, all in the gray and quiet, Tot had a queer dream. She
+thought some one said, with a funny little catch in the voice: "Wake up,
+little Tot, mamma's treasure," and some one held her so tightly she
+could hardly breathe. And she opened her eyes and shut them again, quite
+dazzled; but she thought she saw papa and mamma standing beside her bed,
+and the room was all on fire it was so bright to two, poor, sleepy, baby
+eyes, and papa's voice seemed to say, a great way off:
+
+"Poor, little, sleepy Tot."
+
+It was such a queer dream, but not half so queer as what followed; for,
+after a while, she woke up and went right on dreaming just the same.
+That was very strange. How could it be anything else than a dream, to be
+taken up by gaslight and dressed all in her little street coat and hat
+before breakfast, to be made to drink milk and eat when she wasn't
+hungry, to be petted and cried over and half crushed in mamma's arms, to
+be taken by papa out into the cool, clear dawning, with the sky just
+beginning to flush like a sea shell and a waking bird or two to twitter
+about getting up, to be put into a coach that rolled and rumbled, to be
+put into something else that rolled and rumbled a thousand times worse;
+nothing had ever happened anything like this in any of Tot's waking
+hours before.
+
+After the sun had climbed up a little way into the sky, grown blue and
+bluer, Tot began to accept the situation a little, and lay very still in
+papa's arms (the fresh morning breeze tapping her cheek and lifting her
+long crimped hair with cool, gentle fingers), watching the fences
+running away like mad, the trees gliding gracefully by in long endless
+procession, little white cottages and funny little hovels, and pretty
+little villages hopping suddenly in and then as suddenly out of the
+scene, a glimpse into shady depths of woods, a glint of a blue,
+nestling, lily-pad-speckled pond, an emerald gleam of peaceful meadows,
+a sight at a snowy tethered goat, of dappled grazing cows, a roll and
+rush and roar through riven, dripping rocks.
+
+Papa told his little girl all about it. How little children in the town
+where Tot lived were very sick of a dangerous disease--diptheria. And
+how, coming home last evening from business and learning of several
+fresh cases, he had become alarmed for his darling and consulted mamma,
+and had succeeded in frightening her so thoroughly, that she had sat up
+all night to get Tot's things ready so that she might start the very
+next morning, on the very first early morning train, to where grandmamma
+lived.
+
+"And, there," said papa, after they had ridden all the long forenoon,
+"there's Sugar River, Tot, where I used to fish when I was a boy!"
+
+"O!" cried Tot, and then, immediately, with a roll and a pitch, they
+came to a little white farmhouse and stopped again, and Tot was at
+grandmamma's.
+
+Tot didn't like being kissed quite so much all at a time, if it was by a
+grandmamma. The chickens, though, were fascinating, and as for some
+plushy round balls of yellow fuzz, rolling about--little ducks just
+hatched--Tot had never seen anything at all to compare with them. But
+there was a dreadful and discordant procession of big ducks that struck
+terror to Tot's soul, and it was very still and lonely when the night
+and dark crept on. The crickets and the frogs did their best, but they
+only made it stiller and lonelier; and the hills gleamed against the
+sky, and Tot missed her mamma. But yet, Tot was very sleepy, and the
+next she knew it was morning and she was at grandma's, where Uncle Will
+lived, and Uncle Will was coming pretty soon, and, better than that,
+mamma was coming, too; and there was a little girl, a short distance up
+the road, whom Tot was to play with, and then there were the chickens
+and the ducks, and old Brindle and the pigs, and the pony and the hay
+cart, and--yes, it was very delightful at grandmamma's.
+
+Once or twice, during the next few days, Tot asked--preserving that
+singular reticence regarding her illusions, so common to children--to be
+taken to Sugar River; but grandpapa was busy haying, and grandmamma
+said:
+
+"Will will come pretty soon and he will take you."
+
+"When _is_ pwetty soon!" asked Tot, in hopeless tones.
+
+One afternoon grandmamma gave Tot and Susie (that was the name of Tot's
+little playmate) each a fat hot jumble, and left them playing happily in
+the yard while she went back to her sewing. Susie was seven, so very
+safe company for little four-year-old Tot. After a while over ran
+Susie's brother, to summon her home to go with her mother to the
+village.
+
+Tot stood at the gate, looking down the long road. Sturdy maples threw
+curving, interlacing boughs across, through which the sun-light filtered
+and flickered. How cool and shady it was! Tot all at once felt the
+little sunny yard grow hot and stupid, and then Susie's mamma drove out
+of the gate and down the long shady arch over the sun-flecked road. Tot
+wished she was going to the village, too. Tot wished she was going
+to--to--Sugar River.
+
+
+[Illustration: ON THE WAY TO SUGAR RIVER.]
+
+
+"Run in to grandmamma, little Tot," whispered the still small voice. But
+Tot never heeded. Tot was tired. Tot was hot. Tot was homesick. Tot
+would walk down the road just a few little steps. What harm? How
+delightful! How grateful the cool green shade! How alluring the long
+level stretch of road under the arching maples! Where did it lead? It
+led--O, Tot knew--it led to Sugar River.
+
+Step by step, a little and a little further on the tiny white figure
+glanced. A sense of happy freedom possessed the little girl. A cloud of
+golden butterflies beckoned on before. Here a dark thread of water crept
+down over the hills and splashed musically into the great stone trough.
+All the way an invisible brooklet gurgled and kept her company. Only one
+bird seemed to sing at a time--first one, then another. Wasn't it
+charming? And at the end of it all must be--Tot could see it now in
+fancy--the fluttering blue ribbon uncurling between sunny sloping
+banks--SUGAR RIVER--fast asleep under the summer sun, on its glittering
+bed of rock candy. O, rapture! Tot's mouth watered for its sugary
+delights.
+
+On and on and on, with the brook and the butterflies and the welcoming
+bird. On, till the maples stopped and could go no further, and so she
+left them behind. Out into the open sun-light she came, and only the
+long, hot, and dazzling road stretched on before.
+
+Tot's small feet trudged on, steadily. Just a little further on--Tot was
+sure--and then--But how long the road grew, how deep the dust lay, how
+tired the little feet were getting, little feet that can trudge about
+all day long in play, yet drag so wearily over long straight roads.
+
+"I sood fink I would tum to Soogar Wiver pwetty soon," she sighed.
+
+At last she came to where some cross-roads met, and looking down one she
+saw the cool green shade again. Not maples this time, but close and
+clustering shrubbery.
+
+She left the brook gurgling "go-oo-oo-d-by," and the butterflies waving
+adieu with their golden wings, and went on alone. How sweet and still it
+was here! The tall grass drooped over two brown beaten paths that horses
+feet had worn, and a tender green light lay over all. But where was the
+sweet river hiding? Another meeting of cross roads. Tot looked this way,
+that. Ah, there it was over the road! Over the meadow. Gleaming,
+gliding, Sugar River, at last.
+
+"I fought I sood det to it pwetty soon," murmured Tot, triumphantly.
+"Won't dwandma be glad to get some nice sugar plums? I wis I tood det
+froo dis fence."
+
+Through she got, with much squeezing and rending. Tot eyed her torn
+pinafore, ruefully.
+
+"I wis' 'ittle dirl's aprons wouldn't teep tearing on every single
+fing."
+
+"'Pears to me," doubtfully, putting one little foot down on the soft
+marshy ground, "it is wather wet."
+
+Rather wet? Yes, Totchen, very wet. Too wet for such little little feet
+as yours. And see, little one, the sun is getting lower. Crawl back
+through the fence and run home. The sleepy murmuring river has nothing
+but trouble for you.
+
+But Tot stumbled on over the marshy ground.
+
+"I don't 'ike to go down so far," sighed Tot, drawing a little drenched
+boot up from a treacherous bog. "And my new boots is detting all wet."
+
+But Tot had a Spartan soul; and at last, beside the wonderful stream, on
+the beautiful shore she stood, and--poor, poor little Tot! The little
+pinafore torn, the pretty, trim boots soaked and soiled, all Tot's
+little body dragged and weary; yet, it isn't that that makes me say
+"poor little Tot!" It is to see her standing there at the goal of her
+childish hopes with such happy, radiant eyes, and know how soon will
+come to her that "saddest pain of all--to grasp the thing we long for
+and find how it can fail us."
+
+Up and down she walks, searching for sweetmeat pebbles and sugary
+stones, and when she finds none--the water running high and close to the
+grassy ground--she stoops and, dipping her little fingers, she lifts
+them, wet and dripping, to her longing lips.
+
+"It isn't _vewy_ sweet," she said.
+
+Poor little Tot! Down the stream she came to a ford, and the shallow
+water had left stones and pebbles bare. Big and little, and half size;
+white and yellow, and brown and gray.
+
+Here was richness at last. All in a minute Tot's little, nibbling,
+crunching teeth went on edge on a perverse, grating pebble that sternly
+refused to be nibbled or crunched. Another and another and another she
+tried.
+
+"Pwobably," she thought, "they has to be cwacked dus 'ike nuts." And she
+proceeded to crack, not the stones, but her own little, eager,
+blundering fingers, instead. O stony, stony-hearted stones and
+pebbly-hearted pebbles! Tot's cup of bitterness seemed to flow over. She
+stood up, sobbing. A sudden sense of desolation oppressed her.
+
+"I wis' I was at home wiv dwandma. I wis,' oh, I _wis'_ I hadn't tum!"
+she sobbed.
+
+Her only thought, now, was to get home. But, first, what do you think
+she did? She filled her bit of a pocket full of pebbles for grandmamma
+to crack; then the little weary feet stumbled back again over the weary
+way.
+
+"My feet's is detting so heavy," she sighed, "and I _fink_ I's detting
+tired."
+
+Tot was crying piteously now, and no one heard. All alone, mamma's baby,
+who had never been alone before in all her short cherished life. All
+alone with the croaking frogs and lonesome crickets. Hark! what was
+that? A roll of wheels and the clatter of a horse's hoofs.
+
+"Whoa!" called out a boy's shrill voice. Down to the ground dropped the
+owner of the voice. "What is the matter, little girl?"
+
+"I'se been to Soogar Wiver, and I don't know how to det home aden, I'se
+so vewy tired, and I toodn't cwack the candy, and I want to see
+dwandma," and Tot's words ended in a wail of inarticulate woe.
+
+"Where do you live?" asked the boy.
+
+"A dwate, dwate ways off," answered Tot.
+
+"What is your name?"
+
+"Tot Lindsay."
+
+"Lindsay? O, I know! All you've got to do is to jump into this wagon and
+have a nice ride, and, presently, we'll be there."
+
+And presently, in the gloaming, they stopped before grandpapa's house,
+and the boy, lifting out Tot in his arms, carried her to the door and
+bade her good-by, and, jumping into his wagon, rattled away. Empty and
+silent stood the little house, like the dwelling of the Three Talking
+Bears, and little Tot might have been Silver Hair herself.
+
+"Dwandma, dwandma!" she called. But no grandmamma replied.
+
+"Perhaps she has dus dorn out a minute," thought she. "I'll det up on
+dis lounge and tover dis shawl over me, and s'prise her when she tums
+back."
+
+Something else besides the shawl covered Tot's eyes. Down over the blue
+orbs drifted the snowy lids. Tired little Tot.
+
+Where was dwandma and the rest all this time? In trouble and confusion.
+Calling and searching, searching and calling: "Tot, Tot, Tot, little
+Tot! Where are you?" Grandpapa and grandmamma, and Uncle Will and Tot's
+mamma.
+
+At last, on the road running beside the river, they had found the
+fragment of dotted cambric, held fast by a detaining splinter; and then
+Tot's mamma had run ahead and led them across the meadow, right in the
+track of Tot's little feet, straight to the river. And then grandmamma
+had said, quaveringly, that Tot was always asking to go to Sugar River;
+and then Will's heart had given a great guilty throb, and sank way, way
+down. He knew so well _why_. And then Tot's mamma had thrown up her two
+hands, and darted towards a little string of coral beads and picked it
+up. And, as they stood there, the river's murmur seemed like the murmur
+of the river of death, and the white fog, beginning to rise, like the
+folds of a little child's shroud; and Tot's mamma threw up her hands
+again and fell among all the unfeeling stones and pebbles.
+
+Will ran all the way home and went straight to the barn and harnessed
+the horse, and then went into the house and into the sitting-room and
+snatched a shawl from the lounge, and--"Jerusalem Crickets!" was all he
+had breath enough left to say. Tot had surprised somebody, indeed.
+
+Down by the river, in the dusk and the river damp, as they waited, came
+Will, striding along with what looked like a bundle of old shawls upon
+his shoulder; and presently, parting the folds like the calyx of a
+flower, Tot's rosy face blossomed out.
+
+"Peekabo!" she said, with a sweet sound of laughter. "O mamma, mamma!"
+
+It was wonderful how quickly mamma recovered; and it was more wonderful
+still how ever Tot escaped sudden death, then and there, from
+suffocation. But, bless you! You need not worry, it was larks to Tot.
+
+What a triumphal procession home it was. Tot, in her little night-dress
+sat in her mother's lap, and told her adventures; and Will sat in the
+darkest corner and said not a word, but resolved that no story more
+fabulous than that of George Washington and his hatchet should ever
+again pass his lips. His lip quivered, as much as a boy's lip is ever
+allowed, when Tot said:
+
+"And I brought home a whole pottet full to cwack."
+
+"Never mind, to-night. Wait till to-morrow," said mamma.
+
+Tot went obediently to sleep, and woke in the morning to find beside her
+pillow, such lots of candy--her Sugar River candy she thought, all
+cracked and ready to eat.
+
+"It tastes dus 'ike any tandy," said Tot.
+
+They didn't tell her then, the illusion was so dear to her childish
+heart. But, when she was a little older, Tot laughed as long and as
+gleefully as anyone over the story of the little girl who went to Sugar
+River for sugar plums.
+
+
+
+
+A PIONEER "WIDE AWAKE."
+
+
+One event in the life of Jacob Lohr qualified him, in my opinion, to be
+mustered into the army of "Wide Awakes." Let me tell the children the
+incident and see if they agree with me.
+
+He was a native of the Mohawk Valley near Schenectady, New York, and
+when about twenty years old, with his young wife, Polly, emigrated to
+the wilds of Western Pennsylvania. This was more than seventy years ago,
+when the magnificent forests of that region afforded some of the finest
+hunting-grounds in America. Here Jacob began clearing a farm, built a
+log dwelling-house, planted corn and potatoes, and in a few years became
+a thriving pioneer.
+
+But the pride of his forest farm was his pigs. He had built a strong pen
+of logs, with a heavy door, in order to protect them in the night from
+wild animals. It stood about five rods from the house, near the brook,
+just across which, and not thirty feet from the sty, was the edge of the
+dense natural forest.
+
+During the day they were permitted to roam at large in the woods eating
+nuts, by which they fattened for the larder; but when night approached,
+they were called and zealously secured in the pen, a practice which soon
+taught the pigs the habit of early retiring. Gradually, however, Mr.
+Lohr's punctuality in this matter abated, until one evening it had
+become fairly dark ere he went to shut them in. As he walked down the
+beaten path, a rustling in the adjacent bushes made him think that the
+pigs might still be out; and to satisfy himself on the point, he entered
+the pen and felt around, saying as he did so, "One two, three--all
+here." Then as he turned to the door, he wondered what caused the
+rustling across the brook. But as he stooped to go out, his wonder was
+threateningly answered by a low growl from a dark crouching object, only
+two or three steps in front of him.
+
+With swift hands he closed the door, shutting himself in; and none too
+soon, for instantly a heavy animal leaped on the roof over his head and
+began fiercely scratching at the cover. At the same time a mewing at
+the door, and a snuffing at the side of the pen, showed him that he was
+a prisoner, with at least three panthers as his jailors. But unlike
+jailors generally, these were more eager to get their captive out than
+to keep him in; while the prisoner, instead of wishing to "break jail,"
+was anxious not to do so.
+
+All night long he was a "Wide Awake," as were also the pigs, for the
+panthers were growling and screaming, scratching and digging around and
+upon the pen, trying to tear it to pieces and seize the occupants.
+Although feverishly excited, he felt quite secure, because the sty was
+so substantially built.
+
+Yet such lodgings and neighbors, within and without, would not tend to
+produce very placid slumbers, even if the walls were cannon-proof.
+
+Various plans were tried by Polly, his wife, who had become aware of the
+situation, to drive away the creatures, but in vain.
+
+She held a torch where it shone toward the pen; she screamed through the
+narrow casement, and rattled a tin pan at the animals; but she did not
+know how to load and fire the gun; and as to going outside the door, it
+is doubtful if even the boldest hunter, well armed, would have dared so
+much at night, in the face of a whole family of hungry panthers.
+
+Meanwhile, Jacob kept up a lively interest among his jailors.
+
+Discovering that they had scratched at some of the larger cracks between
+the logs, until they could thrust in their noses, he peeled a piece of
+tough bark from the side of the pen, and began striking at them, giving
+them many stinging blows.
+
+And afterward, when relating the story, he would laugh heartily at
+remembering the sneezing, snarling and grumbling this occasioned.
+Although he had so much to keep him excited, the night seemed very long.
+
+At last, however, the daylight began to dawn, and he heard his jailors
+mewing and purring together as if in council, and then all was silent
+all around the pen.
+
+Half an hour later, Polly called to him that they were gone away.
+
+It was with extreme caution, however, that he opened the door a little
+and peered out.
+
+A panther is like a cat in slyness or cunning, watching stealthily for
+prey and springing upon it in the most unexpected way.
+
+And so, before he ventured out, he scanned with sharp eyes the edge of
+the woods across the brook; for he did not fancy being the mouse for
+these three great cats. Satisfying himself as well as he could, that
+the way was clear, he sprang forth, closed the door quickly behind him,
+and rushed for the house. But no panthers appeared; they had probably
+retired into the deep shadows of the hemlocks.
+
+His "Wide Awake" night was ended.
+
+Upon investigating the scene of the night's operations, he found the sty
+amazingly scratched and gnawed in many places, proving the strength of
+tooth and nail and the ferocity of his jailors. Several long deep gashes
+on one of the pigs showed where a panther had thrust in his paw by a
+crack and tried to seize a victim.
+
+But my story is only half told.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+An old adage says, "It is a poor rule that won't work both ways;" and so
+thought Jacob. He resolved in the morning, that if the creatures should
+come back the next night, as they would be quite apt to do, he would
+turn the tables and try to teach them the pleasure of being imprisoned
+in a pig-sty.
+
+Anybody who has lived in a region infested by carnivorous animals, knows
+how they prowl around the settler's cabin the night after any fat
+animal, cattle or swine is killed, for the meat. They snuff the blood
+from afar in the forest, and hasten to the place to have a tooth, or a
+paw, in the division of the spoils. Knowing this peculiarity of
+panthers, Jacob and Polly held a consultation, and as it was about time
+in the autumn to make pork of the pigs, they decided to perform that
+work during the day. The scent of blood would serve as a double
+inducement for his visitors to return.
+
+So, in the afternoon, the task was done, the pen and vicinity being the
+scene of the slaughter, and all the bloody tidbits placed inside the
+door. Every such thing was arranged to attract the animals into the sty
+if possible. The meat was placed safely in the garret of the house.
+
+The door of the pen was so constructed as to open and shut something
+like the lower sash of a window, by sliding up and down, a peg holding
+it open by day and closed by night. When the door was open, this peg had
+only to be pulled out, to let it shut down like a flash; and being shut
+no animal could open it. Jacob went along the brook and obtained a
+quantity of bark from the moosewood, (_Dirca palustris_,) of which he
+made a strong cord, long enough to reach from the pen to the house. One
+end of this he tied tightly to the peg that supported the door, and the
+other he made fast inside the house.
+
+When night came, he was ready for visitors.
+
+Stationing themselves at the window, he and Polly watched and listened.
+
+Hardly had it become dark, when they heard the mewing of the panthers at
+no great distance in the forest. Persons who are familiar only with the
+mewing of cats, have little idea how a panther's stronger, but similar
+voice will ring through the woods.
+
+In a little time they distinctly heard one of them leap upon the pen and
+begin scratching as the night before; and in a moment more, by the
+confined sound of purring and growling, it was evident they had entered
+the sty and were disputing over the morsels of meat.
+
+Then Jacob gave the bark cord a vigorous jerk and they heard the door
+drop.
+
+I suppose it would be impossible to describe the excitement of Polly and
+Jacob at this moment, but the girls and boys can imagine something of
+it.
+
+They did not dare to go out to see if they had caught the _panthers_,
+lest, having failed, the panthers might catch _them_.
+
+Before morning, however, they were sure enough that one or more was
+captured, for there was a great deal of smothered howling, just as it
+would sound from animals shut in a pen.
+
+Previous wakefulness made sleep necessary during most of the night, but
+at daybreak they were astir and at the casement to catch the first
+possible glimpse of the situation. As it became light enough, they
+discovered a huge, handsome panther stretched out on the roof of the
+pen, her head lying across her paws, like a cat asleep. By this they
+knew that others were confined inside, for whose escape this one was
+waiting. It was but a brief task for Jacob, who was a good marksman, to
+point his rifle through the window and give her its contents. Without a
+struggle the splendid animal straightened her powerful limbs and died.
+Reloading his gun, Jacob walked cautiously toward the pen, watching in
+every direction, lest there might be another one outside ready to spring
+upon him, but seeing none, he went up and peered through a crack.
+
+At once two pairs of eyes flashed at him, and fierce growls remonstrated
+against the state of affairs.
+
+Had Barnum flourished in those days, Jacob might have found a market for
+the animals alive, but as it was he regarded it safer to shoot them as
+quickly as possible, through a crevice between the logs.
+
+Upon placing the dead animals side by side near the house he discovered
+that they were mother and full-grown kittens, all very large and plump,
+with thick, glossy fur.
+
+I have only to add, that he was paid by the state a bounty of
+twenty-four dollars apiece for killing the panthers, which was quite a
+fortune for a pioneer in those days. Their red-brown skins, sewed
+together, made a larger and nicer lap-robe than the hide of any buffalo;
+and years after, with Jacob's children, I took many a sleigh-ride under
+this warm covering.
+
+All in favor of numbering Jacob among the "Wide Awakes," say _aye_!
+
+
+
+
+SURPRISED.
+
+
+I.
+
+"Mitz" began to cry piteously. "Mieu--mieu--mi-e-e," he cried, and all
+little Hannah's trotting only made him worse. At that moment "Mitz" was
+wrapped in a pillow-case, while his head was buried in Hannah's little
+shawl. His ears were pulled down, and his promising tail was all in a
+heap, and his resplendent moustache was crushed. Therefore was it a
+wonder that Mitz howled most dolefully? It is not necessary to say that
+Mitz was a kitten.
+
+Mitz's mother was sitting in a corner of the fire-place, with tail
+neatly curled about her paws. Three of Mitz's brothers and sisters were
+lost somewhere in the shadow about her, and two others the children had
+put to bed.
+
+It was a queer old room in an old German house; a room large and dim,
+with two great windows full of diamond-shaped panes, and on the
+opposite side a huge chimney with a tall, narrow mantel-shelf and a
+tiled hearth, on which stood two brass griffins, shiny and ferocious. In
+the depths in the fire-place, behind the griffins, there Mitz was
+sobbing. I say sobbing because the children were playing "house," and
+Mitz was supposed to be the baby. What a fine play-house this big
+fire-place was in summer! It had in turn figured as Aladdin's cave and a
+school-house; a brigand ambush, and a dwelling with modern improvements.
+But now it was growing dark in the big, bare room, and you had to look
+closely into the back of the hearth to see the two little figures--one
+trotting the baby, and the other rocking the doll's cradle in which two
+of Mitz's sisters were tied with cord, for their good, of course. But
+Mitz's piteous cries raised echoes.
+
+"Mieu, mieu!" cried Mitz, trying to claw something under the pillow
+case. "Mieu, mieu!" chimed in Mitz's sisters, while little Hannah
+trotted desperately, and the doll's cradle was rocked as if by a small
+tempest.
+
+
+[Illustration: HE WOULDN'T EAT HIS BREAD AND MILK.]
+
+
+"It's no use," said little Hannah, in great perplexity; "all people's
+children arn't always bad! Mitz--you wicked Mitz!" And she shook that
+badly-behaved child. "He's been crying ever since we began to play. He
+wouldn't eat his bread and milk, though I tied on his best new bib. Oh,
+dear me, Mrs. Liseke, how noisy your children are! Suppose," said little
+Hannah, vainly endeavoring to pacify the indignant Mitz, "suppose, Mrs.
+Liseke, we take the children out for a walk?"
+
+Out of the hearth crept Hannah, with Mitz hugged to her heart, and her
+short, round figure all the rounder for an ancient shawl and a venerable
+cap perched on the top of her plump, rosy face. Hannah had just passed
+the brass griffins, when some one burst into the room. There was a
+vision of two long stockings with a hole in one knee, a faded velveteen
+suit, a pair of brass-tipped boots, a bright patch in the seat of the
+short breeches, and a look of triumph on a round face with a turn-up
+nose, while a grin, extending from ear to ear, discovered a loss of
+several front teeth in the big mouth.
+
+"Max, how you frightened me!" cried Hannah; then, "oh, Maxy, what's the
+matter?" Mitz was forgotten; he gave a leap, shawl and pillow-case, and
+before Hannah could prevent, had crept out of his bandages and was
+standing a free cat, with arched back and a defiant tail. By this time
+Mrs. Liseke had come out of the fire-place with her two youngest in her
+arms. She was elegantly dressed in a bed-sheet, which trailed behind her
+and was gracefully tied under her chin. Mitz's mother followed,
+stretching all-fours luxuriously.
+
+No, Max wouldn't tell. He plunged two black hands in his breeches'
+pockets and made up faces and danced a wild war dance, while Mitz and
+family fled into various corners.
+
+"Why don't you slap him?" pouted Liseke.
+
+"No," little Hannah said, wisely. "He likes cookies." Coaxingly: "Maxy
+dear, won't you tell?"
+
+"No, you bet I won't! you're nothing but girls."
+
+"Is it a surprise, Max?" Hannah suggested, anxiously.
+
+"Won't tell yer," contemplating his brass-tipped toes.
+
+"Maxy, I'll give you a big cookey if you'll tell."
+
+"You nasty thing, I don't want a cookey."
+
+"Maxy: two? three--four--five--six--there! now you'll tell?"
+
+"Give 'em first," said this practical boy, apparently conquered.
+
+Six noble cookies were counted into his hand.
+
+"Now I won't tell yer at all. It's a surprise! Father said I wasn't to
+tell," he cried, scornfully, with his mouth full.
+
+"Oh, Haneke, papa's going to surprise us! Now I know what it is!" Liseke
+whispered excitedly "It is a piano, and perhaps--perhaps a stool. Try
+and find out from Max."
+
+"Maxy, dear," Hannah said, imploringly, "is it covered with plush?"
+
+"Why, how do you know?" Max cried, unguardedly, as he was finishing his
+sixth cookey.
+
+"I knew it, I knew it," Liseke gasped, wildly.
+
+"Does it make a noise if, well, say, if you bang on it?" Hannah cried,
+with a beating heart.
+
+"Why--why--yes," Max acknowledged, wrathfully, with a futile kick at
+Mitz's mother, who was purring about his legs. "There, you mean thing,
+you're always trying to find out something! Just you wait till I tell
+yer anything more!" he cried, and slam-banged himself out of the room,
+with his bosom full of suppressed injuries.
+
+"He was mad because we guessed," Liseke cried, joyfully.
+
+"A piano!" Hannah gasped, as the door went to with a crash.
+
+"A stool," Liseke added; then, "Let's tell mamma!"
+
+That dear, gentle mother, sitting by the dim window trying to mend by
+the last flicker of daylight! She looked up lovingly as the door flew
+open.
+
+"Mamma," gasped Hannah, "papa's got a surprise for us."
+
+"Max said so," chimed in the other. "We've guessed, mother dear."
+
+"It's a piano."
+
+"And--and a stool."
+
+
+[Illustration: MAX KNOWS OF A SURPRISE.]
+
+
+"He said it'ud make a noise; and was covered with plush."
+
+"O, dear children, surely papa wouldn't buy you a piano. He can not
+afford it," and two kind hands were stretched out to the children.
+
+"Oh, yes it is," the two cried hopefully.
+
+"You know, mamma, papa's always promised us a surprise, and he's never
+done it yet!" Hannah cried, and laid her round cheek against the
+delicate, pale face.
+
+There was no use arguing; the children were convinced. They were sure of
+the piano.
+
+"There, mamma, didn't we tell you so," they cried, as Max came in,
+mysterious and exasperating.
+
+"Father says the surprise will be ready for you to-morrow afternoon at
+three o'clock in the sitting room," he cried, and was gone, leaving a
+momentary vision of a bright patch in the seat of his breeches.
+
+"Poor child," thought the little mother, regretfully; "he is all in
+rags--I wish I had some money!" with a patient sigh.
+
+"There, mamma, we told you so! It'll stand by the window in the corner
+of the sitting-room," two excited voices cried, and the next moment the
+sitting-room was invaded by two small figures who looked at the empty
+corner by the window with delicious expectancy; and so the day went
+slowly by.
+
+In another room the little mother looked at her husband wistfully.
+"Karl," she began, timidly, "have you really prepared a surprise for the
+children? You won't disappoint them?"
+
+"Betty, don't say a word! Wait! Did I ever disappoint you?"
+
+Betty turned away with a half-suppressed sigh, while papa Karl strode up
+and down the room grandly, virtuously, with a good deal of injured
+innocence in his face.
+
+
+II.
+
+The great day had come. Hannah and Liseke hadn't slept a wink all night.
+
+Mitz and family had come purring into the room in the early morning, as
+usual, but had been shamefully neglected. All six sat in a row by the
+bedside, watching indignantly the two heads peeping out from the
+feathers.
+
+"To-day!" Hannah sighed rapturously.
+
+How they got into their clothes, they never knew.
+
+As for eating! why, they couldn't touch the delicious rolls, the glasses
+of milk, even that delicious preserve, "Apfel-kraut."
+
+Max alone was himself, and, in his injured way, managed to eat enough
+for three. Yet, he was not satisfied; at the age of eight life had few
+attractions left for him.
+
+Who could believe that a September day would be so long? Or that the old
+clock in the hall would go so ridiculously slow? There was a quiet
+jocularity in the motion of its long pendulum, as if it were laughing
+bitterly that anyone could be in a hurry. "Ha! ha! ha!" ticked the
+clock.
+
+"Oh, dear!" Hannah said with a sigh, "will it never be three?"
+
+How they kept their ears open to hear a crowd of men come stumbling up
+the stone steps with the weight of the piano!
+
+"Perhaps it is already here," Liseke said, faintly.
+
+"Perhaps it's coming," Hannah suggested, hopefully.
+
+"One--two--three--," the clock struck.
+
+"Come, mamma!" the children cried; and so they opened the sitting-room
+door with trembling hands.
+
+Nobody there; nothing there. Mamma sat down in a corner and began
+knitting, while the children looked out of the window into the narrow
+street to see a wagon drive up to the house.
+
+"Perhaps they've forgotten all about it," Liseke was saying tremulously,
+when the sitting-room door burst open and there stood Max and behind
+him, papa Karl.
+
+"Oh, Max, Max, where's the surprise?" the children implored.
+
+"Why, don't you see!" Max cried, mightily injured, and turning himself
+about disclosed his small person arrayed in a new velveteen suit
+brilliant with brass buttons.
+
+"Oh--dear--dear," sobbed little Hannah with the tears rolling down, "we
+thought it was a piano!'
+
+"Did I say it was a piano?" Max howled.
+
+"You said it--it--was--was--covered with pl--plush," Liseke sobbed.
+
+"Well, isn't it?"
+
+"And--and you said it 'ud make a noise if one b--banged on it," Hannah
+cried, piteously.
+
+"Well, see if it don't!" Max shrieked, when papa Karl's hand came down
+upon him with such superb effect there was no doubting the truth of the
+assertion.
+
+"Ungrateful children, you are never satisfied," papa Karl cried
+majestically. "No matter what I do for you, you're always ungrateful--"
+
+
+[Illustration: THE SHAMEFULLY NEGLECTED SIX.]
+
+
+"But Karl," mamma Betty interrupted, with quiet decision, in the midst
+of a storm of sobs, "you can't expect the children to be very much
+delighted because Max gets a new suit--something necessary."
+
+"And it's so tight I can't breathe," Max cried, goaded to frenzy by the
+general grief.
+
+"Ingrates!" gasped papa Karl, and strode up and down the room, while
+Liseke sobbed her grief out on mamma's shoulder, and Max hid his face in
+her lap, and Hannah was bravely trying to dry her brown eyes.
+
+"Karl, they are children," mamma Betty said: softly patting Max's head;
+then lifting it up gently; "Max, go to the confectioners." Max sprang to
+his feet as a war-horse at the sound of a trumpet.
+
+"Here are ten groschens;"--mamma Betty took them out of her scanty purse
+with something of a sigh;--"buy as much cake and whatever you like.
+Liseke tell Marie to make a pitcher of chocolate instantly. My little
+Hannah, you may set the table."
+
+"Oh, mamma, may I put on the pretty china cups and saucers?" Hannah
+pleaded, as Max and Liseke bounded out of the room.
+
+"Yes, but be careful, my dear."
+
+"Chocolate!" said papa Karl with some scorn, "bribing them for the sake
+of peace."
+
+They were children, she said. Had papa Karl forgotten that he, too, had
+once been a child?
+
+Papa Karl had forgotten this trifling circumstance but he magnanimously
+declared he forgave them all.
+
+There was a pattering of feet down the entry, and three tear-stained
+faces looked timidly in.
+
+"The chocolate is on the table," Hannah said bravely, with only one tiny
+sob. Then the door closed and the little feet patted down the corridor.
+
+"Come Karl, and drink a cup of chocolate. You need it as much as the
+children, for you were disappointed also. You thought to give them a
+pleasure, you mistaken man," mamma Betty said with a little smile.
+
+"I really meant to," said Karl, quite softened.
+
+Mamma Betty was just opening the door, when she suddenly paused.
+
+"Karl," she said quite seriously, "will you promise me one thing?"
+
+"Yes, my dear."
+
+"Never surprise us again; surprises always end in disappointments."
+
+"Well, Betty I promise," papa Karl said hurriedly, and he kept his word.
+So years after, when papa Karl's purse was a good deal fuller, and a
+piano did make its appearance, it was welcomed solemnly, as something
+long and rapturously expected.
+
+
+
+
+APRIL FOOLS AND OTHER FOOLS.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+The custom of playing a joke upon one's neighbor upon the First of April
+is of very ancient origin, dating so far back in the past that we are
+unable to tell just when or with what nation it had its birth.
+
+There was a time, very many years ago, when the year began on the
+twenty-fifth of March. Then, as now, New Years' was a great feast of the
+Church; and as the First of April was what was termed the _octave_--that
+is, the eighth day after the commencement of the feast--it has been
+thought that the feast which terminated upon that day closed in
+April-fooling. In support of this theory we find that the Catholic
+Church, at one time in its early history, observed an annual feast
+called "The Feast of the Ass." The day upon which this feast was held
+answers to our sixth of January, which now is called "Twelfth-Day." The
+day was devoted to merry-making, masquerading, jesting, and to fun in
+general.
+
+Among the Hindoos there is a feast which is still observed, called the
+"Huli," which, continuing several days, terminates on the thirty-first
+of March. One of the distinctive features of this feast is, that every
+one endeavors to send his neighbor upon some errand to some imaginary
+person, or to persons whom he knows are not at home; and then all enjoy
+a good laugh at the disappointment of the messenger. The observance of
+this custom by this peculiar people seems to indicate that it had a very
+early origin among mankind. In fact, it is not impossible that the
+manner in which the day is observed by us may have been suggested by
+some pagan custom. But whatever or whenever its origin may have been, we
+find it so widely prevalent over the earth, and with so very near a
+coincidence of day, as to be proof of its great antiquity.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+The observance of April Fools' Day is a very popular one in France, and
+we find traces of it there at a much earlier period than we do in
+England. It is related that Francis, Duke of Lorraine, and his wife,
+having been confined at Nantes as prisoners, successfully made their
+escape on the First of April. Taking advantage of this day, when they
+knew the guards would be upon the lookout lest some joke should be
+played upon them, they disguised themselves as peasants, the Duke
+carrying a hod upon his shoulder, and his wife bearing a basket of
+rubbish upon her back. Thus disguised, they passed through the gates of
+the city at an early hour of the day. There was one person, however, who
+guessed their secret. This was a woman who was an enemy of the Duke and
+his wife, and she at once resolved that they should not thus escape. She
+therefore hastened to one of the guards and told him of the escape of
+the prisoners. But the soldier only regarded it as an attempt to play a
+joke upon him, and at once cried out "April Fool!" to let the woman know
+that he had not forgotten what day it was. Hearing the soldier call out
+this, the rest of the guard, led by their sergeant, shouted "April
+Fool!" until the woman was forced to retire without being able to
+accomplish her errand. When at last it was learned that she had told
+them the truth, it was too late, the Duke and his wife having made good
+their escape.
+
+In France, the person who is April-fooled is called _poisson d'Avril_.
+Upon a certain occasion a French lady stole a watch from a friend on the
+First of April. The theft having been discovered, and the lady accused
+of having taken the watch, she endeavored to pass off the affair as _un
+poisson d'Avril_.
+
+Having denied that the watch was in her possession, her rooms were
+searched, and the missing article found upon a chimney-piece. When shown
+the watch the thief coolly replied: "Yes; I think I have made the
+messenger a fine _poisson d'Avril_."
+
+However, the magistrate ordered that she be confined in prison until the
+First of April following, "_comme un poisson d' Avril_."
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+In England, the custom of April-fooling is practiced very much as it is
+in the United States. "A knowing boy will despatch a younger brother to
+see a public statue descend from its pedestal at a particular appointed
+hour. A crew of giggling servant-maids will get hold of some simple
+swain, and send him to a bookseller's shop for the 'History of Eve's
+Grandmother,' or to a chemist's for a pennyworth of 'pigeon's milk,' or
+to the cobbler's for a little '_strap_-oil,' in which last case the
+messenger secures a hearty application of the strap to his shoulders,
+and is sent home in a state of bewilderment as to what the affair means.
+The urchins in the street make a sport of calling to some passing beau
+to look to his coat-skirts; when he either finds them with a piece of
+paper pinned to them or not; in either of which cases he is saluted as
+an 'April-fool!'"
+
+
+[Illustration: FIRST OF APRIL DANGER.]
+
+
+It has been said that "what compound is to simple addition, so is Scotch
+to English April-fooling." The people living in Scotland are not content
+with making a neighbor believe some single piece of absurdity, but
+practice jokes upon him _ad infinitum_. Having found some unsuspecting
+person, the individual playing the joke sends him away with a letter to
+some friend residing two or three miles off, for the professed purpose
+of asking for some useful information, or requesting a loan of some
+article, while in reality the letter contains only the words:
+
+    "This is the first day of April,
+    Hunt the gowk another mile."
+
+The person to whom the letter is sent at once catches the idea of the
+person sending it, and informs the carrier with a very grave face that
+he is unable to grant his friend the favor asked, but if he will take a
+second note to Mr. So-and-so, he will get what was wanted. The obliging,
+yet unsuspecting carrier receives the note, and trudges off to the
+person designated, only to be treated by him in the same manner; and so
+he goes from one to another, until some one, taking pity on him, gives
+him a gentle hint of the trick that has been practiced upon him. A
+successful affair of this kind will furnish great amusement to an
+entire neighborhood for a week at a time, during which time the person
+who has been victimized can hardly show his face. The Scotch employ the
+term "gowk" to express a fool in general, but more especially an April
+fool; and among them the practice which we have described is called
+"hunting the gowk."
+
+Sometimes the First of April has been employed by persons wishing to
+perpetrate an extensive joke upon society. Among those which have come
+to our knowledge the most remarkable one occurred in the city of London
+in 1860. Towards the close of March a large number of persons received
+through the post-office a card upon which the following was printed:
+
+                "TOWER OF LONDON.
+
+            ADMIT THE BEARER AND FRIEND
+
+                   to view the
+
+     ANNUAL CEREMONY OF WASHING THE WHITE LIONS,
+
+                       on
+
+              SUNDAY, APRIL 1ST, 1860.
+
+         _Admitted only at the White Gate._
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+     It is particularly requested that no gratuities be
+     given to the wardens or their assistants."
+
+To give the card an official appearance, there was a seal placed at one
+corner of it, marked by an inverted sixpence. There were but few persons
+receiving the cards who saw through the trick, and hence it was highly
+successful. As soon as the first streaks of gray were seen in the east,
+cabs began to rattle about Tower Hill, and continued to do so all that
+Sunday morning, vainly endeavoring to discover the "White Gate," the
+joke being that there was no such gate.
+
+In the United States the greater part of the attention which is paid to
+April Fools' Day comes from children. In cities, especially, it is made
+much of by the "street Arabs," who watch every opportunity to play some
+trick upon every countryman whom they chance to see. Although we may
+laugh at jokes which are played upon All-Fools' Day, yet the greater
+part of them are unjust and improper, and it would be much better were
+they left undone.
+
+While speaking of April fools we are reminded of the Wise Fools of
+Gotham, and are constrained to tell our young readers about them in this
+connection. Gotham is a village in Nottinghamshire, in England. At one
+time, when King John and his retinue were marching towards the village,
+the people learned that he intended to pass through Gotham meadow. Now
+the ground over which a king passed became forever after a public
+highway, and should they suffer the king to pass through their meadow
+the villagers saw that they would lose it.
+
+
+[Illustration: DROWNING THE EEL.]
+
+
+This they resolved not to do, and therefore devised a plan which caused
+the king to pass another way. When the king learned what had been done
+he was very angry, and at once sent messengers to inquire why they had
+been so rude, intending, no doubt, to punish them for what they had
+done. When the Gothamites learned of the approach of the messengers they
+were as anxious to escape punishment as they had been to save their
+meadow. They immediately came together and agreed upon a plan by which
+to save themselves. They at once set about carrying their plans into
+effect, and when the king's messengers arrived they found some of the
+inhabitants endeavoring to drown an eel in a pond; some dragging their
+carts and wagons to the top of a barn to shade the wood from the sun's
+rays; some tumbling cheeses down a hill in the expectation that they
+would find their way to Nottingham Market, and some were employed in
+hedging in a cuckoo which had perched upon an old bush. Seeing men
+engaged in such employments as these the king's servants were convinced
+that the villagers were all fools, and quite unworthy the king's notice.
+The villagers, however, seeing that they had outwitted the king,
+considered themselves wise. To the present day a "cuckoo bush" stands
+upon the spot where it is said that the inhabitants of Gotham endeavored
+to hedge in the bird.
+
+There is another class of Fools which deserve mention. These are called
+Court Fools or Jesters. Until within a comparatively short time ago,
+every king had his Jester, whose duty it was to furnish mirth and
+merriment for the royal household. The real Court Fool was in reality a
+fool by birth, while a Jester was a _pretended_ fool. The former was
+dressed in "a parti-colored dress, including a cowl, which ended in a
+cock's-head, and was winged with a couple of long ears; he, moreover,
+carried in his hand a stick called his bauble, terminating either in an
+inflated bladder or some other ludicrous object, to be employed in
+slapping inadvertent neighbors."
+
+
+[Illustration: SAVING THE SHINGLES.]
+
+
+On the other hand, the Jester selected his clothes not only with a view
+to their grotesqueness but also with an eye to their richness. While the
+real fool "haunted the kitchen and scullery, messing almost with the
+dogs, and liable, when malapert, to a whipping," the pretended fool was
+comparatively a companion to the sovereign who engaged his services.
+Berdic, the Jester of the Court of William the Conqueror, for instance,
+was considered of so great importance that three towns and five
+carucates were conferred upon him.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONNOR MAGAN'S LUCK AND OTHER
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Connor Magan's Luck and Other Stories,<br />
+by M. T. W.</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: Connor Magan's Luck and Other Stories</p>
+<p>       Connor Magan's Luck; Why Mammy Delphy's Baby Was Named Grief; Sammy Sealskin's Enemy; Nannette's Live Baby; Brothers For Sale; A Story of a Clock; Naughty Zay; The Legend of the Salt Sea; The Man with the Straw Hat; Ruffles and Puffs; Sugar River; A Pioneer "Wide Awake"; Surprised; April Fools and Other Fools</p>
+<p>Author: M. T. W.</p>
+<p>Release Date: August 21, 2005  [eBook #16576]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONNOR MAGAN'S LUCK AND OTHER STORIES***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by Bill Tozier, Barbara Tozier, Pilar Somoza,<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (https://www.pgdp.net/)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<div class="note">
+Transcriber's Note: The table of contents and list of illustrations
+(specially captions in cursive characters)
+were not in the original edition.
+</div>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<!-- Page 1 -->
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="connor_dreams"></a>
+<a href="images/001_big.jpg"><img class="biggap" src="images/001_thumb.jpg" alt="CONNOR DREAMS A DAY-DREAM." title="CONNOR DREAMS A DAY-DREAM." /></a><br/>
+<span class="caption">CONNOR DREAMS A DAY-DREAM.</span>
+</div>
+
+<hr/>
+
+<!-- Page 2 -->
+
+
+
+<h1 class="gap">CONNOR MAGAN'S LUCK.</h1>
+
+<h3 class="biggap">BY</h3>
+
+<h2>M.T.W.</h2>
+
+<h3 class="gap">And other stories.</h3>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img class="biggap" src="images/002.jpg" alt="Decorative Illustration" title="Decorative Illustration" />
+</div>
+
+
+<h3 class="biggap">BOSTON:<br/>
+D. LOTHROP &amp; COMPANY,</h3>
+<h4>FRANKLIN ST., CORNER OF HAWLEY.</h4>
+<h4>1881</h4>
+<!-- Page 3 -->
+<!-- Page 4 -->
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="blockquot center">
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<a href="#CONNOR_MAGANS_LUCK">CONNOR MAGAN'S LUCK.</a><br/>
+<a href="#WHY_MAMMY_DELPHYS_BABY_WAS_NAMED_GRIEF">WHY MAMMY DELPHY'S BABY WAS NAMED GRIEF.</a><br/>
+<a href="#SAMMY_SEALSKINS_ENEMY">SAMMY SEALSKIN'S ENEMY.</a><br/>
+<a href="#NANNETTES_LIVE_BABY">NANNETTE'S LIVE BABY.</a><br/>
+<a href="#BROTHERS_FOR_SALE">BROTHERS FOR SALE.</a><br/>
+<a href="#A_STORY_OF_A_CLOCK">A STORY OF A CLOCK.</a><br/>
+<a href="#NAUGHTY_ZAY">NAUGHTY ZAY.</a><br/>
+<a href="#THE_LEGEND_OF_THE_SALT_SEA">THE LEGEND OF THE SALT SEA.</a><br/>
+<a href="#THE_MAN_WITH_THE_STRAW_HAT">THE MAN WITH THE STRAW HAT.</a><br/>
+<a href="#RUFFLES_AND_PUFFS">RUFFLES AND PUFFS.</a><br/>
+<a href="#SUGAR_RIVER">SUGAR RIVER.</a><br/>
+<a href="#A_PIONEER_WIDE_AWAKE">A PIONEER "WIDE AWAKE."</a><br/>
+<a href="#SURPRISED">SURPRISED.</a><br/>
+<a href="#APRIL_FOOLS_AND_OTHER_FOOLS">APRIL FOOLS AND OTHER FOOLS.</a><br/>
+
+<h2 class="gap">ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
+
+<a href="#connor_dreams">CONNOR DREAMS A DAY-DREAM.</a><br/>
+<a href="#connor">"CONNOR."</a><br/>
+<a href="#independent">INDEPENDENT AS A KING.</a><br/>
+<a href="#mother_maggie"><i>Mother Maggie was leaning over the new comer.</i></a><br/>
+<a href="#yer_pappy">"YER PAPPY AN' GRIEF WAR BABIES, AN' GRIEF WARN'T NAMED."</a><br/>
+<a href="#the_gate_swung"><i>The gate swung plump against the oddest great man.</i></a><br/>
+<a href="#she_couldnt">SHE COULDN'T SPARE FREDDIE.</a><br/>
+<a href="#the_wonder_mill">THE WONDER-MILL GRINDS.</a><br/>
+<a href="#the_geist">THE GEIST.</a><br/>
+<a href="#lou">LOU.</a><br/>
+<a href="#sugar">ON THE WAY TO SUGAR RIVER.</a><br/>
+<a href="#bread_and_milk">HE WOULDN'T EAT HIS BREAD AND MILK.</a><br/>
+<a href="#max_knows">MAX KNOWS OF A SURPRISE.</a><br/>
+<a href="#shamefully_neglected">THE SHAMEFULLY NEGLECTED SIX.</a><br/>
+<a href="#first_of_april">FIRST OF APRIL DANGER.</a><br/>
+<a href="#drowning_eel">DROWNING THE EEL.</a><br/>
+<a href="#saving_shingles">SAVING THE SHINGLES.</a><br/>
+</div>
+
+<hr/>
+
+<h2><a name="CONNOR_MAGANS_LUCK" id="CONNOR_MAGANS_LUCK"></a>CONNOR MAGAN'S LUCK.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figleft">
+<a name="connor"></a>
+<img src="images/004.jpg" alt="I" title="I" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="noind biggergap">'m in luck, hurrah!" cried Connor Magan, as he threw up his brimless
+hat into the air&mdash;the ringing, jubilant shout he sent after it could
+only spring from the reservoir of glee in the heart of a twelve-year-old
+boy. Giving a push to the skiff in which his father sat waiting for him,
+he jumped from the shore to the boat, and struck out into the Ohio
+river.</p>
+
+<p>Tim Magan, father, and Connor Magan, son, were central figures in a very
+strange picture.</p>
+
+<p>Let us take in the situation.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 5 -->It was a Western spring freshet. The Ohio was on a rampage&mdash;a turbulent,
+coffee-colored stream, it had risen far beyond its usual boundaries,
+washed out the familiar land-marks, and, still insolent and greedy, was
+licking the banks, as if preparatory to swallowing up the whole country.
+Trees torn up by the roots, their green branches waving high above the
+flood, timbers from cottages, and wrecks of bridges, were floating down
+to the Gulf of Mexico.</p>
+
+<p>It was curious to watch the various things in the water as they sailed
+slowly along. Demijohns bobbed about. Empty store boxes mockingly
+labelled <i>dry goods</i> elbowed bales of hay. Sometimes a weak
+cock-a-doodle-doo from a travelling chicken-coop announced the
+whereabouts of a helpless though still irrepressible rooster. Back yards
+had been visited, and oyster-cans, ash-barrels and unsightly kitchen
+debris brought to light. It was a mighty revolution where the dregs of
+society were no longer suppressed, but sailed in state on the top wave.</p>
+
+<p>"It is an idle wind which blows no one good," and amid the general
+destruction the drift-wood was a God-send to the poor people, and they
+caught enough to supply them with fire-wood for months. Logs, fences,
+boards and the contents of steamboat woodyards <!-- Page 6 -->were swept into the
+
+
+
+
+current. On high points of land near the shore were collected piles
+bristling with ragged stumps and limbs of trees. The great gnarled
+branches of forest trees sometimes spread over half the river, while
+timbers lodging among them formed a sort of raft which kept out of the
+water the most wonderful things&mdash;pieces of furniture, and kitchen
+utensils which shone in the sun like silver.</p>
+
+<p>Cullum's Ripple is a few miles below Cincinnati. Here the deep current
+sets close to the shore, making a wild kind of whirlpool or eddy that
+brings drift-wood almost to land; the rippling water makes a sudden turn
+and scoops out a little cove in the sand. It is a splendid place for
+fishermen, but quite dangerous for boats.</p>
+
+<p>Not far above Cullum's Ripple is situated the Magan family mansion, or
+shanty. The river is on one side, and two parallel railroads are on the
+other. On the top of the bank, and on a level with the railroads, is a
+piece of land not much longer or wider than a rope-walk, and on this
+only available scrap the Railroad Company have built a few temporary
+houses for their workmen. They are all alike, except that a
+morning-glory grows over Magan's door.</p>
+
+<p>The colony is called Twinrip possibly the short of "Between Strip." (If
+the name does not mean <!-- Page 7 -->that, will some one skilled in digging up
+language roots, please tell me what it does mean?) The atmosphere around
+these cabins is as filled with bustling, whistling confusion as a
+chimney with smoke.</p>
+
+<p>Besides the water highway, on the other side, just a few feet beyond the
+iron roads, a horse-car track and a turnpike offer additional facilities
+for locomotion. Birds perch on the numerous telegraph wires amid wrecks
+of kites and dingy pennons&mdash;once kite-tails&mdash;nothing hurts them; and
+below the children of Twinrip appear just as free and safe, and seem to
+have as much delight in mere living as their feathered friends.</p>
+
+<p>The Magans were a light-hearted Irish family, whose cheerfulness seemed
+better than eucalyptus or sunflowers to keep off the fever and ague, and
+who made the most of the little bits of sunshine that came to them. Tim,
+a strong-armed laborer, was brakeman on the Road. His wife, a hopeful
+little body, a woman of expedients, was voted by her neighbors the
+"cheeriest, condolingest" woman in Twinrip.</p>
+
+<p>Good luck, according to her, was always coming to the Magans. It was
+good luck brought them to America&mdash;by good luck Tim became brakeman. It
+<!-- Page 8 -->was good luck that the school for Connor was free of expense, and so
+convenient.</p>
+
+<p>Her loyalty to her husband rather modified the expression of her views,
+yet she often expatiated to her eldest on his advantages, beginning,
+"There's your father, Connor&mdash;I hope you'll be as good a man! remember
+it wasn't the fashion in the ould country to bother over the little
+black letters&mdash;people don't <i>have</i> to read there&mdash;but you just mind your
+books, and some day you may come to be a conductor, and snap a punch of
+your own."</p>
+
+<p>No doubt Connor made good resolutions, but when he sat by the window in
+the school-room and looked at the dimpling, sparkling river, so
+suggestive of fishing, or at the green trees filled with birds, he was
+not as devoted to literature as a free-born expectant American citizen
+ought to be. The teacher was somewhat strict, and it may have been in
+some of her passes with Connor, the "bubblingoverest" of all her
+youngsters, that she earned the name of a "daisy lammer."</p>
+
+<p>But the boy knew some things by heart that could not be learned at
+school. To his ear, the steam whistle of each boat spoke its name as
+plainly as if it could talk. He need not look to tell whether a passing
+train was on the O. &amp; M. or on the I.C. &amp; L. <!-- Page 9 -->He knew the name of every
+fiery engine, and felt an admiration&mdash;a real friendship for the
+resistless creatures.</p>
+
+<p>To climb a tree was as easy for him as if he were a cat; there were
+rumors that he had worked himself to the top of the tall
+flag-staff&mdash;which was as smooth as a greased pole&mdash;but I will not vouch
+for their truth. He could swim like a duck, and paddled about on a board
+in the river till an ill-natured flat-boatman often snarled out that
+"that youngster would certain be drowned, if he wasn't born to be
+hanged."</p>
+
+<p>But the delight of Connor's life was to "catch the first wave" from a
+big steamer. Dennis Maloney was his comrade in this perilous game. They
+rowed their egg-shell of a boat close to the wheel. Drenched with
+spray&mdash;for a moment they felt the wild excitement of danger. Four alert
+eyes, four steady hands kept them from being sucked under&mdash;then came the
+triumph of meeting the first wave that left the steamboat, and the
+extatic rocking motion of the skiff as she rode the other waves in the
+wake&mdash;but to catch the first was the point in the frolic! Connor was
+known to many of the pilots as an adept in "catching the first wave."
+Sometimes he was "tipped" by an unlooked for motion of the machinery,
+<!-- Page 10 -->but was as certain as an india-rubber ball to rise to the surface, and a
+swim to shore was but fun to the young Magan.</p>
+
+<p>In the house, Mother Maggie was happy when little Mike was tied in his
+chair, and a bar put in the doorway to keep him from crawling into the
+attractive water, if he should break loose; and when the door was bolted
+on the railroad side, he was allowed to gaze through the window at the
+engines smoking and thundering by all day, and fixing each blazing red
+eye on him at night&mdash;an entrancing spectacle to the child. And when the
+still younger Pat was tucked up in bed sucking a moist rag, with sugar
+tied up in it, her world was all right, and at rest.</p>
+
+<p>But it would have taken a person of considerable penetration, or as
+Maggie said one who knew all "the ins and the outs" to see the peculiar
+good luck of <i>this</i> day. The water was swashing round within a few feet
+of the door. Some of the workmen had moved their beds to the space
+between the tracks, which was piled up with kitchen utensils, and looked
+like a second-hand store.</p>
+
+<p>In these days of devotion to antiques, we hear dealers in such wares say
+that things are more valuable for being carefully used. This would not
+apply to Twinrip's relics. The poor shabby furniture looked <!-- Page 11 -->more than
+ever dilapidated in the open daylight. The social air of a home that was
+lived in, pervaded this temporary baggage-room between the tracks. One
+child was asleep in a cradle, others were eating their coarse food off a
+board. When a sprinkling of rain fell, an old grandmother under an
+umbrella fastened to a bed-post went on knitting, serenely.</p>
+
+<p>Youngsters who needed rubbers and waterproofs about as much as did
+Newfoundland dogs, enjoyed the fun. One four-year old, sitting on a tub
+turned upside down, was waving a small flag, a relic of the Fourth of
+July&mdash;and looking as happy and independent as a king.</p>
+
+<p>It took all his wife's hopeful eloquence to comfort Tim. There was no
+water in Tim's cellar, because he had no cellar. The cow, their most
+valuable piece of property, was taken beyond the tracks up on the
+hillside, and fastened to a stake in a deserted vineyard. If the worst
+came to the worst, and they were drowned out of house and home, their
+neighbors were no better off, and they would all be lively together.
+That was the way Maggie put it.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="independent"></a>
+<img src="images/012.jpg" alt="INDEPENDENT AS A KING." title="INDEPENDENT AS A KING." /><br/>
+<span class="caption">INDEPENDENT AS A KING.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Do you moind, Tim," she said, "when Keely O'Burke trated his new wife
+to a ride on a hand-car? Soon as your eyes lighted on him you shouted
+like a house-a-fire, 'Number Five will be down in three <!-- Page 12 -->minutes!' Didn't
+Keely clane lose his head? But between you, you pushed the car off the
+track in a jiffy. And Mrs. O'Burke's new bonnet was all smashed in the
+ditch, an' the bloody snort of Number Five knocked you senseless. Who
+would have thought that boost of the cow-catcher was jist clear good
+luck? And you moped about with a short draw in your chist, and seemed
+bound to be a grouty <!-- Page 13 -->old man in the chimney corner that could niver lift
+a stroke for your childer, ah' you didn't see the good luck, you know,
+Tim&mdash;but when the prisident sent the bran new cow with a card tied to
+one horn, an' Connor read it when he came home from school: '<i>For Tim
+Magan, who saved the train. Good luck to him!</i>'&mdash;wasn't it all right
+then? Now you are as good as new, and our mocley is quiet as a lamb, and
+if I was Queen Victoria hersel, she couldn't give any sweeter milk for
+me. She's the born beauty."</p>
+
+<p>Well, Connor was his mother's own boy for making the most and the best
+of everything, and <i>he</i> saw several items of good luck this day.</p>
+
+<p>First: The river had risen so near the school-house that the desks and
+benches were moved up between the tracks and the school dismissed;
+therefore there was perfect freedom to enjoy the excitement of the
+occasion. It was as good as a move or a fire.</p>
+
+<p>Second: There was so much danger that the track might be undermined that
+all trains were stopped by order of the Railroad Company; therefore his
+father was at liberty.</p>
+
+<p>Third, and best of all: Larry O'Flaherty, who lived up Bald Face Creek,
+had lent him his skiff for the day. The boys had had an extatic time the
+evening <!-- Page 14 -->before, hauling in drift-wood. Though the coal-barges had bright
+red lights at their bows, and the steamboats were ablaze with green and
+red signals, and blew their gruff whistles continually, yet it was
+hardly safe to go far from the shore at night because the Ripple was so
+near. When the river was <i>rising</i> the drift was driven close to land,
+while <i>falling</i> it floated near the middle of the river. Connor could
+see the flood was still rising, and there were possibilities of a
+splendid catch, for it was daylight, and they could go where they
+pleased with Larry's boat.</p>
+
+<p>Father and son pushed out into the river. Connor felt as if he owned the
+world. Short sticks and staves were put in the bottom of the boat. Both
+fishermen had a long pole with a sharp iron hook at the end with which,
+when they came close to a log, they harpooned it. Bringing it near, they
+drove a nail into one end, and tying a rope round the nail, they
+fastened their prize to the stern of the boat. They took turns rowing
+and spearing drift-wood; and when the log-fleet swimming after them
+became large, they went to shore and secured it.</p>
+
+<p>When the dripping logs were long and heavy, it was the custom to fasten
+them with the rope close to a stake in the bank, and leave them
+floating. At <!-- Page 15 -->low water they were left high and dry on the sand.</p>
+
+<p>No other drift-wood gatherers meddled with such logs. They were
+considered as much private property as if already burning on the hearth.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm going up the hill to feed the cow, Connor," said his father, after
+a great deal of wood of every size and shape had been landed. "Mind what
+you are about, and take care of Larry's gim of a boat. It was mighty
+neighborly to lind it for the whole day. See now, how much drift you can
+pick up by yourself."</p>
+
+<p>Connor felt the responsibility, and worked diligently. He had twice
+taken a load to shore, and was quite far again in the stream, when he
+saw a strange sight. It was not Moses in the bulrushes, to be sure&mdash;but
+a child in a wicker wagon, floating down the current amid a lot of
+sticks and branches. The hoarse whistle of a steamboat near meant
+danger; and to the eye of Connor the baby-craft seemed but a little
+above the water, and to be slowly sinking.</p>
+
+<p>Connor's shout rang back from the Kentucky hills as if it came from the
+throat of an engine.</p>
+
+<p>No one answered.</p>
+
+<p>There were great logs between his skiff and the <!-- Page 16 -->child&mdash;logs and child
+were all moving together. Should he abandon Larry's precious boat?</p>
+
+<p>Connor could not consider this. He plunged into the water and swam round
+the logs. He never knew how he did it&mdash;he never knew how he cut his
+hand&mdash;he never felt the pounding of the logs&mdash;he only knew that he
+caught the wagon, kept those black eyes above the water, and pulled the
+precious freight to shore. Then, while the water was streaming from him
+in every direction, he sprang up the few steps to his mother's cabin,
+and without a word placed the child, still in the wagon, inside the
+door!</p>
+
+<p>Running back as swiftly as his feet would carry him, Connor had the good
+luck to find the deserted boat close to shore, jammed in a mass of
+drift-wood, just in the turn of the Riffle.</p>
+
+<p>Dragging it up and along the shore, he fastened it to a fisherman's
+stake just by Twinrip. Then Connor felt he had discharged his
+duty&mdash;Larry O'Flaherty's boat was safe&mdash;high and dry out of reach of
+eddying logs.</p>
+
+<p>Now, eager, dripping, and breathless&mdash;with eyes like stars, he flew home
+again.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, mother," he said, "she's fast to the post and not a hole knocked
+into her, and ain't her eyes black <!-- Page 17 -->and soft as our mooley cow's and I
+found her before the General Little ran her down&mdash;and I'm going to keep
+her always&mdash;<i>I found her</i>&mdash;isn't it lucky we have a cow?"</p>
+
+<p>What the boy said was rather mixed&mdash;you could not parse it, but you
+could understand it.</p>
+
+<p>The baby's big black eyes looked around, and she acknowledged a cup of
+milk and her deliverer by a smile. It was a strange group. In the midst
+of a puddle of water Mother Maggie was leaning over the new comer and
+trying to untie the numerous knots in a shawl which had kept the child
+in her wicker nest. Little Mike was staring open-eyed at the beads round
+baby's neck, and at the coral horseshoe which hung from them. The pretty
+little girl seemed quite contented, and with the happy unconsciousness
+of infancy was evidently quite at home.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor baby, where did she come from?" said Mother Maggie. "Won't her
+mother cry her eyes out when she can't see her? We must advertise her in
+one of those big city papers."</p>
+
+<p>"I found her," said Connor, "she's mine."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, my boy," said his mother, "she's not a squirrel&mdash;you can't keep
+her as you did the bunny you found in the hickory tree, and not ask any
+questions!"</p><p><!-- Page 18 --></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="mother_maggie"></a>
+<a href="images/018_big.jpg"><img src="images/018_thumb.jpg" alt="Mother Maggie was leaning over the new comer" title="Mother Maggie was leaning over the new comer" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<p><!-- Page 19 --><!-- Page 20 -->"I wish there were no newspapers, and that people couldn't read
+besides," wrathfully exclaimed Connor.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe," he added, with hopeful cheerfulness, "both her father and
+mother are drowned. May I keep her then? She may have half of my bread
+and milk."</p>
+
+<p>Babies were no great rarity in Twinrip, but never was there such a
+happy, bright-eyed little maiden as this waif proved to be. Among the
+children she glowed like a dandelion in the grass, and reigned like a
+queen among her subjects.</p>
+
+<p>Connor was the scholar of the family, and at length his conscience was
+sufficiently roused to make him indite an advertisement which did him
+much credit. He hoped it might be placed in some obscure corner of the
+paper where it would be overlooked.</p>
+
+<p>But next day, in a conspicuous part of the <i>Cincinnati Commercial</i>, with
+four little hands pointing to it, appeared this rather unusual notice:</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img src="images/020.png" alt="Decorative motif" title="Decorative motif" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="blockquot">"<i>Found in the Ohio river a baby in white dress with black eyes and red
+horseshoe round her neck, now belonging to Connor Magan. If the father
+and mother are not drowned they can enquire at the house of Tim Magan in
+Twinrip, where all is <!-- Page 21 -->convenient for her with a cow given by the
+President. None others need apply.</i>"</div>
+
+<hr style='width: 20%;' />
+
+<p>It was but the very next day after the "ad" appeared that a wagon drove
+down to Twinrip, with the father and mother of the baby.</p>
+
+<p>Didn't they cry and kiss and hug the lost, the found child! They lived
+on a farm in Palestine, a few miles up the river. A little stream ran
+into the Ohio close by their door, and the baby was often tied in her
+carriage and placed on the bridge under the charge of a faithful dog. It
+was a great amusement for her to watch the ducks and geese in the water.
+A sudden rise swept bridge and all away. Search had been made
+everywhere, but nothing had been heard of little Minnie. It had seemed
+like a return from death to read Connor's advertisement.</p>
+
+<p>And was not the brave lad that saved their child a hero! Again and again
+they made him tell all about the rescue. Of course they had to take
+their daughter home, but they made Connor promise to visit them at
+Palestine.</p>
+
+<p>Soon after the happy parents left, a watch came by express to the Magan
+homestead, and when Connor opened the hunting-case cover, after changing
+its <!-- Page 22 -->position till he could see something besides his own twisted face
+reflected in it, and after wiping away the spray that would come into
+his eyes, he read:</p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>CONNOR MAGAN.</i><br/>
+<i>From the grateful parents of MINNIE RIVERS.</i></p>
+
+<p>Was not her name a prophecy?</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 20%;' />
+
+<p>At the sill of the Magan homestead the flood had stopped, hesitated, and
+then gone back. Maggie always said she knew it would&mdash;they always had
+good luck. The little woman was happier than ever when she thought of
+the whole train of people that <i>might</i> have been thrown into the
+ditch&mdash;of the cut-off legs, arms and heads, and the poor creatures
+without them that <i>might</i> have been cast bleeding on the track, if it
+had not been for her faithful old Tim&mdash;and of the home with niver a
+baby, and of the darlint that would have been drowned in the bottom of
+the Ohio with her ears and eyes full of mud, if it had not been for her
+slip of a boy.</p>
+
+<p>As for Connor, he felt as if that bright-eyed girl belonged to him, and
+now that he had a watch towards it, he seemed almost a ready-made
+Conductor.</p>
+
+<p>When the waters subsided and he went back to <!-- Page 23 -->school, he studied with a
+will. His percentage grew higher.</p>
+
+<p>"Sometime," he said to himself, "I will go to Palestine. I <i>will</i> be
+<i>somebody</i>&mdash;maybe a Conductor! And a beautiful young woman with soft
+black eyes will wave her handkerchief to me as I pass by in my train!
+And after I make a lot of money"&mdash;how full the world is of money that
+young people are so sure of getting&mdash;"after I make this money I will
+bring Minnie back with me! And she will live in my house with me! And
+she will say, 'Conor I am so glad you fished me out of the Ohio with
+your drift-wood!' And won't <i>that</i> be good luck for Connor Magan!"</p>
+
+
+<!-- Page 24 -->
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="WHY_MAMMY_DELPHYS_BABY_WAS_NAMED_GRIEF" id="WHY_MAMMY_DELPHYS_BABY_WAS_NAMED_GRIEF"></a>
+WHY MAMMY DELPHY'S BABY WAS NAMED GRIEF.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Mammy Delphy was sitting out under the vines that climbed over the
+kitchen gallery, picking a chicken for dinner, and singing. And such
+singing! Some of the words ran this way:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">"Aldo you sees me go 'long <i>so</i>,</div>
+<div class="verse">I has my trials here below,</div>
+<div class="verse">Sometimes I'se up, sometimes I'se down,</div>
+<div class="verse">Sometimes I'se lebel wid de groun;</div>
+<div class="i4">Oh, git out, Satan</div>
+<div class="i4">Halla<i>lu</i>!"</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>And these words sound queer to you as you read them, perhaps, but they
+did not sound queer when Mammy Delphy was singing them. I don't believe
+that a song out of heaven could be sweeter than this and other songs
+like it that dear old Mammy sings, <!-- Page 25 -->with her turbaned head bobbing up and
+down and her foot softly keeping time to the melody. There is a sort of
+plaintive&mdash;what shall I call it?&mdash;<i>twist</i> in her voice that makes you
+choke up about the throat, if you are a boy, and sob right out if you
+are a girl. And it makes you, somehow, remember, in hearing it, all the
+sweet, sad little stories that your mother has told you about your
+little baby sister who died before you were born; or, if you have stood
+in a darkened room, holding fast to some tender and loving hand, and
+looked at a face that was dear to you lying upon its coffin pillow, you
+think of that strange and sad time. And with these thoughts come, as you
+listen, other thoughts of flying angels and shining crowns, and
+wide-opened gates of pearl. A sweetness mixed with pain&mdash;that is, the
+feeling which Mammy Delphy's singing brings to you, though you could not
+describe it, perhaps, if you tried&mdash;at least that's the feeling it
+brings to me.</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">"I'll take my shoes from off'n my feet,</div>
+<div class="verse">And walk into de golden street,</div>
+<div class="i4">Glory, Halla<i>lu</i>!"</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p class="noind">sang Mammy. Sam and Jim and Joe came filing in. They had been&mdash;well,
+where <i>hadn't</i> they been! They had been down to the Bayou, which ran a
+good quarter of a mile back of the place, "fishin for <!-- Page 26 -->cat," and chunking
+at an unwary rabbit that had taken refuge in a hollow tree; they had
+been out in the field, cutting open two or three half-grown watermelons
+to see if they were ripe; they had been across the prairie to a <i>mott</i>
+of sweet-gum trees, where they had stuck up the cuffs and bosoms of
+their shirts with gum and torn their trousers in climbing a persimmon
+tree to peep into a bird's-nest. And they were rushing across the yard
+in chase of a horned-frog when they caught sight of Mammy Delphy under
+the kitchen shed.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's go and get Mammy Delphy to give us some meat and go a
+crawfishin', boys," suggested Sam.</p>
+
+<p>"And I'm hungry, for one," added Joe.</p>
+
+<p>Accordingly they filed in, as I said, and stood for a moment listening
+to Mammy Delphy's song.</p>
+
+<p>"Give us somethin' to eat, Mammy, please," said Jim.</p>
+
+<p>"An' some craw-fish bait and a piece of string," put in the other two in
+a breath.</p>
+
+<p>"I ain't a gwine to do it, chillun," replied Mammy Delphy, giving them a
+gentle push with her elbow, for they were leaning coaxingly against her
+shoulders, "I ain't a gwine to <i>do</i> it. Yer ma's got comp'ny for dinner
+and dat sassy Marthy-Ann done tuk herself to 'Mancipation-Day, an' Jin,
+she totin of Mis' May's <!-- Page 27 -->baby to sleep, an' I ain't got <i>no</i> time to
+<i>wase</i> on yer. <i>Go</i>'long!" And as she spoke Mammy arose, chicken in
+hand, and went into the kitchen to get whatever the boys wanted, as they
+were perfectly aware she would, from the beginning.</p>
+
+<p>"Lawd o' mussy! Jest look at dat lazy nigger! Grief!" she exclaimed as
+she entered, "Grief, yer lazy good-for-nuthin' nigger, is yer gwine ter
+let dem sweet-taters burn clar up?"</p>
+
+<p>And seizing the collar of a negro man who sat nodding by the stove, she
+gave him a sound shaking. He opened his eyes, grinned and got up slowly,
+looking a little sheepish as he did so. At that moment the woolly head
+of Jin, the baby's little black nurse, was poked in at the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Daddy," she cried, "Miss May say as how she want you to come an' tie up
+her Malcasum rose, whar dem boys is done pull down."</p>
+
+<p>And Jin bestowed a withering look upon the culprits, who were already
+digging their fingers into the remnants of a meat-pie, and disappeared,
+followed by her father.</p>
+
+<p>"Mammy Delphy," said Joe, when they were out under the vines again and
+Mammy had recommenced her work, "what made you name Uncle Grief,
+<i>Grief</i>? That's a mighty funny name, <i>ain't</i> it, boys?"</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 28 -->"Well, chillun," said Mammy, plucking away at the chicken, "dat's so; it
+<i>is</i> a curus name like; me'n de ole man&mdash;he dead an' gone, chillun, long
+fo' you was born;&mdash;me'n de ole man 'sulted long time 'bout dat chile's
+name an' he war goin' on six months old fo' we name him at all."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, how <i>did</i> you happen to call him Grief?" insisted Joe.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, honey, yes. 'Twar a long time ago, chile, when Mas' Will&mdash;dat's
+<i>yer</i> pa (she nodded towards Joe) war a little fellow, heap littler'n
+you, heap littler, an' Mas' Charley&mdash;dat's <i>yer</i> pappy (to the other
+two) war a baby. I war nussen <i>him</i> long o' Grief an' Grief warn't name
+yet. Miss May&mdash;dat's yer all's Gramma whar died las' year&mdash;she use to
+come out to de back steps an' watch dem two babies nussen', Grief an'
+Mas' Charley bof at de same time in my lap; an' Mas' Will an'
+Jerry&mdash;dat's my little boy what war jes' 'bout his age&mdash;a-playing in de
+back-yard, an' sometime she laugh an' cry all at de same time an' she
+say: 'We is all one fam'ly, Delphy!' she say. Law's, chillun, dem <i>was</i>
+times! <i>You</i> don't know nuthin' 'bout dem times. Disher house was full
+up all de time wid comp'ny; gran' comp'ny, what dress all de time in
+silk an' go walkin' 'bout under de trees an' ridin' 'bout over de
+prairie <!-- Page 29 -->in de day time; and mos' every night dey call my ole man in to
+play de fiddle an' den, laws, how dem young folks dance! An' ole Mas'
+an' ole Mis' an' all de young ladies an gentlemen use to come down to de
+cabins&mdash;<i>dey</i> was all burnt up, time o' de war&mdash;an' sakes, honey! de
+hosses an' de cayages an' de niggers an' disher big plantation, all
+shinin' wid corn an' cotton! Dem <i>was</i> times!" And Mammy's old eyes
+lighted up as she went back to her youth and the glory of her family,
+for she still speaks with pride of her "fam'ly."</p>
+
+<p>"But Grief, Mammy?" said Jim.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, honey, yes. Yer pappy and Grief war babies, an' Grief warn't
+named, an' Mas' Will an' Jerry was little boys, littler'n you. 'N one
+day Miss May, she come to the back do' an' call me. I was sittin' in
+disher very place dat day, nussin dem two babies, an' my mammy (she de
+cook), gittin' dinner in de kitchen. 'Delphy,' Miss May say, 'Delphy,
+does you know whar Will an' Jerry is? Dey ain't been seen sence
+breakfast dis mornin'.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="yer_pappy"></a>
+<a href="images/030_big.jpg"><img src="images/030_thumb.jpg"
+alt="&quot;YER PAPPY AN&#39; GRIEF WAR BABIES, AN&#39; GRIEF WARN&#39;T NAMED.&quot;"
+title="&quot;YER PAPPY AN&#39; GRIEF WAR BABIES, AN&#39; GRIEF WARN&#39;T NAMED.&quot;" /></a><br/>
+<span class="caption">&quot;YER PAPPY AN&#39; GRIEF WAR BABIES, AN&#39; GRIEF WARN&#39;T NAMED.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"I felt curus-like dat minit, an' I jump up an' run all over de place
+lookin' for dem boys. 'Rectly all de house gals an' everybody&mdash;Mas' and
+Mis' an' everybody&mdash;commence to hunt for dem chillun. We look
+everywhere&mdash;in de hay-top, in de cotton <!-- Page 30 --><!-- Page 31 --><!-- Page 32 -->gin-house, out on de
+prairie&mdash;<i>everywhere</i>. Den I saw Miss May&mdash;dat's yer granma, turn
+white-like, an' she say, 'Oh Delphy, oh James'&mdash;dat's yer grandpa&mdash;'de
+ole well in de field! de ole well in de field!'</p>
+
+<p>"Over in de bayou-field&mdash;it done full up now, ole Mas' had a well dug to
+water de hosses out in. It war kivered up wid some bodes.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't 'zactly 'member 'bout goin' over to de field, but when I got
+dar wid dem two babies in my arms an' stood 'long side o' Miss May&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Mammy Delphy spoke more and more slowly. She had stopped picking the
+chicken, and great tears were rolling down her cheeks. The boys stood
+stricken and silent.</p>
+
+<p>&mdash;"Stood 'long side o' Miss May, fus thing I hear war Jerry sayin'
+weak-like an' way down in de well: 'Don't you cry, Mas' Will! Hol' on to
+my neck, Mas' Will! Hol' tight, Mas' Will! I kin hol' you up. Don't you
+be feerd Mas' Will, I kin hol' you up! Don't you be feerd Mas' Will; I
+kin hol' you up!'</p>
+
+<p>"Ole Mas' lean over de well an' look in. Mas' Will he warn't as high as
+Jerry, an' Jerry he war standin in de water up to his neck an' <!-- Page 33 -->hol'in'
+Mas' Will up out'n de water. An' dem chillun had been in dat well all
+day, honey, 'all day, an' my Jerry holdin Mas' Will out'n de water; an'
+dat water col' as ice! Den ole Mas' let down de rope dey fotch an' tole
+Mas' Will to ketch hol'. An Mas' Will&mdash;dat yer pappy, honey&mdash;he say,
+weak-like, 'Take Jerry too, pappy, take Jerry too!'</p>
+
+<p>"'We'll get Jerry next time,' says ole Mas'. An' Jerry help Mas' Will fix
+de rope roun' him an' dey pull him up out'n de water. He done fainted
+when dey got him out, an' he tuk de fever, an' dat chile war sick mos'
+six months, an' all de time he had de fever, he say: 'Take Jerry too,
+pappy, take Jerry too!' And when he come to hisself, he say right off:</p>
+
+<p>"'Where's Jerry? I want Jerry.'"</p>
+
+<p>Mammy Delphy stopped.</p>
+
+<p>"And where <i>was</i> Jerry, mammy?" cried the boys, breathless.</p>
+
+<p>"'Where war Jerry?' Ole Mas' let down de rope an' say right loud: 'Ketch
+holt, Jerry my boy!' But Jerry couldn't ketch holt, chillen. Jerry war
+dead."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Oh mammy!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, chillun, yes. Dey rub him an' rub him, an' do everything to fotch
+him to life. But, my Jerry war dead. An' when me'n de ole man come home
+from de funeral&mdash;dey buried him in de white folks' buryin'-groun,' long
+side o' Miss May's little gal what died&mdash;an' put a tombstone at de
+head&mdash;when we <!-- Page 34 -->come home from de funeral dat night, de ole man look at de
+baby on my lap an' he say, 'Delphy, honey,' he say, 'I think disher baby
+mout be name <i>Grief</i>.' An' we name him Grief."</p>
+
+<p>Mammy Delphy wiped her eyes and resumed her work. Then, looking up to
+the blue sky which shone between the vines, she began singing again:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<div class="verse">"Call me in de mornin' Lord,</div>
+<div class="verse">Or call me in de night,</div>
+<div class="verse">I'se always ready Lord,</div>
+<div class="i4">Glory Halla<i>lu</i>!"</div>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>And the boys, subdued and silent, and for a moment forgetful of
+horned-frogs and crawfish, went away softly, as if leaving a grave.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 35 --></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="SAMMY_SEALSKINS_ENEMY" id="SAMMY_SEALSKINS_ENEMY"></a>SAMMY SEALSKIN'S ENEMY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"Where going, Sammy Sealskin?".</p>
+
+<p>"Down to my kayah, Tommy Fishscales."</p>
+
+<p>"Is there any fish to-day?"</p>
+
+<p>"A few, they say, but there is lots of seals&mdash;plenty of 'em on the rocks
+in the bay."</p>
+
+<p>"All right; bring home something to your friend, Tommy."</p>
+
+<p>Sammy pushed off his kayah from shore. It was a funny sort of boat,
+according to our notions. It was only nine inches deep, and about a foot
+and a half wide in the middle, tapering to a point at either end and
+curving upward. It was about sixteen feet long. Its frame was of very
+light wood, and this was covered with tanned seal-skin. Sammy's mother
+was <!-- Page 36 -->a Greenlander, and she could sew on seal-skin very handily, using
+sinews for thread; and she had covered her little boy's boat with
+seal-skin, leaving a hole in the centre just large enough to receive
+Sammy.</p>
+
+<p>When he had dropped into his place, he then laced the lower border of
+his jacket to the rim of the hole, and there he was all snug&mdash;not a drop
+of water could get in. Grasping his single oar, about six feet long,
+with a paddle at either end, and flourishing it in the water right and
+left, away swept the young fisherman.</p>
+
+<p>"I should think his craft would be top-heavy, and over he would go,"
+says some reader.</p>
+
+<p>One naturally would think his craft would be top-heavy and over he would
+go, as the kayah has no keel and carries no ballast, and if we should
+try a kayah, it would certainly be on land. But those Greenlanders learn
+to handle themselves so well that their kayahs will go dancing over the
+big billows and then fly through a ragged, dangerous surf. From their
+kayahs, too, they will fight the fierce white bear.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! Sammy, what is the matter?</p>
+
+<p>"Ugh-h-h-h!"</p>
+
+<p>Sammy gives a melancholy groan. He begins to suspect that his boat is
+leaking.</p>
+
+<p><i>Could</i> any one have slit the seal-skin bottom?</p>
+
+<p>The kayah is really settling.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 37 -->Sammy feels troubled. "I <i>must</i> go home," he says.</p>
+
+<p>He turns his back upon the bright, beautiful sea, tufted with cakes of
+ice that seem in the distance like the white, pure lilies on a glassy
+pond, and paddles off home with good-by to the fishing, good-by to the
+black-headed seals, good-by to the low islands with their gulls and
+mollimucks and burgomeisters and tern and kittiwakes and
+eider-ducks&mdash;good-by to the long day's fun!</p>
+
+<p>"It makes me feel like a mad whale," said Sammy, "to be cheated out of
+my fishing. I wonder who cut my kayah!"</p>
+
+<p>Just then he looked off to the shore, and there stood Billy Blubber, an
+ancient enemy.</p>
+
+<p>"There's the fellow," said Sammy. "He slit my kayah, I know. If I had
+him, I'd eat him quicker than a tern's egg. Just see how he looks!"</p>
+
+<p>Billy did look exasperating. He saw everything and he enjoyed
+everything. Plainly he was the miscreant. He was waddling round on his
+stout little legs, flourishing a huge jack-knife, and grinning as if he
+were going to have a big dish of whale-fat for dinner. He looked comical
+enough. He was dressed in seal-skin, and was bobbing up and down in his
+mother's seal-skin boots. The women's boots are of tanned seal-skin,
+bleached white and then colored. <!-- Page 38 -->The boots of Billy's mother were very
+gay. They were bright red ones. When Billy from his tent-door saw Sammy
+coming, he crawled into the huge big boots, and bare-headed rushed&mdash;no,
+waddled out, to greet the discomfited fisherman.</p>
+
+<p>"Billy, I'll give it to you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Will you, Sammy? Try it, old boy."</p>
+
+<p>Thereupon, he put his thumb to his nose and wriggled his finger as
+exasperatingly as any Yankee boy here in this enlightened land. His flat
+face, his black little eyes, his stubby little nose, his hair black as
+coal and long behind, but fashionably "banged" in front, the seal-skin
+suit, mother's big red boots, and the nasal gesture made a very
+interesting picture, and a most provoking one also.</p>
+
+<p>"Billy, you <i>will</i> catch it!"</p>
+
+<p>"I should rather think you had caught it already. Did you bring any
+seal-fat, Sammy?"</p>
+
+<p>Sammy felt mad enough and hot enough to set the water to boiling between
+his kayah and the shore.</p>
+
+<p>"You had better run, Billy."</p>
+
+<p>"Plenty of time, Sammy."</p>
+
+<p>Sammy's kayah was now ashore. Sammy unlaced his jacket and let himself
+out of jail. Pulling his kayah high up the shore, he turned it over and
+let <!-- Page 39 -->the water escape. There were two ugly gashes in the seal-skin
+bottom&mdash;just as he expected.</p>
+
+<p>"Now where's that Billy?" asked Sammy at last. But mother's red boots
+had prudently withdrawn.</p>
+
+<p>"I <i>will</i> give it to him," said Sammy; "but I will mend this first."</p>
+
+<p>He took up his beloved kayah and walked to the little village. It was
+not very large. There were half a dozen seal-skin tents, a few houses of
+stone and turf, and one or two wooden buildings, besides the
+government-house that proudly supported the flag of Denmark.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you want, Sammy?" said his mother, as he appeared at the door
+of one of the seal-skin tents. She was sitting on a bed of reindeer
+skins.</p>
+
+<p>"I want needle and thread, mother. That Billy Blubber cut some holes in
+my kayah."</p>
+
+<p>"Billy Blubber did?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said Sammy, "and I would like to sew him up in a seal-skin and
+drop him from the top of an iceberg into the sea."</p>
+
+<p>"Tut, tut, Sammy. It's a boy's trick. Let it go."</p>
+
+<p>"There," thought Sammy, shouldering his kayah and moving off, "that is
+what mother always says when Billy harms me."</p>
+
+<p>"Where are you going, Sammy?"</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 40 -->"Off to mend my kayah, mother."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense! Only women can mend kayahs. I will fix it. You go off and
+take a walk, and then come to dinner. We are going to have a young
+seal."</p>
+
+<p>A seal! Wasn't that nice? Who wouldn't be a young Greenlander, own a
+kayah, and have seal for dinner? The prospect before Sammy made him feel
+better. The world, too, looked different.</p>
+
+<p>"What a nice place we live in!" thought Sammy. "I wouldn't live in
+Denmark for anything, old Denmark, where our rulers come from."</p>
+
+<p>The scenery about the Greenland village was indeed interesting. There
+was the blue sea before it, dotted with "pond-lilies." Off the mouth of
+the harbor, the icebergs went sailing by, so white, so stately, so slow,
+like a fleet almost becalmed. Back of the village swelled the rocky
+cliffs bare of snow now, and many rivulets went flashing down their
+sides from ponds and pools nestling in granite recesses. Away off,
+towered the mountains, their still snowy tops suggesting the powdered
+heads of grand old Titans sitting there in state.</p>
+
+<p>"Who wouldn't live in Greenland?" thought Sammy, entirely forgetting the
+long, cold, dark winter.</p>
+
+<p>However, it was summer then. He went back of his mother's seal-skin
+tent. There he could see a <!-- Page 41 -->beautiful valley in the shadow of the cliffs.
+Moss and grasses thickly carpeted it. Little brooks went sparkling
+through it. There were flowers in bloom, poppies of gold, dandelions and
+buttercups, saxifrages of purple, white and yellow. "And trees were
+there?" asks a reader. Do you see that shrub just before Sammy? That is
+the nearest thing to a tree. It is pine. If the fat for cooking the
+dinner should give out, young Miss Seal may be warmed up by the help of
+this giant pine. As a rule, we are inclined to think that Sammy takes
+his seal same as folks who like "oysters on the shell"&mdash;raw.</p>
+
+<p>"Ky-ey! Ky-ey!"</p>
+
+<p>"My!" exclaimed Sammy. "What is that noise? It must be a dog
+somewhere&mdash;hurt!"</p>
+
+<p>Sammy started to the rescue.</p>
+
+<p>"Ky-ey! Ky-ey!"</p>
+
+<p>"It must be a dog," declared Sammy, and he expected to see one of those
+large Greenland dogs, wolf-like, with sharp, pointed nose, and ears held
+up stiff as if to catch every sound of danger in their dangerous
+travels.</p>
+
+<p>Sammy rushed up a little hill before him, and rushed in such a hurry
+that he did not think how steep the other side was. He lost his balance,
+and <!-- Page 42 -->over he went, head down, seal-skin boots up, turning over like a
+cart-wheel.</p>
+
+<p>"Ky-ey! Ky-ey! Ah, Sammy! Ky-ey! Ky-ey! Catch him!"</p>
+
+<p>It was that old enemy, Billy Blubber, ky-eying in part, and laughing
+also as if he would split. He only expected to get Sammy to the top of
+the hill and there tell him he was fooled.</p>
+
+<p>"This though is better than a sea-lion hunt," thought Billy, and he
+roared again and shook till he threatened to come in pieces like a
+barrel when the hoops are off.</p>
+
+<p>"I will catch you and pay you," said Sammy.</p>
+
+<p>"Try it," defiantly shouted Billy, wearing now his own boots, having
+dropped his mother's red casings.</p>
+
+<p>Off went Billy. Right ahead, was a great gray ledge. There was a crack
+in the ledge big enough for a boy's foot. Billy was the boy to have his
+foot caught in it! He tried to pull it out, but the sudden wrench was
+not good for his foot, and there he stood yelling&mdash;he was ky-eying now
+in good earnest.</p>
+
+<p>"I have a great mind," thought Sammy, "to let you stay there. I wonder
+how you would like to stay and have a duck come along and nip off your
+nose."</p>
+
+<p>It would have been a nice little nip, for Billy's nose <!-- Page 43 -->was quite plump.
+It looked like a fat plum stuck on to the side of a pumpkin.</p>
+
+<p>Well, how long should Sammy have kept him there?</p>
+
+<p>"Till the sun went down," says some one.</p>
+
+<p>The idea! Why, the sun in summer goes round and round and round, never
+setting through June and July. Then the sun begins to dip below the
+horizon, going lower and lower, till at last it disappears. For one
+hundred and twenty-six days Sammy and Billy did not see the sun. Through
+that long, dark night, the stars would shine, so white and solemn, down
+upon the ice and snow everywhere stretching. Until the last of July
+would have been a long time for plum-nosed Billy to stand with his foot
+in that crack. Suddenly, Sammy heard a noise. "What is that?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>It was a walrus bellowing in the bay. Sammy turned toward the blue
+water. As he turned, he saw the minister standing near his chapel. Sammy
+thought of the text he preached from, the Sunday before, and he began to
+repeat it to himself:</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Love your enemies</i>&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I guess I will let Billy stay here about an hour," said Sammy,
+meditating.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Bless them that curse you</i>&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 44 -->"I guess I will let Billy stay here half an hour."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Do good to them that hate you</i>&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I guess I will let Billy stay here ten minutes."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>And pray for them which despitefully use you</i>&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I guess I will take Billy out now!" And Sammy ran towards the prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>"Billy, are you hurt?"</p>
+
+<p>Billy turned his head away, ashamed to speak.</p>
+
+<p>"Let me take your foot out."</p>
+
+<p>Billy's foot was about as fat as a bear's in July, and it came hard. He
+shook his head. His tongue stuck to his mouth like a clam to his shell,
+and moved not. Neither could he step.</p>
+
+<p>"I will take you on my back, Billy!" said Sammy.</p>
+
+<p>And that's the way they went home. Billy in his dress generally looked
+like a seal standing on his hind flippers, and Sammy resembled one
+also&mdash;nevertheless it was a pleasant sight.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 45 --></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="NANNETTES_LIVE_BABY" id="NANNETTES_LIVE_BABY"></a>NANNETTE'S LIVE BABY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>A good many years ago, in the city of Philadelphia, lived a little girl,
+named Nannette.</p>
+
+<p>One summer afternoon her mother went to pay a short visit to her aunt,
+who lived near by, and gave her little girl permission to amuse herself
+on the front door-steps until her return. So Nannette, in a clean pink
+frock and white apron, playing and chatting with her big, wax "Didy,"
+which was her doll's name, formed a pretty picture to the passers-by,
+some of whom walked slowly, in order to hear the child's talk to her
+doll.</p>
+
+<p>"You'se a big, old girl," she went on, smoothing out Didy's petticoats,
+"and I've had you for ever and ever, and I'se mos' six. But you grow no
+bigger. You never, never cry, you don't. You'se a stupid old thing, and
+I'm <i>tired</i> of <i>you</i>, I am! I b'leve you'se only a <i>make b'leve</i> baby,
+and I want a <i>real</i>, <i>live</i> baby, <!-- Page 46 -->I do&mdash;a baby that will cry! Now don't
+you see," and she gave the doll's head a whack&mdash;"that you don't cry? If
+anybody should hit <i>me</i> so, I'd squeam <i>m-u-r-d-e-r</i>, I would! And then
+the p'lissman would come, and there would be an <i>awful</i> time. There, now
+sit up, can't you? Your back is like a broken stick. Oh, hum, I'm tired
+of <i>you</i>, Didy."</p>
+
+<p>Leaving the doll leaning in a one-sided way against the door, Nannette
+posed her dimpled chin in her hands, and sat quietly looking into the
+street. Presently a woman came along with a bundle in her arms, and
+seeing Nannette and "Didy" in the doorway, went up the steps and asked
+the little girl if she would not like to have a real little <i>live</i> baby.</p>
+
+<p>"One that will <i>cry</i>?" eagerly asked Nannette.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, one that will cry, and laugh, too, after a bit," answered the
+woman, all the time looking keenly about her; and then in a hushed voice
+she asked the child if her mother was at home.</p>
+
+<p>"No&mdash;she's gone to see my auntie, shall I call her?" replied Nannette,
+jumping to her feet, and clapping her hands, from a feeling as if in
+some way she was to have her long-wished-for <i>live</i> baby.</p>
+
+<p>"No; don't call her; and if you want a baby that will <i>cry</i>, you must be
+very quiet, and listen to me. <!-- Page 47 -->Mark me now&mdash;have you a quarter of a
+dollar, to pay for a baby?"</p>
+
+<p>"I guess so," answered Nannette; "I've a lot of money up stairs." And
+running up to her room, she climbed into a chair, took down her money
+box from a shelf, and emptying all her pennies and small silver coin
+into her apron, ran down again.</p>
+
+<p>"This is as much as a quarter of a dollar, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>The woman saw at a glance that there was more than that amount, and
+hastily taking poor little Nannette's carefully hoarded pennies, she
+whispered:</p>
+
+<p>"Now carry the baby up-stairs and keep it in your own little bed. Be
+careful to make no noise, for it is sound asleep. Don't tell anybody you
+have it, until it cries. Mind that. When you hear it cry, you may know
+it is hungry."</p>
+
+<p>Then the woman went hurriedly away, and Nannette never saw her again.</p>
+
+<p>Nannette's little heart was nearly breaking with delight at the thought
+of having a real, live baby; and holding the bundle fast in her arms,
+where the woman had placed it, she began trudging up-stairs with it.
+Finally puffing and panting, her cheeks all aglow, she reached her
+little bed, and turning down the covers, she put in the bundle and
+covering it up <!-- Page 48 -->carefully, she gave it some loving little pats, saying
+softly, "<i>My</i> baby, my real, little live baby that will <i>cry</i>!" And then
+she carefully tripped out of the room and down-stairs again.</p>
+
+<p>Very soon Nannette's mother came home, bringing her a fine large apple,
+which drove all thoughts of the baby from her mind, and it was only when
+night came, and she was seated at the supper-table with her papa and
+mamma that she remembered her baby; but at that time, suddenly, from
+somewhere that surely was in the house, came a baby's cry; and clapping
+her hands, her eyes dancing with joy, Nannette began to slide down from
+her chair, saying with great emphasis, "That's <i>my</i> baby."</p>
+
+<p>Her mother laughed. "<i>Your</i> baby, Nannette?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, mamma, <i>my</i> baby; don't you hear it <i>cry</i>? 'Tis <i>hungry!</i>" And she
+started to run up-stairs, but her mother called her back.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, Nannette, what ails you? What do you mean about <i>your</i> baby?" she
+asked in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"Why <span class="sc">my baby</span>, mamma! I bought it for a quarter of a dollar! a
+baby that <i>cries</i>&mdash;not a mis'ble make b'leve baby. Oh, how it <i>does</i>
+cry! it must be <i>awful</i> hungry!" And away she darted up the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>Her father and mother arose from their seats in perfect amazement, and
+followed their little girl to <!-- Page 49 -->her room, where, lying upon her bed, was a
+bundle from which came a baby's cries. Nannette's mother began to
+unfasten the wrappings, and sure enough there was a wee little girl not
+more than two or three weeks old looking up at them with two great wet
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Of course Nannette was questioned, and she related all she could
+remember of her talk with the woman from whom she bought the baby. Her
+papa said perhaps the baby had been stolen, and that something had been
+given to it to make it sleep.</p>
+
+<p>"But what shall we do with it?" asked both the father and mother. "<i>Do</i>
+with it?" cried Nannette. "Why, it is <i>my</i> baby, mamma! I paid all my
+money for it. It <i>cries</i>, it does! I will keep it always."</p>
+
+<p>So it was decided, that the baby should stay, if nobody came to claim
+it, which nobody ever did, although Nannette's papa put an advertisement
+in a newspaper about it.</p>
+
+<p>It would take a larger book than this one in which to tell all of
+Nannette's experiences in taking care of "<i>my</i> baby," as she called the
+little girl, whom she afterward named Victoria, in honor of the then
+young queen of England.</p>
+
+<p>Victoria is now a woman, and she lives, as does Nannette, in the city of
+Philadelphia. She has a little girl of her own, "mos' six" who is named
+Nan<!-- Page 50 -->nette for the good little "sister-mother," who once upon a time
+bought her mamma of a strange woman for a quarter of a dollar, as she
+thought. And this other little Nannette never tires of hearing the
+romantic story of the indolent "Didy" and the "real little live baby
+that will <i>cry</i>."</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 51 --></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="BROTHERS_FOR_SALE" id="BROTHERS_FOR_SALE"></a>BROTHERS FOR SALE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Molly was six years old; a plump, roly-poly little girl with long,
+crimpy golden hair and great blue eyes. She had ever so many brothers;
+Fred, a year older than herself, and who went to the Kindergarten with
+her, was her favorite. Molly was very fond of swinging on the front-yard
+gate; a forbidden pleasure, by the way. This is the preface to my story
+about Molly.</p>
+
+<p>One windy, sunny day the little girl was "riding to Boston" on the front
+gate; she had swung out and let the wind blow her back again a half
+dozen times, and she was happy as a captain on the high seas, enjoying
+the swaying, dizzy motion.</p>
+
+<p>Every little girl&mdash;and many a boy&mdash;has swung on a gate, standing tip-toe
+on the lower bar, leaning the chin on the upper bar; and as the gate
+swayed outward, watched the brick pavement rush under <!-- Page 52 -->foot like a swift
+stream, all the time dreaming she was a steamboat.</p>
+
+<div class="pictop">
+<a name="the_gate_swung"></a>
+<img src="images/052_upper.jpg" alt="The gate swung plump against the oddest
+great man." title="The gate swung plump against the oddest
+great man." /></div>
+<div class="pictop"><img src="images/052_up.jpg" alt="The gate swung plump against the oddest
+great man." title="The gate swung plump against the oddest
+great man."/></div>
+<div class="picbottom"><img src="images/052_bottom.jpg" alt="The gate swung plump against the oddest
+great man." title="The gate swung plump against the oddest
+great man."/></div>
+
+<p>In some such position, with some such thoughts. I suppose, was our Molly
+when a strange cry reached her ears.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 53 -->"Brothers for sale? Brothers for sale? Got any brothers for sale?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dot a plenty," said Molly as the gate swung plump against the oddest
+great man.</p>
+
+<p>He was very tall, wore a huge fur cap, and great coat that reached from
+his chin to his ankles. The pockets were evidently so full that they
+bulged out on all sides, and his red belt was stuck full of every odd
+toy imaginable.</p>
+
+<p>He had besides, an enormous pack on his back.</p>
+
+<p>Molly's eyes, always wholly devoted to the business of seeing, observed
+all this.</p>
+
+<p>But she only remarked, "What makes your face so <i>rusty</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps he didn't hear her; anyway he repeated his cry, "Brothers for
+sale? Got any brothers for sale?" and was moving on when Molly's piping
+voice screamed after him, "Tell yer <i>yes</i>; dot a plenty!"</p>
+
+<p>This time he stood still.</p>
+
+<p>"Dot one, two, free&mdash;many's <i>ten</i> I fink. Tommy, he's naughty, calls my
+rag dolly a meal-bag&mdash;I'll sell him. He's a drefful wicked boy; he snaps
+beans at the teacher and gets a whipping every single day."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll take him," said the big man. "How much shall I pay you&mdash;what shall
+I give you for him?"</p>
+
+<p>"A han'kercher with some <i>perfoomery</i> on it."</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 54 -->"Yes, yes, here you have it," he said, and taking a great bottle from
+his belt, and a little blue-bordered handkerchief from one pocket, he
+sprinkled it profusely with some real cologne and gave it to the
+delighted child.</p>
+
+<p>"Any more brothers for sale, little girl? I'm in want of some boys?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir! You can have Johnny, he tears up my dolls and mamma lets him
+wear my bestest sash&mdash;<i>and</i> the baby, he gets the coli'c and
+screams&mdash;<i>and</i> Harry, he won't bring in the wood for mamma, and he eats
+up my candy and has cookies for supper and I don't, <i>and</i>&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll take 'em all," grunted the big man.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll sell Harry for a doll with <i>truly</i> hair and a black silk and
+ear-rings and some choc'late ca'mels," said she with the air of an old
+trader.</p>
+
+<p>"What luck!" he laughed; and diving into another pocket, he brought
+forth a handful of candy and filled Molly's apron pockets, then taking
+off his great cap he shook down a lovely doll, with <i>truly</i> hair indeed,
+long and curly, dressed in a black silk with train and pull-back just
+like mamma's.</p>
+
+<p>"And what'll you sell Jonathan for?"</p>
+
+<p>"Johnny, you mean&mdash;you can have him for a kitten sir."</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 55 -->In an instant the fur cap was off, and a little mewing kitten was
+produced, for her wondering and delighted gaze.</p>
+
+<p>"And the baby&mdash;he wouldn't be worth much to me&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he is to me&mdash;but I'll sell him for a red cardinal sash and a
+little sister 'bout as big as Tilly White."</p>
+
+<p>"Whew!" he exclaimed, "you most take my breath away! but here's the
+sash&mdash;a beauty, too&mdash;I don't happen to have any little sisters with me,"
+feeling of the outside of his pockets, peering into his pack, and even
+taking off the great cap and shaking it as if a little girl <i>might</i> be
+folded up in that. "No, really I haven't a little sister about me, but
+don't you cry; I'll bring one round to-morrow&mdash;and now I must be picking
+up these brothers&mdash;where are they?"</p>
+
+<p>"Baby Willie is in the back-yard in his carriage and Johnny and Harry
+are playing <i>fooneral</i> with him," said she, gravely.</p>
+
+<p>"But that wasn't all; don't cheat me, little girl!" frowned the big
+freckled-faced man.</p>
+
+<p>"No! I wasn't going to&mdash;Tommy&mdash;he's in the yard round the corner there
+with the big boys&mdash;he's 'leven&mdash;he's my greatest brother&mdash;he's a drefful
+<!-- Page 56 -->wicked boy&mdash;" Molly was going on with the bean-story very likely, but at
+that moment the funeral procession of a baby carriage and two followers
+filed up.</p>
+
+<p>The great man darted forward, seized three-year-old Johnny and Harry in
+his arms, stuffed one head-first, the other legs-first, into the
+monstrous pack.</p>
+
+<p>The one that went in head-first had his fat legs left dangling; the one
+that went in legs-first, his head sticking out.</p>
+
+<p>The baby went into one of his deep pockets where his screams were
+stifled.</p>
+
+<p>This was the work of a second and the man hurried out of sight, saying
+cheerily over his shoulder to Molly, "I'll bring round the little sister
+to-morrow."</p>
+
+<p>Molly had so many things to take her attention that she had no time to
+be conscience-smitten.</p>
+
+<p>There was her odorous handkerchief; her sash, which she hung over her
+arm; her pockets full of candy; under one arm the wonderful doll; under
+the other, the live kitten.</p>
+
+<p>But in a half hour the doll had ceased to charm; she couldn't tie the
+sash herself; the "perfoomery" had evaporated; the kitten had scratched
+her hand because Molly had picked her up by the tail; only a few
+chocolate caramels were left, and, I suspect that all seemed as "vanity
+of vanities" to <!-- Page 57 -->poor Molly. Just then Fred, her favorite and only
+remaining brother, came dancing down the path and stopped, amazed before
+Molly's display of wealth.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="she_couldnt"></a>
+<img src="images/057.jpg" alt="SHE COULDN&#39;T SPARE FREDDIE." title="SHE COULDN&#39;T SPARE FREDDIE." /><br/>
+<span class="caption">SHE COULDN&#39;T SPARE FREDDIE.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Somehow the "choc'late ca'amels" tasted sweeter <!-- Page 58 -->again when she shared
+them with Fred, and she couldn't help saying, "Ain't they <i>boolicious</i>,
+Freddie?"</p>
+
+<p>She hadn't time to tell Freddie how she came possessed of all her
+treasures, for there again appeared at the gate the same great man, with
+his cry, "Brother for sale!"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no!" screamed Molly, throwing her two fat arms round Fred, at the
+same time crying, "Run away Freddie, quick! run away."</p>
+
+<p>Now considering that Fred had the doll and the kitten in his lap, and
+his sister's arms around his neck, it wasn't strange that the little
+fellow didn't run.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll give you ten dollars for this boy," said the great man, unwinding
+Molly's arms, and picking fat Fred up, and thrusting him like a roll of
+cotton batting under his arm.</p>
+
+<p>Molly screamed and&mdash;and&mdash;well&mdash;she woke.</p>
+
+<p>She hadn't been swinging on the gate at all; there wasn't any horrid,
+<i>rusty</i>-faced man standing by her; she had been asleep in school and
+dreaming.</p>
+
+<p>But she couldn't believe it; and with all Miss Winche's kind coaxing,
+she wouldn't lift her face from her desk, and would only sob, "I want my
+Freddie! I want my Freddie!"</p>
+
+<p>The funniest part of it was, the child hadn't been asleep five minutes.
+She had been idly listening to <!-- Page 59 -->a spelling class, and just after the word
+"<i>sail</i>" dropped into a nap.</p>
+
+<p>By the way, perhaps I should not omit to mention that before she went to
+school that morning she had declared to her mother that boys were
+<i>bothers</i>; no wonder! baby Willie, at breakfast, had punched his little
+fist down into her mug, spilled the milk, and sent the mug crashing on
+the floor. Johnny had taken the orange out of her sacque pocket, and she
+had to let him have it because he was "a little fellow," and Harry and
+Tommy had carried all the cookies to school in their pockets.</p>
+
+<p>But now&mdash;after the dream, Molly hugged the baby; and she said
+confidentially to mamma, "Isn't he sweet?&mdash;I don't think boys are a
+bother, do you, mamma?"</p>
+
+<p>And a little later, while rocking her old rag-doll, "mamma," said she,
+"I won't ever swing on the front-gate again ever&mdash;ever&mdash;ever in my
+life."</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 60 --></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="A_STORY_OF_A_CLOCK" id="A_STORY_OF_A_CLOCK"></a>A STORY OF A CLOCK.</h2>
+
+
+<p>My real name was so short that I was called Nancy, "for long." I was the
+fourth child in a very large family. The three elder were a brother and
+two sisters. The first, very quick at books and figures, finished his
+education at an early age, and seemed to me about as old and dignified
+as my father. My sisters, Sarah and Mary, were exemplary in school and
+out. The former, at eight, read Virgil; painted "Our Mother's Grave" at
+eleven&mdash;'twas an imaginary grave judging from the happy children
+standing by; wrote rhymes for all the albums, printed verses on
+card-board and kept on living. Mary read every book she could find; had
+a prize at six years of age for digesting "Rollins' Ancient History;"
+had great mathematical talent, and though she sighed in her fourteenth
+year that she had grown <!-- Page 61 -->old, yet continues to add to her age, being one
+of the oldest professors in a flourishing college.</p>
+
+<p>With such precedences, it is not strange that my parents were astonished
+when their fourth child developed other and less exaggerated traits,
+with no inclination to be moulded. Within ten months of my eighth year,
+my teacher, who had previously dealt with Sarah and Mary with great
+success, made the following remark to me: "If thou wilt learn to answer
+all those questions in astronomy," passing her pencil lightly over two
+pages in <i>Wilkin's Elements</i> "before next seventh day, I'll give thee
+two cents and a nice note to thy parents" (my father was a scientific
+man, and my mother a prime mover in our education).</p>
+
+<p>"Two cents" did seem quite a temptation, but the lesson I concluded not
+to get. "I worked wiser than I knew." I may have wanted a "two cents"
+many a time since, but I never was sorry about that. Spelling,
+arithmetic, grammar, geography, history and reading, though they were
+the Peter-Parley edition, seemed about enough food for a child that was
+hungering and thirsting for a doll like Judith Collin's, and for
+capacity to outrun the neighboring boys. To be sure the recitation in
+concert, where the names of the asteroids, only four in number (instead
+of a <!-- Page 62 -->million and four) were brought out by some of us, as "vesper,"
+"pallid," "you know," and "serious" showed that we did not confine
+ourselves too closely to the book.</p>
+
+<p>Seventh-day afternoon was a holiday, and on one of these occasions I was
+sent to stay with my grandmother, as my mother, as my maiden aunt (the
+latter lived with my grandmother) were going to Polpis to a corn-pudding
+party. I was too troublesome to be left at home, therefore, two birds
+were to be killed with one stone.</p>
+
+<p>Now I had for a long time desired to be left alone with my lame and deaf
+grandmother and the Tall Clock, especially the Tall Clock. I went,
+therefore, to her old house on Plover street in a calm and lovely frame
+of mind and helped get my aunt ready for the ride.</p>
+
+<p>'Twas a cold day though September; and after she took her seat in the
+flag-chair tied into the cart, I conceived the notion to add my
+grandmother's best "heppy" to the wraps which they had already put into
+the calash. I always had wanted a chance at that camphor-trunk; and the
+above cloak, too nice to be worn, lay in the bottom underneath a mighty
+weight of neatly-folded articles of winter raiment. It came out with a
+"long pull" and many a "strong pull" <!-- Page 63 -->and I got to the door with the head
+of it, while the whole length of this precious bright coating was
+dragging on the floor. But the cart had started, and when my aunt looked
+back, I was flourishing this "heppy" to see the wind fill it.</p>
+
+<p>I returned to the room, restored the article to the chest quite snugly,
+leaving one corner hanging out and that I stuffed in afterwards and
+jumped upon the cover of the trunk so that it shut. Very demurely I sat
+down before the open fire by my grandmother's easy chair, rocking
+furiously, watching my own face in the bright andirons, whose convex
+surfaces reflected first a "small Nancy" far off, then as I rocked
+forward, a large and distorted figure. My rapid motions made such rapid
+caricatures that I remained absorbed and attentive. My grandmother, not
+seeing the cause of my content, decided (as she told my mother
+afterwards), "that the child was sick, or becoming regenerated." Happy
+illusion!</p>
+
+<p>At last, my grandmother got to nodding and I sprang to my
+long-contemplated work.</p>
+
+<p>Putting a cricket into one of the best rush-bottom chairs, I climbed to
+the Clock; took off the frame glass and all, from its head, placing it
+noiselessly on the floor; opened the tall door in the body of the clock;
+drew out and unhung the pendulum&mdash;the <!-- Page 64 -->striking weight, whose string was
+broken, was made all right and put for the time being on the table. Then
+the "moon and stars" which had been fixed for a quarter of a century,
+were made to spin; the "days of the month" refused to pass in review
+without a squeak that must be remedied, so I flew into the closet to get
+some sweet oil which was goose-grease; but shutting the closet-door I
+roused my grandmother.</p>
+
+<p>I quietly went at the old rocking again, the bottle of goose-grease in
+my pocket, which I feared might melt and I should lose the material&mdash;the
+bottle was already low.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately my grandmother began napping again, and I resumed my task.
+Applying the oil with a bird's wing was a lavish process&mdash;the wheels
+moved easily; the hands became quite slippy; the moon "rose and set" to
+order; the days of the month glided thirty times a minute, and I was
+just using a pin to prove the material of the dial when my grandmother
+turned her head, at the same time reaching for her cane (the emergency
+had been foreseen and special care had I taken that the cane should not
+be forthcoming). "Nancy! Nancy! is thee crazy?"</p>
+
+<p>Thinking to strengthen this idea, I jumped into <!-- Page 65 -->the clock and held the
+door fast; but finally thinking 'twas cowardly not to face it I jumped
+out again, up into the chair, saying, "I am mending this old clock;" and
+notwithstanding her remonstrances, continued my work putting back the
+various pieces. When I was afraid of "giving out and giving up," I
+decided I would just answer her back once and say "I wont." The
+wickedness would certainly discourage her beyond a hope, and then I
+could finish.</p>
+
+<p>So I put the moon on, staring full; in putting on the hands I got, I
+thought, sufficiently worked up to venture my prepared reply to her
+repeated "get down!"</p>
+
+<p>I accordingly approached my grandmother, stopping some feet from her;
+bent my body half-over, my long red hair covering my eyes, and my head
+suiting its action to my earnestness, and in a decided rebellious tone,
+I spelled, "I <span class="sc">w-o-n-t</span>;" but accidently giving myself a turn on
+my heel I fell to the floor, with the pronunciation still unexpressed.</p>
+
+<p>I quickly rose, though I saw stars without any "two cents," and returned
+to, and finished my work. I had just put the last touch on when I heard
+the wheels. How I dreaded my aunt's appearance! As she entered the door
+I was found "demurely rocking" to the pictures in the andirons.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 66 -->My aunt thought I did not seem natural, and kissed me as being "too
+good, perhaps, to be well." My grandmother tried to speak, but I
+interrupted:</p>
+
+<p>"I must go home without my tea. I am not afraid of the dark, and I
+better go."</p>
+
+<p>This was another proof of indisposition to the aunt. I left the house,
+kissing as I thought, my grandmother into silence; but as I looked back
+I saw she could not utter a word without laughing at the aunt's anxiety,
+and so had to put off the narration till after my departure.</p>
+
+<p>I went home about as fast as possible; desired to go to bed
+immediately&mdash;never went before without being sent, and then not in a
+very good mood. My mother followed me with a talk of "herb tea," and as
+I thought I must have some "end to the farce," I agreed that a little
+might do me good. My mother consequently brought me, I do believe, a
+"Scripture measure" pint of bitter tea, which I hurriedly drank, as I
+knew my sisters had already started for my grandmother's, to see how I
+had been through the afternoon. When they returned, though I heard the
+laughing and talking in the sitting-room below, I was, to all intents
+and purposes, sound asleep and snoring.</p>
+
+<p>No allusion was ever made to my demeanor. I <!-- Page 67 -->went to school as usual, and
+told the school-girls that I had had such a good time at my aunt's the
+day before that I would never go there again "as long as I lived."</p>
+
+<p>My grandmother and aunt died long ago. For years I had no reason to
+believe that my afternoon's tragedy was known to any one. But once, not
+long since, speaking of that clock, I said, "I'm glad it did not descend
+to me;" when a friend replied, with a very knowing look, "So is your
+grandmother!"</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 68 --></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="NAUGHTY_ZAY" id="NAUGHTY_ZAY"></a>NAUGHTY ZAY.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figleft">
+<img src="images/068.jpg" alt="NAUGHTY ZAY" title="NAUGHTY ZAY" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="gap">Once upon a time there was a dear little naughty girl, not <i>bad</i>, she
+would not have been so dear had she been really bad, but just naughty
+sometimes, and I must confess "sometimes" came pretty often. She had all
+sorts of loving scolding names, such as "precious torment," "darling
+bother," and she kept her poor dear grandmother on a continuous trot to
+see what mischief she was in, and frightened her mother (who thought
+everybody <!-- Page 69 -->must want to steal Zay) by hiding behind the Missouri currant
+bush until every nook and corner had been searched; and she made her
+uncle shake his head gravely because she never could get beyond the
+first question in the Catechism, "what is your name?" and even then
+would answer <i>Zay</i>, although he had told her that "that was not her name
+at all; she had been baptized Salome; and Zay was a name she had no
+right to whatever." Nor can I begin to tell you the times I have
+exhausted all my strength putting her sturdy little self into the
+closet, and then standing first on one foot, then on the other, until I
+was ready to drop, listening at the keyhole for the first small sob of
+repentance.</p>
+
+<p>Things had gone wrong with our naughty little Zay this morning. Mary,
+the good old cook, who had been in the house years before Zay was born,
+had actually refused to let her make any more mud-pies on her kitchen
+window; and mamma and grandma had sided with the enemy.</p>
+
+<p>Zay was a little dumpling of a girl, with hard round cheeks like red
+apples, fat dimpled arms, and such wide-open eyes, and she looked very
+funny now as she drew herself up to her fullest height, which was not
+much of a height after all, brushed off her pretty blue dress, shook
+down her clean ruffled apron, and addressed us all in very solemn tones:</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 70 -->"I jes' want to tell you, I've been <i>resulted</i>, and I am never going to
+live here anymore! I'll go 'way; clear off in the woods! And then I
+guess you'll all be sorry! Mary need never make any more scrambled eggs
+for breakfast, cause" (she almost broke down at the bare thought of so
+direful a catastrophe), "cause there'll never be any chil'en to eat 'em
+anymore! And <i>then</i> I guess grandpa will be sorry when he comes home
+tired, and doesn't have his s'ippers all yeddy!"</p>
+
+<p>"O," said her mamma, gravely, "you are going right off, are you, before
+dinner?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, wight st'ait away, <i>now</i>! I'll go get my hat."</p>
+
+<p>Down stairs the quick feet pattered to the hall-closet where the little
+sun hat hung, always ready for the garden. Soon she was back, and held
+her chin up with great composure for grandma to tie the strings.</p>
+
+<p>The dear grandmother quietly laid her fine sewing down beside her on the
+sofa. "<i>Is</i> my little girl going away off by herself in the woods?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, miles and <i>mileses</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>"And what will you do when you get hungry?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, I'm going to take all my money," forthwith going to a drawer in
+the old-fashioned book-case, and taking out a diminutive porte-monnaie,
+which con<!-- Page 71 -->tained her whole fortune, three silver three-cent pieces, and
+hanging it on her fat little hand, "and I can go to some g'ocery in the
+woods, and buy lots of butter crackers."</p>
+
+<p>I, sitting in an easy chair, just recovered from a long illness,
+suggested, "But, Zay, you might want something besides crackers. I know
+a little girl who is very fond of 'drum-sticks' and 'wish-bones'!"</p>
+
+<p>"I can eat bears and wolves. I can make gravy, and," she added, "I'm
+going to take grandpa's gun wif me."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well," answered her mamma, going to grandfather's closet and
+bringing out the gun, which was twice as large as the child.</p>
+
+<p>There she stood before us&mdash;a little blue-eyed girl with a demure sun-hat
+shading a very resolute and, as yet, untroubled face, the gun held up
+tight against her with one fat dimpled hand, while from the other
+dangled the little purse.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm all yeddy now, so good-bye ev'ybody," she said at last.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye," said gentle grandma, holding up the little face to kiss the
+firm red lips. "I am afraid I shall miss my little girl to-night when I
+want the red stand drawn out for the drop light; and I'm sure grandpa
+will need his slippers."</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 72 -->Zay looked somewhat irresolute; but her mamma here spoke:</p>
+
+<p>"I think," said she, "if you intend to reach the woods before dark you
+should start at once, for it is almost two o'clock now."</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye ev'ybody," said Zay again.</p>
+
+<p>"And," said Lita, "I'll carry the gun down and open the front gate for
+you."</p>
+
+<p>Bravely the child marched out of the room, out of the front door and
+gate. There Lita handed her the gun; but after trying several times to
+walk with it, she told Lita that she didn't know as she should care for
+any wolf wish-bone with her butter crackers, and asked her to take the
+gun back in the house, and then she banged the gate, hoping Mary saw
+her, with an air of importance, and pattered off on a fast little
+dog-trot down the street.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile we were all watching her behind the blinds.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't lose sight of her," said mamma, "but don't let her see you!"</p>
+
+<p>This is what Lita saw. A sturdy little figure walking steadily onward,
+never looking back. At length it stops, opens the little purse, counts
+its money, but never noting that in the trouble with the clasps the
+three little coins fall, like three silver rain drops, to <!-- Page 73 -->the pavement.
+It goes on and on, till Lita fears it will really go out of sight. Then
+the little figure "slows up" again, opens the little purse, and stops
+short!</p>
+
+<p>Ah, the horrors of poverty! Lita understands the poor little irresolute
+figure. No money means no butter crackers, and no butter crackers means
+despair. The little steps come homeward. The blue eyes are bent on the
+ground. She does not know that grandpa has come quietly up behind her,
+and found each little silver piece.</p>
+
+<p>The little rebel appeared in the hall just as dinner was carried in.
+There was a most savory odor of fricassee. Grandma and mamma and Lita
+were just entering the dining room.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," Zay calmly announced, "I 'cluded not to go till after dinner."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that so?" quietly replied her mother. "But you might better have
+gone on. Any little girl who wants to leave a nice home because she
+can't have her own way, needn't look for any dinner here! I expected you
+to dine on butter crackers and bears."</p>
+
+<p>"I like chicken, I do," said proud little Zay with appealing eyes, but
+no tears; "and then I lost all my pennies!"</p>
+
+<p>In vain did the tender hearted grandma pull <!-- Page 74 -->mamma's dress,&mdash;mamma
+entered the dining room and shut the door; and up came poor Zay to the
+room where I awaited my dinner, for she had seen a tray borne hither.
+But she did not know that her mamma's parting injunction had been, "you
+must not give her anything! I must&mdash;indeed, I <i>wish</i> to teach my child a
+lesson."</p>
+
+<p>Little sun-hat and empty porte-monnaie put away, quietly she seated
+herself on the sofa opposite me, with two little fat feet hanging
+dangling down. Dignity kept her silent, and amusement mingled with pity
+made me so.</p>
+
+<p>This state of things lasted for some moments, while the dainties were
+diminishing from my plate. Every mouthful was wistfully watched. At
+length with grave old-fashioned face, she asked, "Are you sorry for
+beggar chil'en, Aunty?"</p>
+
+<p>"Very sorry indeed," I replied with composure.</p>
+
+<p>Then with a tremor in the voice:</p>
+
+<p>"Aunty, if you saw a little child in the street a starvin' to death for
+some bread and butter wif jelly on it, wouldn't you give her some?"</p>
+
+<p>I shook my head. Another pause, and then with little fat hands clasped,
+and voice full of sobs, poor little Zay cried out, "Oh, Aunty, if you
+saw a little girl starvin' to death for sponge cake, wouldn't you give
+her some?"</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 75 -->"How could I, Zay, if the little girl's mamma had forbidden it?"</p>
+
+<p>All her fortitude was gone. She burst into tears. She laid her head down
+on the sofa and sobbed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, oh! and they had fricasseed chicken, with Mary's nice toast under
+it; and you have sponge-cake and wine-jelly; and I haven't nuffin; there
+isn't one single butter cracker in the house!"</p>
+
+<p>At this climax of misery the house resounded with her lamentations, in
+which my tears would mingle; but fortunately the dear grand-parents soon
+appeared to comfort their darling. And so, somehow, up on grandpa's lap
+it became easier to see how naughty it was to annoy good old Mary, and
+how ungrateful it was to wish to run away from home. And pardons were
+begged and kisses were given, and the three little silver pieces crept
+back into the tiny porte-monnaie, and Zay had some of Mary's nice toast
+with lots of gravy, and a drum-stick and a wish-bone.</p>
+
+<p>Zay is a young lady now, and I presume when she reads this story she
+will pout and blush, and the more because it is every word true.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 76 --></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="THE_LEGEND_OF_THE_SALT_SEA" id="THE_LEGEND_OF_THE_SALT_SEA"></a>THE LEGEND OF THE SALT SEA.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Once upon a time there lived by the great sea two brothers, named Klaus
+and K&ouml;rg; the elder inheriting the rich estates of his ancestors; the
+younger a woodchopper, and so poor that it was ofttimes a difficult task
+for him to provide bread for his wife and little children.</p>
+
+<p>Hard as life often seems it may be even harder; and so bitterly realized
+K&ouml;rg when, nigh on to one merry Christmas-tide, an accident deprived him
+of his strong right hand, thereby cutting off forever his slender means
+of livelihood. There was but one resource, and, with crushed spirit K&ouml;rg
+betook himself to his elder brother to crave some mercy for his starving
+babes.</p>
+
+<p>Klaus was a harsh man, with love only for his yellow gold. He frowned
+impatiently when K&ouml;rg interrupted his selfish dreams, and, for answer to
+his pitiful story, threw him a loaf of bread and a pudding, bidding him
+begone and be satisfied. And K&ouml;rg went forth with a heavy heart, his
+faint hope dead.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 77 -->His homeward path followed the raging sea. The night was dark and
+stormy, the waves bellowed and lashed at the shore like an army of
+infuriated beasts; but K&ouml;rg heeded it not, only clutched his bread and
+pudding, and walked on with a white despairing face. Suddenly, as he
+emerged from a thick bit of woods, he became conscious of a strange
+light encircling him, and halting, quite terrified at the phenomenon, he
+beheld a little old man, snow-haired and bearded, standing plump in the
+path before him.</p>
+
+<p>"You seem in trouble, friend," he ejaculated, with a chuckle. "Something
+twists in your world, I trow."</p>
+
+<p>K&ouml;rg was not slow to recognize a <i>geist</i>; his knees shook, and he dared
+not utter a word. The elf looked down upon him half displeased, yet
+chuckling merrily withal.</p>
+
+<p>"You have nothing to fear from me," he continued, sweetly. "I am the
+guardian of the honest poor. This night I come to reveal to you a
+secret, which, rightly used, will bestow upon you riches, life-lasting
+and unlimited."</p>
+
+<p>K&ouml;rg, bewildered, could not yet yield simple faith. He clutched
+desperately his bread and pudding. He found no joyful words.</p>
+
+<p>The little man frowned scathingly on the gift of <!-- Page 78 -->Klaus, then burst into
+a scornful laugh.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="the_wonder_mill"></a>
+<img src="images/078.jpg" alt="THE WONDER-MILL GRINDS." title="THE WONDER-MILL GRINDS." /><br/>
+<span class="caption">THE WONDER-MILL GRINDS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"It is always thus, friend, with the money elves; they deal niggardly,
+even at the full. But, care not, since this meagre chip will prove to
+you a barter for <!-- Page 79 -->millions. Follow me! The great estates to Klaus; the
+treasures of the sea K&ouml;rg shall know, to-night!" And, with a hand-wave,
+the elf led the way over the rough cliffs, K&ouml;rg mutely following.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="the_geist"></a>
+<img src="images/079.jpg" alt="THE GEIST." title="THE GEIST." /><br/>
+<span class="caption">THE GEIST.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>He paused at the base of a hillock, shaped like a horseshoe&mdash;a spot
+which K&ouml;rg knew well&mdash;a place of rocks, reefs, and general ill-report.</p>
+
+<p>"The time is favorable," muttered the little man, <!-- Page 80 -->"my children are
+hungry, to-night." And, turning to K&ouml;rg, he continued: "Take the gift of
+Klaus and go down into the sea. A crowd will swarm upon you, as
+persistent and voracious as any in this upper world. Ask for the
+<i>wonder-mill</i>, and sacrifice your treasures only in its exchange. I will
+await you here."</p>
+
+<p>A spell immediately enwrapped the senses of K&ouml;rg. Calm and fearless, he
+descended into the deep, floating dreamily downward to the glittering
+caves from whence, exactly as the elf had depicted, swarmed forth troops
+of mermen and mermaids, with eyes and arms voraciously extended towards
+the bread and the pudding he held tightly clutched to his breast. But
+K&ouml;rg, spurred on by the elf, resisted them all, nor parted with a single
+crumb till the wonder-mill lay safe in his embrace. The little man stood
+waiting on the brink.</p>
+
+<p>"I dedicate this to the honest poor," he said, softly. "Yes, K&ouml;rg, it is
+yours. Ask of it what you will, and it shall never fail you&mdash;gold,
+silver, hundreds of loaves and puddings. But&mdash;" and here the little man
+paused, a shudder quivered through his frame, and he continued,
+solemnly&mdash;"remember, that by no hand but yours can it be controlled.
+Guard it carefully, for the day you part with it your portion shall be
+ashes, and <i>mine</i> annihilation."</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 81 -->When K&ouml;rg dared lift his eyes the elf had disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>Rahel sat at home with the children, weeping. She knew well the heart of
+her brother Klaus, and how vain would be K&ouml;rg's last effort to save them
+from starvation. A step sounded on the path without. Rahel and the babes
+stopped to listen. It was not dull and heavy as they had expected, but
+blithe as the jingle of sleigh-bells, and, in a second, K&ouml;rg burst in
+upon them, dimpling all over with merry laughter. Rahel regarded him,
+amazed.</p>
+
+<p>"You bring no bread to our starving babes, and yet you laugh," she said.
+"Oh, K&ouml;rg! K&ouml;rg! trouble has made you mad!"</p>
+
+<p>Still chuckling he slipped the wonder-mill from beneath his coat and
+said, softly:</p>
+
+<p>"Hush, Rahel! A <i>geist</i> has been with me to-night. I have brought
+endless fortune from the depths of the sea." And, plump in the eyes of
+his astonished wife, he began turning out loaves and puddings with such
+a gusto that the room was soon filled, and Rahel fain to implore him to
+cease his elfish work.</p>
+
+<p>From that night, just as the little man had said, riches unlimited came
+to the house of K&ouml;rg. No treasure too great for the mill to produce;
+and, though the woodchopper strove hard at secrecy, its fame spread far
+and wide from the mountains back <!-- Page 82 -->to the sea, and folks flocked by
+thousands to view the magic engine that K&ouml;rg had fished up from the the
+ocean's depths. And though, always good humoredly, he tested its powers
+and loaded his guests with princely gifts, yet he rested night after
+night more uneasily upon his pillow, remembering the solemn words of the
+<i>geist</i>:</p>
+
+<p>"The day you part with it your portion shall be ashes, and <i>mine</i>
+annihilation."</p>
+
+<p>One day, after the space of a year, there came to the woodchopper's door
+a captain from far-off lands.</p>
+
+<p>"I am here," he said, "to see the famous wonder-mill that blesses the
+house of K&ouml;rg."</p>
+
+<p>There was a simplicity about the old tar that completely dismantled
+K&ouml;rg. With less than ordinary caution he brought forth the mill, and
+displayed it, in all its phases, before his astonished guest.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a clever trickster," finally he quoth. "I wonder if it could
+grind so common a thing as salt."</p>
+
+<p>K&ouml;rg chuckled contemptuously, and speedily spurted right and left such a
+briny shower as made the old tar blink spasmodically and walk hurriedly
+away.</p>
+
+<p>But, alas! that night K&ouml;rg missed the mill from his side; and when, pale
+and shivering, he sought the golden treasures hid 'neath the floor, he
+found only an ashy heap, heard only the mournful words:</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 83 -->"The mermen and mermaids are dead. The <i>geists</i> have ceased to reign."</p>
+
+<p>Far out on the blue bosom of the sea the jolly captain rode, shouting
+uproariously over the treasure he had secured.</p>
+
+<p>"Precious wonder-mill," he sang, "I will try thee in all thy ways. First
+salt for savor, then ducks for food, and gold to the end of my days."
+And he started the tiny wheels, and clapped his hands frantically at its
+ready compliance to his will.</p>
+
+<p>Forth poured the sparkling, crusty grain in one buzzing maze of
+whiteness. Thick gathered the milky drifts from bow to stern. Still
+shouted the captain his savage joy till&mdash;a-sudden he paused, gazed as if
+spell-bound on the mill's mad work, with a cry of terror sprang forward
+and grasped the check. But, in vain. There was no surcease to its labor.
+Higher and higher up lifted the mighty salt banks, and, in a twinkling,
+both destroyed and destroyer sank helpless into the depths of the sea.</p>
+
+<p>And, down amid the green sea-weeds, the wonder-mill still stands,
+pouring forth salt the whole day long&mdash;no hand to check its raging; for
+the mermen and mermaids are all dead, and the <i>geists</i> have ceased to
+reign.</p>
+
+<p>And this is why the sea-water is salt.</p>
+
+
+
+<p><!-- Page 84 --></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img src="images/084.jpg" alt="Decorative motif" title="Decorative motif" />
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_MAN_WITH_THE_STRAW_HAT" id="THE_MAN_WITH_THE_STRAW_HAT"></a>THE MAN WITH THE STRAW HAT.</h2>
+
+
+<p>It is nothing strange that a man should wear a straw hat; but&mdash;well,
+listen to my story.</p>
+
+<p>One winter I was travelling near Lake Ontario, and, as the day was dark,
+I could not see every one in the car very plainly. There was a little
+old man near whose face I could but just see&mdash;for he had on a small
+black hat, and his coat collar was turned up. Soon after I noticed him
+the train stopped at the station where I was to get off. The old man and
+five or six other persons also left the train. We all stepped into a
+sleigh, and were driven several miles over the snow to a hotel.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 85 -->"It is <i>very</i> cold," said the little old man as we started.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," said one of the passengers; "but we shall not be long going."</p>
+
+<p>After a short pause, he again spoke:</p>
+
+<p>"It is certainly very cold. I am truly afraid I shall freeze before we
+get there."</p>
+
+<p>"O, no! not so very cold," said I, drawing my fur cap tightly over my
+ears.</p>
+
+<p>"I was never so cold in my life!" growled the little man. "My ears are
+freezing, now."</p>
+
+<p>"Sorry I can't help you," I said, with a feeling of true sympathy; "but
+we have not much further to go."</p>
+
+<p>Presently he growled again:</p>
+
+<p>"I know I shall freeze, anyhow. Can I take your muffler?"</p>
+
+<p>I spared my muffler. But, pretty soon, I heard from him again:</p>
+
+<p>"The top of my head is very cold, and I shall have a fearful headache."</p>
+
+<p>We soon reached the hotel and entered the office, where a warm fire
+welcomed us. The little old man undid the muffler and handed it to me.
+He then removed his hat, and I discovered <i>that it was of straw</i>, and,
+also, that he was very bald.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 86 -->My pity for the man was all gone in a moment. It could not be that he
+had no other hat, for he was dressed well enough to own twenty hats. I
+never found out what his reason was for wearing such a hat in the
+winter.</p>
+
+<p>I fell to moralizing presently; but I will not here write down my
+reflections. Suffice it to say that every day in the year I meet
+children, and grown people too, for that matter, who are "<i>wearing straw
+hats in the winter</i>," and suffering various dreadful things in
+consequence thereof. The very next time you get into trouble, before you
+grumble and fret, see if it is not because you are <i>wearing a straw hat
+in winter</i>.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img class="gap" src="images/086.jpg" alt="Decorative motif" title="Decorative motif" />
+</div>
+
+<p><!-- Page 87 --></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="RUFFLES_AND_PUFFS" id="RUFFLES_AND_PUFFS"></a>RUFFLES AND PUFFS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>She stood looking down upon her neat plaid dress with a very
+dissatisfied face.</p>
+
+<p>"Mamma," she said, "why can't I wear pretty clothes every day like Irene
+Clarke? She always has puffs and ruffles, and her aprons are trimmed
+<i>so</i> nice."</p>
+
+<p>Mamma finished buttoning the tippet and tied down the snug little hat.</p>
+
+<p>"Puffs and ruffles and dainty aprons <i>are</i> nice," she replied gently.
+"Mamma likes pretty things as well as Lou, but always in their place,
+dearie."</p>
+
+<p>But mamma's words did not help. Little Lou went out with the same
+dissatisfied face.</p>
+
+<p>"They say mammas know best," she spoke. "It's funny, though. Irene's
+mamma knows a different best from mine&mdash;O, there she is!" and Lou
+hurried <!-- Page 88 -->to meet the little city girl whose puffs and ruffles had made
+her plaid frock seem so mean.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="lou"></a>
+<img src="images/088.jpg" alt="LOU." title="LOU." /><br/>
+<span class="caption">LOU.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It chanced that Irene wore a fresh suit, one that Lou had never seen.
+Delightedly she spied the dainty robe.</p>
+
+<p>"Ain't that sweet!" she exclaimed, and feasted <!-- Page 89 -->her eyes till, suddenly
+looking down at Irene's gaiters, she caught a glimpse of a curious
+field-bug trotting along on the ground. My little lady forgot the
+ruffles, forgot everything but her desire for a closer view.</p>
+
+<p>"O, see&mdash;see!" she cried excitedly, half-running, half-crawling after
+the bug, "see this funny thing! I can't catch him! But, O my&mdash;ain't he
+cunnin'! Irene, do get down here and see!"</p>
+
+<p>Irene took a step forward, then stood still.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't," she said, "I might soil my dress."</p>
+
+<p>But Lou scarcely heard. She was absorbed in the funny bug. On she went
+trying to catch him, till finally he slipped round a tree-root and was
+seen no more.</p>
+
+<p>Back came Lou to Irene brushing the dirt from her frock.</p>
+
+<p>"It's cold standin' here," she said, "let's play tag."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't," spoke Irene again, "I might trip and soil my dress."</p>
+
+<p>Lou's eyes went up and down the dainty robe. "It isn't much of a
+tag-frock," she thought. But she was a restless maid. Between hopping
+and dancing she glanced up at the sky and exclaimed:</p>
+
+<p>"I guess it'll snow to-night. If it does, come over <!-- Page 90 -->to my house
+to-morrow and we'll get out the sled. We can take turns bein' horse, you
+know."</p>
+
+<p>But Irene shook her head.</p>
+
+<p>"I'd like to," she replied, "but mamma won't let me. I haven't a dress
+that's fit."</p>
+
+<p>Lou's face gleamed with surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"O, my!" she said, "can't you ever take a hill-ride, or build a
+snow-man, or&mdash;" but Irene looked so sober that Lou's sympathies awoke.
+"Never mind," she added, "you'll come up to your grandpa's again in the
+summer; then you'll wear <i>do-up</i> clothes, and we'll have lots of fun."</p>
+
+<p>"The <i>do-up</i> clothes are the worst," replied Irene sadly. "Mamma don't
+want <i>them</i> soiled."</p>
+
+<p>Lou looked down at her plaid frock; she thought of the plentiful
+ginghams at home. Suddenly she turned and rushed headlong back to mamma.</p>
+
+<p>"O my!" she began, "Irene Clarke can't have no fun! She ain't got no
+slide-dresses, she can't soil her <i>do-up</i> clothes, and&mdash;O my!
+mamma&mdash;it's all them ruffles and puffs! I wouldn't wear 'em for the
+world! No, I just wouldn't!"</p>
+
+<p>Mamma could but smile.</p>
+
+<p>"I am glad my little girl has changed," she said. "I feared, a while
+ago, that because she could not <!-- Page 91 -->have ruffles and puffs on her dresses
+she was going to wear them up in her face."</p>
+
+<p>The free little out-of-doors girl blushed; and then she could have
+hugged her plaid frock for very joy.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 92 --></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="SUGAR_RIVER" id="SUGAR_RIVER"></a>SUGAR RIVER.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figleft">
+<img src="images/092.jpg" alt="S" title="S" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="noind biggap">ugar River!" The little cup-bearing hand stood transfixed halfway from
+table to lip. The silver cup tilted part way over in sheer astonishment.
+Drip, drip, drip, dripped the contents down into Tot's scrap of ruffled
+and embroidered lap.</p>
+
+<p>"Bless me! Look at that child!" cried Tot's papa. And Tot was looked at
+and hustled away, and the little silver mug tried to drown itself in a
+yellow stream of sunshine flowing across the table; and, failing in
+that, tried to sparkle just as Tot's eyes had sparkled, and failed in
+that, too. For that was O, very bright&mdash;nothing was brighter than Tot's
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 93 -->"Well, Totchen," said Tot's boy-uncle Will, looking up from his book as
+something pierced his knee, as only Tot's small elbow could pierce.
+"Well, Totchen; what is it? Stories? Then <i>jump</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>O, what happy state to sit enthroned upon a big boy-uncle's knee, and
+listen, listen, listen, with eyes like the dog's in the fairy story&mdash;"as
+big as the great round tower at Copenhagen"&mdash;more or less!</p>
+
+<p>"What shall I tell you? Aladdin? Puss in Boots? Cin&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Soogar Wiver" interrupted Tot, promptly.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Soogar Wiver?</i> Why, what a little pitcher for ears! What do you know
+about Soogar Wiver?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oo said," said Tot, with decision, "that oo went fisin' in Soogar
+Wiver."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, so I did," said the boy, reflectively.</p>
+
+<p>"Is it vewy sweet?" asked Tot.</p>
+
+<p>"Sweet?" echoed the boy, taking his wicked cue and with a prolonged
+drawing in of the lips. "I should say so! Why, its bed is solid sugar,
+with as many grades of sugar grains for sand as one finds in a grocer
+shop."</p>
+
+<p>"Do wivers do to bed dus 'ike 'ittle dirls?" demanded Tot, whose young
+existence was embittered by that seemingly needless ceremony.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," said the boy, with the air of communi<!-- Page 94 -->cating much useful
+information, "it is even worse than that. They never get up at all. Only
+once in a while they get into tantrums and break loose and make every
+one scatter; for a river is one of the quickest fellows at a run you
+ever saw. And well they might be, for they are at it all the time,
+asleep or awake."</p>
+
+<p>"I sood 'ike to see Soogar Wiver," said Tot.</p>
+
+<p>"Wouldn't you!" And Will, fairly launched, tossed all conscientious
+scruples overboard, and steered boldly out into the deep waters of
+wildest imagination. "You just would! Why, as I said, the river bed is
+solid sugar. Think how nice to be able to turn over and take a gnaw at
+your bed-post when you feel hungry! The pebbles are sugar plums, the
+bigger stones are broken sugar loaves, and the rocks, why, the rocks are
+made out of rock candy, of course."</p>
+
+<p>Tot sighed, blissfully.</p>
+
+<p>"It is the jolliest place to go fishing. You just lie down on a rock,
+nibble it occasionally, chew up a few pebbles, take a bite at a stone,
+and if you are thirsty&mdash;as, of course, you would be&mdash;there is a whole
+river of <i>eau sucr&eacute;</i>&mdash;that is what the French call sweetened
+water&mdash;running right by, enough to supply all France. And, all the time,
+you are haul<!-- Page 95 -->ing up the fish just as fast as they can bite. They are a
+peculiar kind of fish, wouldn't look at a worm. Nothing short of taffy
+bait will tempt them. They look like those fishes you buy at the
+confectioners&mdash;penny apiece&mdash;very high-colored, very flat, and mostly
+tail; and, when cooked, they taste very much like them."</p>
+
+<p>Tot still gazed up into the remorseless boy's face in unblinking
+confidence. And, indeed, from one who, for the last two weeks, together
+with Tot, had been on the most familiar footing with giants, ogres, and
+hop-o-my-thumbs, and held the most sympathizing relations towards
+enchanted princesses and conquering knights, an account of a "Soogar
+Wiver," was not to be regarded as startling. As for Will's
+conscience&mdash;well, his mission with Tot was to amuse, not instruct&mdash;if
+Tot was amused the whole end and aim of his efforts was attained.</p>
+
+<p>"We tried having dories made of the same material of those candy marbles
+that nothing but time and long-enduring patience will ever make an end
+of. But the fellows had such a habit, as they floated down the stream,
+of eating up the oars, we had to give it up&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Will," said Tot's mamma, at the open door, "are <!-- Page 96 -->you ready? Run away to
+Ellen, Tot, and be a good little girl."</p>
+
+<p>Tot descended from her throne, slowly and unwillingly, and, going
+obediently away, never knew about the beautiful river fairy just then
+springing to life, like Minerva in the brain of Jove, in Will's fancy,
+purposely to make Tot's acquaintance.</p>
+
+<p>With glistening wonder in her eyes, in robe of trailing, snowy, sun-shot
+mist, with water lilies dropping from her hair, and the cave&mdash;Will could
+have provided for her such a cave, the water tinkling and trickling from
+the walls hung with silver spray, stalactites of purest barley sugar
+glittering, pillars of creamiest cream candy shimmering; and, to crown
+all and above all, the fairy would have had a daily diet of cream cakes
+and caramels.</p>
+
+<p>But, before all this splendor of material could be built up into words,
+the builder had departed, the river fairy had melted back and away into
+her native mist, and Tot never knew.</p>
+
+<p>That night, Will tossed Tot flying once more into the air, rescued once
+more his fresh collar from her crumpling embrace, kissed her once more,
+good-by this time, and was off and away on the cars to school. No more
+stories. No more fairies. No more anything. Only a wonderful river
+winding and <!-- Page 97 -->gleaming and leaping through Tot's childish
+dreams&mdash;beautiful, wonderful "Soogar Wiver," where happy Uncle Will went
+fishing, lying on the bed of rock candy.</p>
+
+<p>One morning, all in the gray and quiet, Tot had a queer dream. She
+thought some one said, with a funny little catch in the voice: "Wake up,
+little Tot, mamma's treasure," and some one held her so tightly she
+could hardly breathe. And she opened her eyes and shut them again, quite
+dazzled; but she thought she saw papa and mamma standing beside her bed,
+and the room was all on fire it was so bright to two, poor, sleepy, baby
+eyes, and papa's voice seemed to say, a great way off:</p>
+
+<p>"Poor, little, sleepy Tot."</p>
+
+<p>It was such a queer dream, but not half so queer as what followed; for,
+after a while, she woke up and went right on dreaming just the same.
+That was very strange. How could it be anything else than a dream, to be
+taken up by gaslight and dressed all in her little street coat and hat
+before breakfast, to be made to drink milk and eat when she wasn't
+hungry, to be petted and cried over and half crushed in mamma's arms, to
+be taken by papa out into the cool, clear dawning, with the sky just
+beginning to flush like a sea shell and a waking bird or two to twitter
+<!-- Page 98 -->about getting up, to be put into a coach that rolled and rumbled, to be
+put into something else that rolled and rumbled a thousand times worse;
+nothing had ever happened anything like this in any of Tot's waking
+hours before.</p>
+
+<p>After the sun had climbed up a little way into the sky, grown blue and
+bluer, Tot began to accept the situation a little, and lay very still in
+papa's arms (the fresh morning breeze tapping her cheek and lifting her
+long crimped hair with cool, gentle fingers), watching the fences
+running away like mad, the trees gliding gracefully by in long endless
+procession, little white cottages and funny little hovels, and pretty
+little villages hopping suddenly in and then as suddenly out of the
+scene, a glimpse into shady depths of woods, a glint of a blue,
+nestling, lily-pad-speckled pond, an emerald gleam of peaceful meadows,
+a sight at a snowy tethered goat, of dappled grazing cows, a roll and
+rush and roar through riven, dripping rocks.</p>
+
+<p>Papa told his little girl all about it. How little children in the town
+where Tot lived were very sick of a dangerous disease&mdash;diptheria. And
+how, coming home last evening from business and learning of several
+fresh cases, he had become alarmed for his darling and consulted mamma,
+and had succeeded in <!-- Page 99 -->frightening her so thoroughly, that she had sat up
+all night to get Tot's things ready so that she might start the very
+next morning, on the very first early morning train, to where grandmamma
+lived.</p>
+
+<p>"And, there," said papa, after they had ridden all the long forenoon,
+"there's Sugar River, Tot, where I used to fish when I was a boy!"</p>
+
+<p>"O!" cried Tot, and then, immediately, with a roll and a pitch, they
+came to a little white farmhouse and stopped again, and Tot was at
+grandmamma's.</p>
+
+<p>Tot didn't like being kissed quite so much all at a time, if it was by a
+grandmamma. The chickens, though, were fascinating, and as for some
+plushy round balls of yellow fuzz, rolling about&mdash;little ducks just
+hatched&mdash;Tot had never seen anything at all to compare with them. But
+there was a dreadful and discordant procession of big ducks that struck
+terror to Tot's soul, and it was very still and lonely when the night
+and dark crept on. The crickets and the frogs did their best, but they
+only made it stiller and lonelier; and the hills gleamed against the
+sky, and Tot missed her mamma. But yet, Tot was very sleepy, and the
+next she knew it was morning and she was at grandma's, where Uncle Will
+lived, and Uncle Will was coming pretty soon, and, <!-- Page 100 -->better than that,
+mamma was coming, too; and there was a little girl, a short distance up
+the road, whom Tot was to play with, and then there were the chickens
+and the ducks, and old Brindle and the pigs, and the pony and the hay
+cart, and&mdash;yes, it was very delightful at grandmamma's.</p>
+
+<p>Once or twice, during the next few days, Tot asked&mdash;preserving that
+singular reticence regarding her illusions, so common to children&mdash;to be
+taken to Sugar River; but grandpapa was busy haying, and grandmamma
+said:</p>
+
+<p>"Will will come pretty soon and he will take you."</p>
+
+<p>"When <i>is</i> pwetty soon!" asked Tot, in hopeless tones.</p>
+
+<p>One afternoon grandmamma gave Tot and Susie (that was the name of Tot's
+little playmate) each a fat hot jumble, and left them playing happily in
+the yard while she went back to her sewing. Susie was seven, so very
+safe company for little four-year-old Tot. After a while over ran
+Susie's brother, to summon her home to go with her mother to the
+village.</p>
+
+<p>Tot stood at the gate, looking down the long road. Sturdy maples threw
+curving, interlacing boughs across, through which the sun-light filtered
+and flickered. How cool and shady it was! Tot all at once felt the
+little sunny yard grow hot and stupid, <!-- Page 101 -->and then Susie's mamma drove out
+of the gate and down the long shady arch over the sun-flecked road. Tot
+wished she was going to the village, too. Tot wished she was going
+to&mdash;to&mdash;Sugar River.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="sugar"></a>
+<img src="images/101.jpg" alt="ON THE WAY TO SUGAR RIVER." title="ON THE WAY TO SUGAR RIVER." /><br/>
+<span class="caption">ON THE WAY TO SUGAR RIVER.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p><!-- Page 102 -->"Run in to grandmamma, little Tot," whispered the still small voice. But
+Tot never heeded. Tot was tired. Tot was hot. Tot was homesick. Tot
+would walk down the road just a few little steps. What harm? How
+delightful! How grateful the cool green shade! How alluring the long
+level stretch of road under the arching maples! Where did it lead? It
+led&mdash;O, Tot knew&mdash;it led to Sugar River.</p>
+
+<p>Step by step, a little and a little further on the tiny white figure
+glanced. A sense of happy freedom possessed the little girl. A cloud of
+golden butterflies beckoned on before. Here a dark thread of water crept
+down over the hills and splashed musically into the great stone trough.
+All the way an invisible brooklet gurgled and kept her company. Only one
+bird seemed to sing at a time&mdash;first one, then another. Wasn't it
+charming? And at the end of it all must be&mdash;Tot could see it now in
+fancy&mdash;the fluttering blue ribbon uncurling between sunny sloping
+banks&mdash;<span class="sc">Sugar River</span>&mdash;fast asleep under the summer sun, on its
+glittering bed of rock candy. O, rapture! Tot's mouth watered for its
+sugary delights.</p>
+
+<p>On and on and on, with the brook and the butterflies and the welcoming
+bird. On, till the maples <!-- Page 103 -->stopped and could go no further, and so she
+left them behind. Out into the open sun-light she came, and only the
+long, hot, and dazzling road stretched on before.</p>
+
+<p>Tot's small feet trudged on, steadily. Just a little further on&mdash;Tot was
+sure&mdash;and then&mdash;But how long the road grew, how deep the dust lay, how
+tired the little feet were getting, little feet that can trudge about
+all day long in play, yet drag so wearily over long straight roads.</p>
+
+<p>"I sood fink I would tum to Soogar Wiver pwetty soon," she sighed.</p>
+
+<p>At last she came to where some cross-roads met, and looking down one she
+saw the cool green shade again. Not maples this time, but close and
+clustering shrubbery.</p>
+
+<p>She left the brook gurgling "go-oo-oo-d-by," and the butterflies waving
+adieu with their golden wings, and went on alone. How sweet and still it
+was here! The tall grass drooped over two brown beaten paths that horses
+feet had worn, and a tender green light lay over all. But where was the
+sweet river hiding? Another meeting of cross roads. Tot looked this way,
+that. Ah, there it was over the road! Over the meadow. Gleaming,
+gliding, Sugar River, at last.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 104 -->"I fought I sood det to it pwetty soon," murmured Tot, triumphantly.
+"Won't dwandma be glad to get some nice sugar plums? I wis I tood det
+froo dis fence."</p>
+
+<p>Through she got, with much squeezing and rending. Tot eyed her torn
+pinafore, ruefully.</p>
+
+<p>"I wis' 'ittle dirl's aprons wouldn't teep tearing on every single
+fing."</p>
+
+<p>"'Pears to me," doubtfully, putting one little foot down on the soft
+marshy ground, "it is wather wet."</p>
+
+<p>Rather wet? Yes, Totchen, very wet. Too wet for such little little feet
+as yours. And see, little one, the sun is getting lower. Crawl back
+through the fence and run home. The sleepy murmuring river has nothing
+but trouble for you.</p>
+
+<p>But Tot stumbled on over the marshy ground.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't 'ike to go down so far," sighed Tot, drawing a little drenched
+boot up from a treacherous bog. "And my new boots is detting all wet."</p>
+
+<p>But Tot had a Spartan soul; and at last, beside the wonderful stream, on
+the beautiful shore she stood, and&mdash;poor, poor little Tot! The little
+pinafore torn, the pretty, trim boots soaked and soiled, all Tot's
+little body dragged and weary; yet, it isn't that that makes me say
+"poor little Tot!" It is to see her standing there at the goal of her
+childish <!-- Page 105 -->hopes with such happy, radiant eyes, and know how soon will
+come to her that "saddest pain of all&mdash;to grasp the thing we long for
+and find how it can fail us."</p>
+
+<p>Up and down she walks, searching for sweetmeat pebbles and sugary
+stones, and when she finds none&mdash;the water running high and close to the
+grassy ground&mdash;she stoops and, dipping her little fingers, she lifts
+them, wet and dripping, to her longing lips.</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't <i>vewy</i> sweet," she said.</p>
+
+<p>Poor little Tot! Down the stream she came to a ford, and the shallow
+water had left stones and pebbles bare. Big and little, and half size;
+white and yellow, and brown and gray.</p>
+
+<p>Here was richness at last. All in a minute Tot's little, nibbling,
+crunching teeth went on edge on a perverse, grating pebble that sternly
+refused to be nibbled or crunched. Another and another and another she
+tried.</p>
+
+<p>"Pwobably," she thought, "they has to be cwacked dus 'ike nuts." And she
+proceeded to crack, not the stones, but her own little, eager,
+blundering fingers, instead. O stony, stony-hearted stones and
+pebbly-hearted pebbles! Tot's cup of bitterness seemed to flow over. She
+stood up, sobbing. A sudden sense of desolation oppressed her.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 106 -->"I wis' I was at home wiv dwandma. I wis,' oh, I <i>wis'</i> I hadn't tum!"
+she sobbed.</p>
+
+<p>Her only thought, now, was to get home. But, first, what do you think
+she did? She filled her bit of a pocket full of pebbles for grandmamma
+to crack; then the little weary feet stumbled back again over the weary
+way.</p>
+
+<p>"My feet's is detting so heavy," she sighed, "and I <i>fink</i> I's detting
+tired."</p>
+
+<p>Tot was crying piteously now, and no one heard. All alone, mamma's baby,
+who had never been alone before in all her short cherished life. All
+alone with the croaking frogs and lonesome crickets. Hark! what was
+that? A roll of wheels and the clatter of a horse's hoofs.</p>
+
+<p>"Whoa!" called out a boy's shrill voice. Down to the ground dropped the
+owner of the voice. "What is the matter, little girl?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'se been to Soogar Wiver, and I don't know how to det home aden, I'se
+so vewy tired, and I toodn't cwack the candy, and I want to see
+dwandma," and Tot's words ended in a wail of inarticulate woe.</p>
+
+<p>"Where do you live?" asked the boy.</p>
+
+<p>"A dwate, dwate ways off," answered Tot.</p>
+
+<p>"What is your name?"</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 107 -->"Tot Lindsay."</p>
+
+<p>"Lindsay? O, I know! All you've got to do is to jump into this wagon and
+have a nice ride, and, presently, we'll be there."</p>
+
+<p>And presently, in the gloaming, they stopped before grandpapa's house,
+and the boy, lifting out Tot in his arms, carried her to the door and
+bade her good-by, and, jumping into his wagon, rattled away. Empty and
+silent stood the little house, like the dwelling of the Three Talking
+Bears, and little Tot might have been Silver Hair herself.</p>
+
+<p>"Dwandma, dwandma!" she called. But no grandmamma replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps she has dus dorn out a minute," thought she. "I'll det up on
+dis lounge and tover dis shawl over me, and s'prise her when she tums
+back."</p>
+
+<p>Something else besides the shawl covered Tot's eyes. Down over the blue
+orbs drifted the snowy lids. Tired little Tot.</p>
+
+<p>Where was dwandma and the rest all this time? In trouble and confusion.
+Calling and searching, searching and calling: "Tot, Tot, Tot, little
+Tot! Where are you?" Grandpapa and grandmamma, and Uncle Will and Tot's
+mamma.</p>
+
+<p>At last, on the road running beside the river, they had found the
+fragment of dotted cambric, held fast <!-- Page 108 -->by a detaining splinter; and then
+Tot's mamma had run ahead and led them across the meadow, right in the
+track of Tot's little feet, straight to the river. And then grandmamma
+had said, quaveringly, that Tot was always asking to go to Sugar River;
+and then Will's heart had given a great guilty throb, and sank way, way
+down. He knew so well <i>why</i>. And then Tot's mamma had thrown up her two
+hands, and darted towards a little string of coral beads and picked it
+up. And, as they stood there, the river's murmur seemed like the murmur
+of the river of death, and the white fog, beginning to rise, like the
+folds of a little child's shroud; and Tot's mamma threw up her hands
+again and fell among all the unfeeling stones and pebbles.</p>
+
+<p>Will ran all the way home and went straight to the barn and harnessed
+the horse, and then went into the house and into the sitting-room and
+snatched a shawl from the lounge, and&mdash;"Jerusalem Crickets!" was all he
+had breath enough left to say. Tot had surprised somebody, indeed.</p>
+
+<p>Down by the river, in the dusk and the river damp, as they waited, came
+Will, striding along with what looked like a bundle of old shawls upon
+his shoulder; and presently, parting the folds like the calyx of a
+flower, Tot's rosy face blossomed out.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 109 -->"Peekabo!" she said, with a sweet sound of laughter. "O mamma, mamma!"</p>
+
+<p>It was wonderful how quickly mamma recovered; and it was more wonderful
+still how ever Tot escaped sudden death, then and there, from
+suffocation. But, bless you! You need not worry, it was larks to Tot.</p>
+
+<p>What a triumphal procession home it was. Tot, in her little night-dress
+sat in her mother's lap, and told her adventures; and Will sat in the
+darkest corner and said not a word, but resolved that no story more
+fabulous than that of George Washington and his hatchet should ever
+again pass his lips. His lip quivered, as much as a boy's lip is ever
+allowed, when Tot said:</p>
+
+<p>"And I brought home a whole pottet full to cwack."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind, to-night. Wait till to-morrow," said mamma.</p>
+
+<p>Tot went obediently to sleep, and woke in the morning to find beside her
+pillow, such lots of candy&mdash;her Sugar River candy she thought, all
+cracked and ready to eat.</p>
+
+<p>"It tastes dus 'ike any tandy," said Tot.</p>
+
+<p>They didn't tell her then, the illusion was so dear to her childish
+heart. But, when she was a little <!-- Page 110 -->older, Tot laughed as long and as
+gleefully as anyone over the story of the little girl who went to Sugar
+River for sugar plums.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 111 --></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="A_PIONEER_WIDE_AWAKE" id="A_PIONEER_WIDE_AWAKE"></a>A PIONEER "WIDE AWAKE."</h2>
+
+
+<p>One event in the life of Jacob Lohr qualified him, in my opinion, to be
+mustered into the army of "Wide Awakes." Let me tell the children the
+incident and see if they agree with me.</p>
+
+<p>He was a native of the Mohawk Valley near Schenectady, New York, and
+when about twenty years old, with his young wife, Polly, emigrated to
+the wilds of Western Pennsylvania. This was more than seventy years ago,
+when the magnificent forests of that region afforded some of the finest
+hunting-grounds in America. Here Jacob began clearing a farm, built a
+log dwelling-house, planted corn and potatoes, and in a few years became
+a thriving pioneer.</p>
+
+<p>But the pride of his forest farm was his pigs. He had built a strong pen
+of logs, with a heavy door, <!-- Page 112 -->in order to protect them in the night from
+wild animals. It stood about five rods from the house, near the brook,
+just across which, and not thirty feet from the sty, was the edge of the
+dense natural forest.</p>
+
+<p>During the day they were permitted to roam at large in the woods eating
+nuts, by which they fattened for the larder; but when night approached,
+they were called and zealously secured in the pen, a practice which soon
+taught the pigs the habit of early retiring. Gradually, however, Mr.
+Lohr's punctuality in this matter abated, until one evening it had
+become fairly dark ere he went to shut them in. As he walked down the
+beaten path, a rustling in the adjacent bushes made him think that the
+pigs might still be out; and to satisfy himself on the point, he entered
+the pen and felt around, saying as he did so, "One two, three&mdash;all
+here." Then as he turned to the door, he wondered what caused the
+rustling across the brook. But as he stooped to go out, his wonder was
+threateningly answered by a low growl from a dark crouching object, only
+two or three steps in front of him.</p>
+
+<p>With swift hands he closed the door, shutting himself in; and none too
+soon, for instantly a heavy animal leaped on the roof over his head and
+began fiercely scratching at the cover. At the same time a <!-- Page 113 -->mewing at the
+door, and a snuffing at the side of the pen, showed him that he was a
+prisoner, with at least three panthers as his jailors. But unlike
+jailors generally, these were more eager to get their captive out than
+to keep him in; while the prisoner, instead of wishing to "break jail,"
+was anxious not to do so.</p>
+
+<p>All night long he was a "Wide Awake," as were also the pigs, for the
+panthers were growling and screaming, scratching and digging around and
+upon the pen, trying to tear it to pieces and seize the occupants.
+Although feverishly excited, he felt quite secure, because the sty was
+so substantially built.</p>
+
+<p>Yet such lodgings and neighbors, within and without, would not tend to
+produce very placid slumbers, even if the walls were cannon-proof.</p>
+
+<p>Various plans were tried by Polly, his wife, who had become aware of the
+situation, to drive away the creatures, but in vain.</p>
+
+<p>She held a torch where it shone toward the pen; she screamed through the
+narrow casement, and rattled a tin pan at the animals; but she did not
+know how to load and fire the gun; and as to going outside the door, it
+is doubtful if even the boldest hunter, well armed, would have dared so
+much at night, in the face of a whole family of hungry panthers.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 114 -->Meanwhile, Jacob kept up a lively interest among his jailors.</p>
+
+<p>Discovering that they had scratched at some of the larger cracks between
+the logs, until they could thrust in their noses, he peeled a piece of
+tough bark from the side of the pen, and began striking at them, giving
+them many stinging blows.</p>
+
+<p>And afterward, when relating the story, he would laugh heartily at
+remembering the sneezing, snarling and grumbling this occasioned.
+Although he had so much to keep him excited, the night seemed very long.</p>
+
+<p>At last, however, the daylight began to dawn, and he heard his jailors
+mewing and purring together as if in council, and then all was silent
+all around the pen.</p>
+
+<p>Half an hour later, Polly called to him that they were gone away.</p>
+
+<p>It was with extreme caution, however, that he opened the door a little
+and peered out.</p>
+
+<p>A panther is like a cat in slyness or cunning, watching stealthily for
+prey and springing upon it in the most unexpected way.</p>
+
+<p>And so, before he ventured out, he scanned with sharp eyes the edge of
+the woods across the brook; for he did not fancy being the mouse for
+these three <!-- Page 115 -->great cats. Satisfying himself as well as he could, that the
+way was clear, he sprang forth, closed the door quickly behind him, and
+rushed for the house. But no panthers appeared; they had probably
+retired into the deep shadows of the hemlocks.</p>
+
+<p>His "Wide Awake" night was ended.</p>
+
+<p>Upon investigating the scene of the night's operations, he found the sty
+amazingly scratched and gnawed in many places, proving the strength of
+tooth and nail and the ferocity of his jailors. Several long deep gashes
+on one of the pigs showed where a panther had thrust in his paw by a
+crack and tried to seize a victim.</p>
+
+<p>But my story is only half told.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 20%;' />
+
+<p>An old adage says, "It is a poor rule that won't work both ways;" and so
+thought Jacob. He resolved in the morning, that if the creatures should
+come back the next night, as they would be quite apt to do, he would
+turn the tables and try to teach them the pleasure of being imprisoned
+in a pig-sty.</p>
+
+<p>Anybody who has lived in a region infested by carnivorous animals, knows
+how they prowl around the settler's cabin the night after any fat
+animal, cattle or swine is killed, for the meat. They snuff the <!-- Page 116 -->blood
+from afar in the forest, and hasten to the place to have a tooth, or a
+paw, in the division of the spoils. Knowing this peculiarity of
+panthers, Jacob and Polly held a consultation, and as it was about time
+in the autumn to make pork of the pigs, they decided to perform that
+work during the day. The scent of blood would serve as a double
+inducement for his visitors to return.</p>
+
+<p>So, in the afternoon, the task was done, the pen and vicinity being the
+scene of the slaughter, and all the bloody tidbits placed inside the
+door. Every such thing was arranged to attract the animals into the sty
+if possible. The meat was placed safely in the garret of the house.</p>
+
+<p>The door of the pen was so constructed as to open and shut something
+like the lower sash of a window, by sliding up and down, a peg holding
+it open by day and closed by night. When the door was open, this peg had
+only to be pulled out, to let it shut down like a flash; and being shut
+no animal could open it. Jacob went along the brook and obtained a
+quantity of bark from the moosewood, (<i>Dirca palustris</i>,) of which he
+made a strong cord, long enough to reach from the pen to the house. One
+end of this he tied tightly to the peg that supported the door, and the
+other he made fast inside the house.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 117 -->When night came, he was ready for visitors.</p>
+
+<p>Stationing themselves at the window, he and Polly watched and listened.</p>
+
+<p>Hardly had it become dark, when they heard the mewing of the panthers at
+no great distance in the forest. Persons who are familiar only with the
+mewing of cats, have little idea how a panther's stronger, but similar
+voice will ring through the woods.</p>
+
+<p>In a little time they distinctly heard one of them leap upon the pen and
+begin scratching as the night before; and in a moment more, by the
+confined sound of purring and growling, it was evident they had entered
+the sty and were disputing over the morsels of meat.</p>
+
+<p>Then Jacob gave the bark cord a vigorous jerk and they heard the door
+drop.</p>
+
+<p>I suppose it would be impossible to describe the excitement of Polly and
+Jacob at this moment, but the girls and boys can imagine something of
+it.</p>
+
+<p>They did not dare to go out to see if they had caught the <i>panthers</i>,
+lest, having failed, the panthers might catch <i>them</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Before morning, however, they were sure enough that one or more was
+captured, for there was a great deal of smothered howling, just as it
+would sound from animals shut in a pen.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 118 -->Previous wakefulness made sleep necessary during most of the night, but
+at daybreak they were astir and at the casement to catch the first
+possible glimpse of the situation. As it became light enough, they
+discovered a huge, handsome panther stretched out on the roof of the
+pen, her head lying across her paws, like a cat asleep. By this they
+knew that others were confined inside, for whose escape this one was
+waiting. It was but a brief task for Jacob, who was a good marksman, to
+point his rifle through the window and give her its contents. Without a
+struggle the splendid animal straightened her powerful limbs and died.
+Reloading his gun, Jacob walked cautiously toward the pen, watching in
+every direction, lest there might be another one outside ready to spring
+upon him, but seeing none, he went up and peered through a crack.</p>
+
+<p>At once two pairs of eyes flashed at him, and fierce growls remonstrated
+against the state of affairs.</p>
+
+<p>Had Barnum flourished in those days, Jacob might have found a market for
+the animals alive, but as it was he regarded it safer to shoot them as
+quickly as possible, through a crevice between the logs.</p>
+
+<p>Upon placing the dead animals side by side near the house he discovered
+that they were mother and <!-- Page 119 -->full-grown kittens, all very large and plump,
+with thick, glossy fur.</p>
+
+<p>I have only to add, that he was paid by the state a bounty of
+twenty-four dollars apiece for killing the panthers, which was quite a
+fortune for a pioneer in those days. Their red-brown skins, sewed
+together, made a larger and nicer lap-robe than the hide of any buffalo;
+and years after, with Jacob's children, I took many a sleigh-ride under
+this warm covering.</p>
+
+<p>All in favor of numbering Jacob among the "Wide Awakes," say <i>aye</i>!</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 120 --></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="SURPRISED" id="SURPRISED"></a>SURPRISED.</h2>
+
+
+<h3>I.</h3>
+
+<p>"Mitz" began to cry piteously. "Mieu&mdash;mieu&mdash;mi-e-e," he cried, and all
+little Hannah's trotting only made him worse. At that moment "Mitz" was
+wrapped in a pillow-case, while his head was buried in Hannah's little
+shawl. His ears were pulled down, and his promising tail was all in a
+heap, and his resplendent moustache was crushed. Therefore was it a
+wonder that Mitz howled most dolefully? It is not necessary to say that
+Mitz was a kitten.</p>
+
+<p>Mitz's mother was sitting in a corner of the fire-place, with tail
+neatly curled about her paws. Three of Mitz's brothers and sisters were
+lost somewhere in the shadow about her, and two others the children had
+put to bed.</p>
+
+<p>It was a queer old room in an old German house; a room large and dim,
+with two great windows full of <!-- Page 121 -->diamond-shaped panes, and on the opposite
+side a huge chimney with a tall, narrow mantel-shelf and a tiled hearth,
+on which stood two brass griffins, shiny and ferocious. In the depths in
+the fire-place, behind the griffins, there Mitz was sobbing. I say
+sobbing because the children were playing "house," and Mitz was supposed
+to be the baby. What a fine play-house this big fire-place was in
+summer! It had in turn figured as Aladdin's cave and a school-house; a
+brigand ambush, and a dwelling with modern improvements. But now it was
+growing dark in the big, bare room, and you had to look closely into the
+back of the hearth to see the two little figures&mdash;one trotting the baby,
+and the other rocking the doll's cradle in which two of Mitz's sisters
+were tied with cord, for their good, of course. But Mitz's piteous cries
+raised echoes.</p>
+
+<p>"Mieu, mieu!" cried Mitz, trying to claw something under the pillow
+case. "Mieu, mieu!" chimed in Mitz's sisters, while little Hannah
+trotted desperately, and the doll's cradle was rocked as if by a small
+tempest.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="bread_and_milk"></a>
+<img src="images/122.jpg" alt="HE WOULDN&#39;T EAT HIS BREAD AND MILK." title="HE WOULDN&#39;T EAT HIS BREAD AND MILK." /><br/>
+<span class="caption">HE WOULDN&#39;T EAT HIS BREAD AND MILK.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"It's no use," said little Hannah, in great perplexity; "all people's
+children arn't always bad! Mitz&mdash;you wicked Mitz!" And she shook that
+badly-behaved child. "He's been crying ever since we began to <!-- Page 122 -->play. He
+wouldn't eat his bread and milk, though I tied on his best new bib. Oh,
+dear me, Mrs. Liseke, how noisy your children are! Suppose," said little
+Hannah, vainly endeavoring to pacify the indignant Mitz, "suppose, Mrs.
+Liseke, we take the children out for a walk?"</p>
+
+<p>Out of the hearth crept Hannah, with Mitz hugged <!-- Page 123 -->to her heart, and her
+short, round figure all the rounder for an ancient shawl and a venerable
+cap perched on the top of her plump, rosy face. Hannah had just passed
+the brass griffins, when some one burst into the room. There was a
+vision of two long stockings with a hole in one knee, a faded velveteen
+suit, a pair of brass-tipped boots, a bright patch in the seat of the
+short breeches, and a look of triumph on a round face with a turn-up
+nose, while a grin, extending from ear to ear, discovered a loss of
+several front teeth in the big mouth.</p>
+
+<p>"Max, how you frightened me!" cried Hannah; then, "oh, Maxy, what's the
+matter?" Mitz was forgotten; he gave a leap, shawl and pillow-case, and
+before Hannah could prevent, had crept out of his bandages and was
+standing a free cat, with arched back and a defiant tail. By this time
+Mrs. Liseke had come out of the fire-place with her two youngest in her
+arms. She was elegantly dressed in a bed-sheet, which trailed behind her
+and was gracefully tied under her chin. Mitz's mother followed,
+stretching all-fours luxuriously.</p>
+
+<p>No, Max wouldn't tell. He plunged two black hands in his breeches'
+pockets and made up faces and danced a wild war dance, while Mitz and
+family fled into various corners.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 124 -->"Why don't you slap him?" pouted Liseke.</p>
+
+<p>"No," little Hannah said, wisely. "He likes cookies." Coaxingly: "Maxy
+dear, won't you tell?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, you bet I won't! you're nothing but girls."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it a surprise, Max?" Hannah suggested, anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Won't tell yer," contemplating his brass-tipped toes.</p>
+
+<p>"Maxy, I'll give you a big cookey if you'll tell."</p>
+
+<p>"You nasty thing, I don't want a cookey."</p>
+
+<p>"Maxy: two? three&mdash;four&mdash;five&mdash;six&mdash;there! now you'll tell?"</p>
+
+<p>"Give 'em first," said this practical boy, apparently conquered.</p>
+
+<p>Six noble cookies were counted into his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Now I won't tell yer at all. It's a surprise! Father said I wasn't to
+tell," he cried, scornfully, with his mouth full.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Haneke, papa's going to surprise us! Now I know what it is!" Liseke
+whispered excitedly "It is a piano, and perhaps&mdash;perhaps a stool. Try
+and find out from Max."</p>
+
+<p>"Maxy, dear," Hannah said, imploringly, "is it covered with plush?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, how do you know?" Max cried, unguardedly, as he was finishing his
+sixth cookey.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 125 -->"I knew it, I knew it," Liseke gasped, wildly.</p>
+
+<p>"Does it make a noise if, well, say, if you bang on it?" Hannah cried,
+with a beating heart.</p>
+
+<p>"Why&mdash;why&mdash;yes," Max acknowledged, wrathfully, with a futile kick at
+Mitz's mother, who was purring about his legs. "There, you mean thing,
+you're always trying to find out something! Just you wait till I tell
+yer anything more!" he cried, and slam-banged himself out of the room,
+with his bosom full of suppressed injuries.</p>
+
+<p>"He was mad because we guessed," Liseke cried, joyfully.</p>
+
+<p>"A piano!" Hannah gasped, as the door went to with a crash.</p>
+
+<p>"A stool," Liseke added; then, "Let's tell mamma!"</p>
+
+<p>That dear, gentle mother, sitting by the dim window trying to mend by
+the last flicker of daylight! She looked up lovingly as the door flew
+open.</p>
+
+<p>"Mamma," gasped Hannah, "papa's got a surprise for us."</p>
+
+<p>"Max said so," chimed in the other. "We've guessed, mother dear."</p>
+
+<p>"It's a piano."</p>
+
+<p>"And&mdash;and a stool."</p>
+
+<!-- Page 126 -->
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="max_knows"></a>
+<a href="images/126_big.jpg"><img src="images/126_thumb.jpg" alt="MAX KNOWS OF A SURPRISE." title="MAX KNOWS OF A SURPRISE." /><br/></a>
+<span class="caption">MAX KNOWS OF A SURPRISE.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p><!-- Page 127 --><!-- Page 128 -->"He said it'ud make a noise; and was covered with plush."</p>
+
+<p>"O, dear children, surely papa wouldn't buy you a piano. He can not
+afford it," and two kind hands were stretched out to the children.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes it is," the two cried hopefully.</p>
+
+<p>"You know, mamma, papa's always promised us a surprise, and he's never
+done it yet!" Hannah cried, and laid her round cheek against the
+delicate, pale face.</p>
+
+<p>There was no use arguing; the children were convinced. They were sure of
+the piano.</p>
+
+<p>"There, mamma, didn't we tell you so," they cried, as Max came in,
+mysterious and exasperating.</p>
+
+<p>"Father says the surprise will be ready for you to-morrow afternoon at
+three o'clock in the sitting room," he cried, and was gone, leaving a
+momentary vision of a bright patch in the seat of his breeches.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor child," thought the little mother, regretfully; "he is all in
+rags&mdash;I wish I had some money!" with a patient sigh.</p>
+
+<p>"There, mamma, we told you so! It'll stand by the window in the corner
+of the sitting-room," two excited voices cried, and the next moment the
+sitting-room was invaded by two small figures who looked at the empty
+corner by the window with delicious <!-- Page 129 -->expectancy; and so the day went
+slowly by.</p>
+
+<p>In another room the little mother looked at her husband wistfully.
+"Karl," she began, timidly, "have you really prepared a surprise for the
+children? You won't disappoint them?"</p>
+
+<p>"Betty, don't say a word! Wait! Did I ever disappoint you?"</p>
+
+<p>Betty turned away with a half-suppressed sigh, while papa Karl strode up
+and down the room grandly, virtuously, with a good deal of injured
+innocence in his face.</p>
+
+
+<h3>II.</h3>
+
+<p>The great day had come. Hannah and Liseke hadn't slept a wink all night.</p>
+
+<p>Mitz and family had come purring into the room in the early morning, as
+usual, but had been shamefully neglected. All six sat in a row by the
+bedside, watching indignantly the two heads peeping out from the
+feathers.</p>
+
+<p>"To-day!" Hannah sighed rapturously.</p>
+
+<p>How they got into their clothes, they never knew.</p>
+
+<p>As for eating! why, they couldn't touch the delicious rolls, the glasses
+of milk, even that delicious preserve, "Apfel-kraut."</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 130 -->Max alone was himself, and, in his injured way, managed to eat enough
+for three. Yet, he was not satisfied; at the age of eight life had few
+attractions left for him.</p>
+
+<p>Who could believe that a September day would be so long? Or that the old
+clock in the hall would go so ridiculously slow? There was a quiet
+jocularity in the motion of its long pendulum, as if it were laughing
+bitterly that anyone could be in a hurry. "Ha! ha! ha!" ticked the
+clock.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear!" Hannah said with a sigh, "will it never be three?"</p>
+
+<p>How they kept their ears open to hear a crowd of men come stumbling up
+the stone steps with the weight of the piano!</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps it is already here," Liseke said, faintly.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps it's coming," Hannah suggested, hopefully.</p>
+
+<p>"One&mdash;two&mdash;three&mdash;," the clock struck.</p>
+
+<p>"Come, mamma!" the children cried; and so they opened the sitting-room
+door with trembling hands.</p>
+
+<p>Nobody there; nothing there. Mamma sat down in a corner and began
+knitting, while the children looked out of the window into the narrow
+street to see a wagon drive up to the house.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 131 -->"Perhaps they've forgotten all about it," Liseke was saying tremulously,
+when the sitting-room door burst open and there stood Max and behind
+him, papa Karl.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, Max, Max, where's the surprise?" the children implored.</p>
+
+<p>"Why, don't you see!" Max cried, mightily injured, and turning himself
+about disclosed his small person arrayed in a new velveteen suit
+brilliant with brass buttons.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh&mdash;dear&mdash;dear," sobbed little Hannah with the tears rolling down, "we
+thought it was a piano!'</p>
+
+<p>"Did I say it was a piano?" Max howled.</p>
+
+<p>"You said it&mdash;it&mdash;was&mdash;was&mdash;covered with pl&mdash;plush," Liseke sobbed.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, isn't it?"</p>
+
+<p>"And&mdash;and you said it 'ud make a noise if one b&mdash;banged on it," Hannah
+cried, piteously.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, see if it don't!" Max shrieked, when papa Karl's hand came down
+upon him with such superb effect there was no doubting the truth of the
+assertion.</p>
+
+<p>"Ungrateful children, you are never satisfied," papa Karl cried
+majestically. "No matter what I do for you, you're always ungrateful&mdash;"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="shamefully_neglected"></a>
+<a href="images/132_big.jpg"><img src="images/132_thumb.jpg" alt="THE SHAMEFULLY NEGLECTED SIX." title="THE SHAMEFULLY NEGLECTED SIX." /><br/></a>
+<span class="caption">THE SHAMEFULLY NEGLECTED SIX.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"But Karl," mamma Betty interrupted, with quiet decision, in the midst
+of a storm of sobs, "you can't <!-- Page 132 --><!-- Page 133 --><!-- Page 134 -->expect the children to be very much
+delighted because Max gets a new suit&mdash;something necessary."</p>
+
+<p>"And it's so tight I can't breathe," Max cried, goaded to frenzy by the
+general grief.</p>
+
+<p>"Ingrates!" gasped papa Karl, and strode up and down the room, while
+Liseke sobbed her grief out on mamma's shoulder, and Max hid his face in
+her lap, and Hannah was bravely trying to dry her brown eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Karl, they are children," mamma Betty said: softly patting Max's head;
+then lifting it up gently; "Max, go to the confectioners." Max sprang to
+his feet as a war-horse at the sound of a trumpet.</p>
+
+<p>"Here are ten groschens;"&mdash;mamma Betty took them out of her scanty purse
+with something of a sigh;&mdash;"buy as much cake and whatever you like.
+Liseke tell Marie to make a pitcher of chocolate instantly. My little
+Hannah, you may set the table."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, mamma, may I put on the pretty china cups and saucers?" Hannah
+pleaded, as Max and Liseke bounded out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but be careful, my dear."</p>
+
+<p>"Chocolate!" said papa Karl with some scorn, "bribing them for the sake
+of peace."</p>
+
+<p>They were children, she said. Had papa Karl forgotten that he, too, had
+once been a child?</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 135 -->Papa Karl had forgotten this trifling circumstance but he magnanimously
+declared he forgave them all.</p>
+
+<p>There was a pattering of feet down the entry, and three tear-stained
+faces looked timidly in.</p>
+
+<p>"The chocolate is on the table," Hannah said bravely, with only one tiny
+sob. Then the door closed and the little feet patted down the corridor.</p>
+
+<p>"Come Karl, and drink a cup of chocolate. You need it as much as the
+children, for you were disappointed also. You thought to give them a
+pleasure, you mistaken man," mamma Betty said with a little smile.</p>
+
+<p>"I really meant to," said Karl, quite softened.</p>
+
+<p>Mamma Betty was just opening the door, when she suddenly paused.</p>
+
+<p>"Karl," she said quite seriously, "will you promise me one thing?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my dear."</p>
+
+<p>"Never surprise us again; surprises always end in disappointments."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Betty I promise," papa Karl said hurriedly, and he kept his word.
+So years after, when papa Karl's purse was a good deal fuller, and a
+piano did make its appearance, it was welcomed solemnly, as something
+long and rapturously expected.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 136 --></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="APRIL_FOOLS_AND_OTHER_FOOLS" id="APRIL_FOOLS_AND_OTHER_FOOLS"></a>APRIL FOOLS AND OTHER FOOLS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="figleft">
+<img src="images/136.jpg" alt="T" title="T" />
+</div>
+
+<p class="noind biggap">he custom of playing a joke upon one's neighbor upon the First of April
+is of very ancient origin, dating so far back in the past that we are
+unable to tell just when or with what nation it had its birth.</p>
+
+<p>There was a time, very many years ago, when the year began on the
+twenty-fifth of March. Then, as now, New Years' was a great feast of the
+Church; and as the First of April was what was termed the <i>octave</i>&mdash;that
+is, the eighth day after the commencement of the feast&mdash;it has been
+thought that the feast which terminated upon that day closed in
+April-fooling. In support of this theory we find that the Catholic
+Church, at one time in its early history, observed an annual feast
+called "The Feast of the Ass." The day upon <!-- Page 137 -->which this feast was held
+answers to our sixth of January, which now is called "Twelfth-Day." The
+day was devoted to merry-making, masquerading, jesting, and to fun in
+general.</p>
+
+<p>Among the Hindoos there is a feast which is still observed, called the
+"Huli," which, continuing several days, terminates on the thirty-first
+of March. One of the distinctive features of this feast is, that every
+one endeavors to send his neighbor upon some errand to some imaginary
+person, or to persons whom he knows are not at home; and then all enjoy
+a good laugh at the disappointment of the messenger. The observance of
+this custom by this peculiar people seems to indicate that it had a very
+early origin among mankind. In fact, it is not impossible that the
+manner in which the day is observed by us may have been suggested by
+some pagan custom. But whatever or whenever its origin may have been, we
+find it so widely prevalent over the earth, and with so very near a
+coincidence of day, as to be proof of its great antiquity.</p>
+
+<div class="pictop">
+<img src="images/138_upper.jpg" alt="Decorative Illustration" title="Decorative Illustration" /></div>
+<div class="pictop">
+<img src="images/138_up.jpg" alt="Decorative Illustration" title="Decorative Illustration" /></div>
+<div class="picbottom">
+<img src="images/138_bottom.jpg" alt="Decorative Illustration" title="Decorative Illustration" /></div>
+
+<p>The observance of April Fools' Day is a very popular one in France, and
+we find traces of it there at a much earlier period than we do in
+England. It is related that Francis, Duke of Lorraine, and his wife,
+having been confined at Nantes as prisoners, <!-- Page 138 -->successfully made their
+escape on the First of April. Taking advantage of this day, when they
+knew the guards would be upon the lookout lest some joke should be
+played upon them, they disguised themselves as peasants, the Duke
+carrying a hod upon his shoulder, and his wife bearing a basket of
+rubbish upon her back. Thus disguised, they passed through the gates of
+the city at an early hour of the day. There was one person, however, who
+guessed their secret. This was a woman who was an enemy of the Duke and
+his wife, and she at once resolved that they should not thus escape. She
+therefore hastened to one of the guards and told him of the escape of
+the prisoners. But the soldier only regarded it as an attempt to play a
+joke upon him, and at once cried out "April Fool!" to let the woman know
+that he had not forgotten what day it was. Hearing the soldier call out
+this, the rest of the guard, led by their sergeant, shouted "April
+Fool!" until the woman was forced to retire without being able to
+accomplish her errand. When at last it was learned that she had told
+them the truth, it was too late, the Duke and his wife having made good
+their escape.</p>
+
+<p><!-- Page 139 -->In France, the person who is April-fooled is called <i>poisson d'Avril</i>.
+Upon a certain occasion a French lady stole a watch from a friend on the
+First of April. The theft having been discovered, and the lady accused
+of having taken the watch, she endeavored to pass off the affair as <i>un
+poisson d'Avril</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Having denied that the watch was in her possession, her rooms were
+searched, and the missing article found upon a chimney-piece. When shown
+the watch the thief coolly replied: "Yes; I think I have made the
+messenger a fine <i>poisson d'Avril</i>."</p>
+
+<div class="figright">
+<img src="images/139.jpg" alt="Decorative Illustration" title="Decorative Illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p>However, the magistrate ordered that she be confined in prison until the
+First of April following, "<i>comme un poisson d' Avril</i>."</p>
+
+<p>In England, the custom of April-fooling is practiced very much as it is
+in the United States. "A knowing boy will despatch a younger brother to
+see a public statue descend from its pedestal at a particular appointed
+hour. A crew of giggling servant-maids will get hold of some simple
+swain, and send him to a bookseller's shop for the 'History of Eve's
+<!-- Page 140 -->Grandmother,' or to a chemist's for a pennyworth of 'pigeon's milk,' or
+to the cobbler's for a little '<i>strap</i>-oil,' in which last case the
+messenger secures a hearty application of the strap to his shoulders,
+and is sent home in a state of bewilderment as to what the affair means. The
+urchins in the street make a sport of calling to some passing beau to
+look to his coat-skirts; when he either finds them with a <!-- Page 141 -->piece of paper
+pinned to them or not; in either of which cases he is saluted as an
+'April-fool!'"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="first_of_april"></a>
+<img src="images/140.jpg" alt="FIRST OF APRIL DANGER." title="FIRST OF APRIL DANGER." /><br/>
+<span class="caption">FIRST OF APRIL DANGER.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It has been said that "what compound is to simple addition, so is Scotch
+to English April-fooling." The people living in Scotland are not content
+with making a neighbor believe some single piece of absurdity, but
+practice jokes upon him <i>ad infinitum</i>. Having found some unsuspecting
+person, the individual playing the joke sends him away with a letter to
+some friend residing two or three miles off, for the professed purpose
+of asking for some useful information, or requesting a loan of some
+article, while in reality the letter contains only the words:</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"This is the first day of April,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hunt the gowk another mile."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The person to whom the letter is sent at once catches the idea of the
+person sending it, and informs the carrier with a very grave face that
+he is unable to grant his friend the favor asked, but if he will take a
+second note to Mr. So-and-so, he will get what was wanted. The obliging,
+yet unsuspecting carrier receives the note, and trudges off to the
+person designated, only to be treated by him in the same manner; and so
+he goes from one to another, until some one, taking pity on him, gives
+him a gentle hint of the trick that has been practiced upon him. A
+<!-- Page 142 -->successful affair of this kind will furnish great amusement to an entire
+neighborhood for a week at a time, during which time the person who has
+been victimized can hardly show his face. The Scotch employ the term
+"gowk" to express a fool in general, but more especially an April fool;
+and among them the practice which we have described is called "hunting
+the gowk."</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes the First of April has been employed by persons wishing to
+perpetrate an extensive joke upon society. Among those which have come
+to our knowledge the most remarkable one occurred in the city of London
+in 1860. Towards the close of March a large number of persons received
+through the post-office a card upon which the following was printed:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p class="center">"TOWER OF LONDON.</p>
+
+<p class="center sc">admit the bearer and friend</p>
+
+<p class="center">to view the</p>
+
+<p class="center sc">annual ceremony of washing the white lions,</p>
+
+<p class="center">on</p>
+
+<p class="center sc">Sunday, April 1st, 1860.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><i>Admitted only at the White Gate.</i></p>
+
+<hr class="center" style='width: 20%;' />
+
+<p>It is particularly requested that no gratuities be given to the
+wardens or their assistants."</p></div>
+
+<p><!-- Page 143 -->To give the card an official appearance, there was a seal placed at one
+corner of it, marked by an inverted sixpence. There were but few persons
+receiving the cards who saw through the trick, and hence it was highly
+successful. As soon as the first streaks of gray were seen in the east,
+cabs began to rattle about Tower Hill, and continued to do so all that
+Sunday morning, vainly endeavoring to discover the "White Gate," the
+joke being that there was no such gate.</p>
+
+<p>In the United States the greater part of the attention which is paid to
+April Fools' Day comes from children. In cities, especially, it is made
+much of by the "street Arabs," who watch every opportunity to play some
+trick upon every countryman whom they chance to see. Although we may
+laugh at jokes which are played upon All-Fools' Day, yet the greater
+part of them are unjust and improper, and it would be much better were
+they left undone.</p>
+
+<p>While speaking of April fools we are reminded of the Wise Fools of
+Gotham, and are constrained to tell our young readers about them in this
+connection. Gotham is a village in Nottinghamshire, in England. At one
+time, when King John and his retinue were marching towards the village,
+the people learned that he intended to pass through Gotham meadow. Now
+<!-- Page 144 -->the ground over which a king passed became forever after a public
+highway, and should they suffer the king to pass through their meadow
+the villagers saw that they would lose it.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="drowning_eel"></a>
+<img src="images/143.jpg" alt="DROWNING THE EEL." title="DROWNING THE EEL." /><br/>
+<span class="caption">DROWNING THE EEL.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>This they resolved not to do, and therefore devised a plan which caused
+the king to pass another way. When the king learned what had been done
+he was <!-- Page 145 -->very angry, and at once sent messengers to inquire why they had
+been so rude, intending, no doubt, to punish them for what they had
+done. When the Gothamites learned of the approach of the messengers they
+were as anxious to escape punishment as they had been to save their
+meadow. They immediately came together and agreed upon a plan by which
+to save themselves. They at once set about carrying their plans into
+effect, and when the king's messengers arrived they found some of the
+inhabitants endeavoring to drown an eel in a pond; some dragging their
+carts and wagons to the top of a barn to shade the wood from the sun's
+rays; some tumbling cheeses down a hill in the expectation that they
+would find their way to Nottingham Market, and some were employed in
+hedging in a cuckoo which had perched upon an old bush. Seeing men
+engaged in such employments as these the king's servants were convinced
+that the villagers were all fools, and quite unworthy the king's notice.
+The villagers, however, seeing that they had outwitted the king,
+considered themselves wise. To the present day a "cuckoo bush" stands
+upon the spot where it is said that the inhabitants of Gotham endeavored
+to hedge in the bird.</p>
+
+<p>There is another class of Fools which deserve <!-- Page 146 -->mention. These are called
+Court Fools or Jesters. Until within a comparatively short time ago,
+every king had his Jester, whose duty it was to furnish mirth and merriment
+for the royal household. The real Court Fool was in reality a fool by
+birth, while a Jester was a <i>pretended</i> fool. The former was dressed in
+"a parti-colored dress, including a cowl, which ended in a cock's-head,
+and was winged with a couple <!-- Page 147 -->of long ears; he, moreover, carried in his
+hand a stick called his bauble, terminating either in an inflated
+bladder or some other ludicrous object, to be employed in slapping
+inadvertent neighbors."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<a name="saving_shingles"></a>
+<img src="images/145.jpg" alt="SAVING THE SHINGLES." title="SAVING THE SHINGLES." /><br/>
+<span class="caption">SAVING THE SHINGLES.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>On the other hand, the Jester selected his clothes not only with a view
+to their grotesqueness but also with an eye to their richness. While the
+real fool "haunted the kitchen and scullery, messing almost with the
+dogs, and liable, when malapert, to a whipping," the pretended fool was
+comparatively a companion to the sovereign who engaged his services.
+Berdic, the Jester of the Court of William the Conqueror, for instance,
+was considered of so great importance that three towns and five
+carucates were conferred upon him.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter">
+<img class="biggap" src="images/146.jpg" alt="Decorative Illustration" title="Decorative Illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
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@@ -0,0 +1,3510 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, Connor Magan's Luck and Other Stories, by M.
+T. W.
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: Connor Magan's Luck and Other Stories
+       Connor Magan's Luck; Why Mammy Delphy's Baby Was Named Grief; Sammy Sealskin's Enemy; Nannette's Live Baby; Brothers For Sale; A Story of a Clock; Naughty Zay; The Legend of the Salt Sea; The Man with the Straw Hat; Ruffles and Puffs; Sugar River; A Pioneer "Wide Awake"; Surprised; April Fools and Other Fools
+
+
+Author: M. T. W.
+
+
+
+Release Date: August 21, 2005  [eBook #16576]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONNOR MAGAN'S LUCK AND OTHER
+STORIES***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Bill Tozier, Barbara Tozier, Pilar Somoza, and the
+Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
+(https://www.pgdp.net/)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 16576-h.htm or 16576-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/5/7/16576/16576-h/16576-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/5/7/16576/16576-h.zip)
+
+      The Table of Contents was not in the original edition.
+
+
+
+
+
+CONNOR MAGAN'S LUCK
+
+And Other Stories
+
+by
+
+M.T.W.
+
+Boston:
+D. Lothrop & Company,
+Franklin St., Corner of Hawley.
+
+1881
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: CONNOR DREAMS A DAY-DREAM.]
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+   Connor Magan's Luck
+   Why Mammy Delphy's Baby Was Named Grief
+   Sammy Sealskin's Enemy
+   Nannette's Live Baby
+   Brothers For Sale
+   A Story of a Clock
+   Naughty Zay
+   The Legend of the Salt Sea
+   The Man with the Straw Hat
+   Ruffles and Puffs
+   Sugar River
+   A Pioneer "Wide Awake"
+   Surprised
+   April Fools and Other Fools
+
+
+
+
+CONNOR MAGAN'S LUCK.
+
+
+[Illustration: "CONNOR."]
+
+
+"I'm in luck, hurrah!" cried Connor Magan, as he threw up his brimless
+hat into the air--the ringing, jubilant shout he sent after it could
+only spring from the reservoir of glee in the heart of a twelve-year-old
+boy. Giving a push to the skiff in which his father sat waiting for him,
+he jumped from the shore to the boat, and struck out into the Ohio
+river.
+
+Tim Magan, father, and Connor Magan, son, were central figures in a very
+strange picture.
+
+Let us take in the situation.
+
+It was a Western spring freshet. The Ohio was on a rampage--a turbulent,
+coffee-colored stream, it had risen far beyond its usual boundaries,
+washed out the familiar land-marks, and, still insolent and greedy, was
+licking the banks, as if preparatory to swallowing up the whole country.
+Trees torn up by the roots, their green branches waving high above the
+flood, timbers from cottages, and wrecks of bridges, were floating down
+to the Gulf of Mexico.
+
+It was curious to watch the various things in the water as they sailed
+slowly along. Demijohns bobbed about. Empty store boxes mockingly
+labelled _dry goods_ elbowed bales of hay. Sometimes a weak
+cock-a-doodle-doo from a travelling chicken-coop announced the
+whereabouts of a helpless though still irrepressible rooster. Back yards
+had been visited, and oyster-cans, ash-barrels and unsightly kitchen
+debris brought to light. It was a mighty revolution where the dregs of
+society were no longer suppressed, but sailed in state on the top wave.
+
+"It is an idle wind which blows no one good," and amid the general
+destruction the drift-wood was a God-send to the poor people, and they
+caught enough to supply them with fire-wood for months. Logs, fences,
+boards and the contents of steamboat woodyards were swept into the
+current. On high points of land near the shore were collected piles
+bristling with ragged stumps and limbs of trees. The great gnarled
+branches of forest trees sometimes spread over half the river, while
+timbers lodging among them formed a sort of raft which kept out of the
+water the most wonderful things--pieces of furniture, and kitchen
+utensils which shone in the sun like silver.
+
+Cullum's Ripple is a few miles below Cincinnati. Here the deep current
+sets close to the shore, making a wild kind of whirlpool or eddy that
+brings drift-wood almost to land; the rippling water makes a sudden turn
+and scoops out a little cove in the sand. It is a splendid place for
+fishermen, but quite dangerous for boats.
+
+Not far above Cullum's Ripple is situated the Magan family mansion, or
+shanty. The river is on one side, and two parallel railroads are on the
+other. On the top of the bank, and on a level with the railroads, is a
+piece of land not much longer or wider than a rope-walk, and on this
+only available scrap the Railroad Company have built a few temporary
+houses for their workmen. They are all alike, except that a
+morning-glory grows over Magan's door.
+
+The colony is called Twinrip possibly the short of "Between Strip." (If
+the name does not mean that, will some one skilled in digging up
+language roots, please tell me what it does mean?) The atmosphere around
+these cabins is as filled with bustling, whistling confusion as a
+chimney with smoke.
+
+Besides the water highway, on the other side, just a few feet beyond the
+iron roads, a horse-car track and a turnpike offer additional facilities
+for locomotion. Birds perch on the numerous telegraph wires amid wrecks
+of kites and dingy pennons--once kite-tails--nothing hurts them; and
+below the children of Twinrip appear just as free and safe, and seem to
+have as much delight in mere living as their feathered friends.
+
+The Magans were a light-hearted Irish family, whose cheerfulness seemed
+better than eucalyptus or sunflowers to keep off the fever and ague, and
+who made the most of the little bits of sunshine that came to them. Tim,
+a strong-armed laborer, was brakeman on the Road. His wife, a hopeful
+little body, a woman of expedients, was voted by her neighbors the
+"cheeriest, condolingest" woman in Twinrip.
+
+Good luck, according to her, was always coming to the Magans. It was
+good luck brought them to America--by good luck Tim became brakeman. It
+was good luck that the school for Connor was free of expense, and so
+convenient.
+
+Her loyalty to her husband rather modified the expression of her views,
+yet she often expatiated to her eldest on his advantages, beginning,
+"There's your father, Connor--I hope you'll be as good a man! remember
+it wasn't the fashion in the ould country to bother over the little
+black letters--people don't _have_ to read there--but you just mind your
+books, and some day you may come to be a conductor, and snap a punch of
+your own."
+
+No doubt Connor made good resolutions, but when he sat by the window in
+the school-room and looked at the dimpling, sparkling river, so
+suggestive of fishing, or at the green trees filled with birds, he was
+not as devoted to literature as a free-born expectant American citizen
+ought to be. The teacher was somewhat strict, and it may have been in
+some of her passes with Connor, the "bubblingoverest" of all her
+youngsters, that she earned the name of a "daisy lammer."
+
+But the boy knew some things by heart that could not be learned at
+school. To his ear, the steam whistle of each boat spoke its name as
+plainly as if it could talk. He need not look to tell whether a passing
+train was on the O. & M. or on the I.C. & L. He knew the name of every
+fiery engine, and felt an admiration--a real friendship for the
+resistless creatures.
+
+To climb a tree was as easy for him as if he were a cat; there were
+rumors that he had worked himself to the top of the tall
+flag-staff--which was as smooth as a greased pole--but I will not vouch
+for their truth. He could swim like a duck, and paddled about on a board
+in the river till an ill-natured flat-boatman often snarled out that
+"that youngster would certain be drowned, if he wasn't born to be
+hanged."
+
+But the delight of Connor's life was to "catch the first wave" from a
+big steamer. Dennis Maloney was his comrade in this perilous game. They
+rowed their egg-shell of a boat close to the wheel. Drenched with
+spray--for a moment they felt the wild excitement of danger. Four alert
+eyes, four steady hands kept them from being sucked under--then came the
+triumph of meeting the first wave that left the steamboat, and the
+extatic rocking motion of the skiff as she rode the other waves in the
+wake--but to catch the first was the point in the frolic! Connor was
+known to many of the pilots as an adept in "catching the first wave."
+Sometimes he was "tipped" by an unlooked for motion of the machinery,
+but was as certain as an india-rubber ball to rise to the surface, and
+a swim to shore was but fun to the young Magan.
+
+In the house, Mother Maggie was happy when little Mike was tied in his
+chair, and a bar put in the doorway to keep him from crawling into the
+attractive water, if he should break loose; and when the door was bolted
+on the railroad side, he was allowed to gaze through the window at the
+engines smoking and thundering by all day, and fixing each blazing red
+eye on him at night--an entrancing spectacle to the child. And when the
+still younger Pat was tucked up in bed sucking a moist rag, with sugar
+tied up in it, her world was all right, and at rest.
+
+But it would have taken a person of considerable penetration, or as
+Maggie said one who knew all "the ins and the outs" to see the peculiar
+good luck of _this_ day. The water was swashing round within a few feet
+of the door. Some of the workmen had moved their beds to the space
+between the tracks, which was piled up with kitchen utensils, and looked
+like a second-hand store.
+
+In these days of devotion to antiques, we hear dealers in such wares say
+that things are more valuable for being carefully used. This would not
+apply to Twinrip's relics. The poor shabby furniture looked more than
+ever dilapidated in the open daylight. The social air of a home that was
+lived in, pervaded this temporary baggage-room between the tracks. One
+child was asleep in a cradle, others were eating their coarse food off a
+board. When a sprinkling of rain fell, an old grandmother under an
+umbrella fastened to a bed-post went on knitting, serenely.
+
+Youngsters who needed rubbers and waterproofs about as much as did
+Newfoundland dogs, enjoyed the fun. One four-year old, sitting on a tub
+turned upside down, was waving a small flag, a relic of the Fourth of
+July--and looking as happy and independent as a king.
+
+It took all his wife's hopeful eloquence to comfort Tim. There was no
+water in Tim's cellar, because he had no cellar. The cow, their most
+valuable piece of property, was taken beyond the tracks up on the
+hillside, and fastened to a stake in a deserted vineyard. If the worst
+came to the worst, and they were drowned out of house and home, their
+neighbors were no better off, and they would all be lively together.
+That was the way Maggie put it.
+
+
+[Illustration: INDEPENDENT AS A KING.]
+
+
+"Do you moind, Tim," she said, "when Keely O'Burke trated his new wife
+to a ride on a hand-car? Soon as your eyes lighted on him you shouted
+like a house-a-fire, 'Number Five will be down in three minutes!'
+Didn't Keely clane lose his head? But between you, you pushed the car
+off the track in a jiffy. And Mrs. O'Burke's new bonnet was all smashed
+in the ditch, an' the bloody snort of Number Five knocked you senseless.
+Who would have thought that boost of the cow-catcher was jist clear good
+luck? And you moped about with a short draw in your chist, and seemed
+bound to be a grouty old man in the chimney corner that could niver
+lift a stroke for your childer, ah' you didn't see the good luck, you
+know, Tim--but when the prisident sent the bran new cow with a card tied
+to one horn, an' Connor read it when he came home from school: '_For Tim
+Magan, who saved the train. Good luck to him!_'--wasn't it all right
+then? Now you are as good as new, and our mocley is quiet as a lamb, and
+if I was Queen Victoria hersel, she couldn't give any sweeter milk for
+me. She's the born beauty."
+
+Well, Connor was his mother's own boy for making the most and the best
+of everything, and _he_ saw several items of good luck this day.
+
+First: The river had risen so near the school-house that the desks and
+benches were moved up between the tracks and the school dismissed;
+therefore there was perfect freedom to enjoy the excitement of the
+occasion. It was as good as a move or a fire.
+
+Second: There was so much danger that the track might be undermined that
+all trains were stopped by order of the Railroad Company; therefore his
+father was at liberty.
+
+Third, and best of all: Larry O'Flaherty, who lived up Bald Face Creek,
+had lent him his skiff for the day. The boys had had an extatic time the
+evening before, hauling in drift-wood. Though the coal-barges had
+bright red lights at their bows, and the steamboats were ablaze with
+green and red signals, and blew their gruff whistles continually, yet it
+was hardly safe to go far from the shore at night because the Ripple was
+so near. When the river was _rising_ the drift was driven close to land,
+while _falling_ it floated near the middle of the river. Connor could
+see the flood was still rising, and there were possibilities of a
+splendid catch, for it was daylight, and they could go where they
+pleased with Larry's boat.
+
+Father and son pushed out into the river. Connor felt as if he owned the
+world. Short sticks and staves were put in the bottom of the boat. Both
+fishermen had a long pole with a sharp iron hook at the end with which,
+when they came close to a log, they harpooned it. Bringing it near, they
+drove a nail into one end, and tying a rope round the nail, they
+fastened their prize to the stern of the boat. They took turns rowing
+and spearing drift-wood; and when the log-fleet swimming after them
+became large, they went to shore and secured it.
+
+When the dripping logs were long and heavy, it was the custom to fasten
+them with the rope close to a stake in the bank, and leave them
+floating. At low water they were left high and dry on the sand.
+
+No other drift-wood gatherers meddled with such logs. They were
+considered as much private property as if already burning on the hearth.
+
+"I'm going up the hill to feed the cow, Connor," said his father, after
+a great deal of wood of every size and shape had been landed. "Mind what
+you are about, and take care of Larry's gim of a boat. It was mighty
+neighborly to lind it for the whole day. See now, how much drift you can
+pick up by yourself."
+
+Connor felt the responsibility, and worked diligently. He had twice
+taken a load to shore, and was quite far again in the stream, when he
+saw a strange sight. It was not Moses in the bulrushes, to be sure--but
+a child in a wicker wagon, floating down the current amid a lot of
+sticks and branches. The hoarse whistle of a steamboat near meant
+danger; and to the eye of Connor the baby-craft seemed but a little
+above the water, and to be slowly sinking.
+
+Connor's shout rang back from the Kentucky hills as if it came from the
+throat of an engine.
+
+No one answered.
+
+There were great logs between his skiff and the child--logs and child
+were all moving together. Should he abandon Larry's precious boat?
+
+Connor could not consider this. He plunged into the water and swam round
+the logs. He never knew how he did it--he never knew how he cut his
+hand--he never felt the pounding of the logs--he only knew that he
+caught the wagon, kept those black eyes above the water, and pulled the
+precious freight to shore. Then, while the water was streaming from him
+in every direction, he sprang up the few steps to his mother's cabin,
+and without a word placed the child, still in the wagon, inside the
+door!
+
+Running back as swiftly as his feet would carry him, Connor had the good
+luck to find the deserted boat close to shore, jammed in a mass of
+drift-wood, just in the turn of the Riffle.
+
+Dragging it up and along the shore, he fastened it to a fisherman's
+stake just by Twinrip. Then Connor felt he had discharged his
+duty--Larry O'Flaherty's boat was safe--high and dry out of reach of
+eddying logs.
+
+Now, eager, dripping, and breathless--with eyes like stars, he flew home
+again.
+
+"Oh, mother," he said, "she's fast to the post and not a hole knocked
+into her, and ain't her eyes black and soft as our mooley cow's and I
+found her before the General Little ran her down--and I'm going to keep
+her always--_I found her_--isn't it lucky we have a cow?"
+
+What the boy said was rather mixed--you could not parse it, but you
+could understand it.
+
+The baby's big black eyes looked around, and she acknowledged a cup of
+milk and her deliverer by a smile. It was a strange group. In the midst
+of a puddle of water Mother Maggie was leaning over the new comer and
+trying to untie the numerous knots in a shawl which had kept the child
+in her wicker nest. Little Mike was staring open-eyed at the beads round
+baby's neck, and at the coral horseshoe which hung from them. The pretty
+little girl seemed quite contented, and with the happy unconsciousness
+of infancy was evidently quite at home.
+
+"Poor baby, where did she come from?" said Mother Maggie. "Won't her
+mother cry her eyes out when she can't see her? We must advertise her in
+one of those big city papers."
+
+"I found her," said Connor, "she's mine."
+
+"Why, my boy," said his mother, "she's not a squirrel--you can't keep
+her as you did the bunny you found in the hickory tree, and not ask any
+questions!"
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+"I wish there were no newspapers, and that people couldn't read
+besides," wrathfully exclaimed Connor.
+
+"Maybe," he added, with hopeful cheerfulness, "both her father and
+mother are drowned. May I keep her then? She may have half of my bread
+and milk."
+
+Babies were no great rarity in Twinrip, but never was there such a
+happy, bright-eyed little maiden as this waif proved to be. Among the
+children she glowed like a dandelion in the grass, and reigned like a
+queen among her subjects.
+
+Connor was the scholar of the family, and at length his conscience was
+sufficiently roused to make him indite an advertisement which did him
+much credit. He hoped it might be placed in some obscure corner of the
+paper where it would be overlooked.
+
+But next day, in a conspicuous part of the _Cincinnati Commercial_, with
+four little hands pointing to it, appeared this rather unusual notice:
+
+     "_Found in the Ohio river a baby in white dress with black eyes and
+     red horseshoe round her neck, now belonging to Connor Magan. If the
+     father and mother are not drowned they can enquire at the house of
+     Tim Magan in Twinrip, where all is convenient for her with a cow
+     given by the President. None others need apply._"
+
+It was but the very next day after the "ad" appeared that a wagon drove
+down to Twinrip, with the father and mother of the baby.
+
+Didn't they cry and kiss and hug the lost, the found child! They lived
+on a farm in Palestine, a few miles up the river. A little stream ran
+into the Ohio close by their door, and the baby was often tied in her
+carriage and placed on the bridge under the charge of a faithful dog. It
+was a great amusement for her to watch the ducks and geese in the water.
+A sudden rise swept bridge and all away. Search had been made
+everywhere, but nothing had been heard of little Minnie. It had seemed
+like a return from death to read Connor's advertisement.
+
+And was not the brave lad that saved their child a hero! Again and again
+they made him tell all about the rescue. Of course they had to take
+their daughter home, but they made Connor promise to visit them at
+Palestine.
+
+Soon after the happy parents left, a watch came by express to the Magan
+homestead, and when Connor opened the hunting-case cover, after changing
+its position till he could see something besides his own twisted face
+reflected in it, and after wiping away the spray that would come into
+his eyes, he read:
+
+                    _CONNOR MAGAN._
+     _From the grateful parents of MINNIE RIVERS._
+
+Was not her name a prophecy?
+
+At the sill of the Magan homestead the flood had stopped, hesitated, and
+then gone back. Maggie always said she knew it would--they always had
+good luck. The little woman was happier than ever when she thought of
+the whole train of people that _might_ have been thrown into the
+ditch--of the cut-off legs, arms and heads, and the poor creatures
+without them that _might_ have been cast bleeding on the track, if it
+had not been for her faithful old Tim--and of the home with niver a
+baby, and of the darlint that would have been drowned in the bottom of
+the Ohio with her ears and eyes full of mud, if it had not been for her
+slip of a boy.
+
+As for Connor, he felt as if that bright-eyed girl belonged to him, and
+now that he had a watch towards it, he seemed almost a ready-made
+Conductor.
+
+When the waters subsided and he went back to school, he studied with a
+will. His percentage grew higher.
+
+"Sometime," he said to himself, "I will go to Palestine. I _will_ be
+_somebody_--maybe a Conductor! And a beautiful young woman with soft
+black eyes will wave her handkerchief to me as I pass by in my train!
+And after I make a lot of money"--how full the world is of money that
+young people are so sure of getting--"after I make this money I will
+bring Minnie back with me! And she will live in my house with me! And
+she will say, 'Conor I am so glad you fished me out of the Ohio with
+your drift-wood!' And won't _that_ be good luck for Connor Magan!"
+
+
+
+
+WHY MAMMY DELPHY'S BABY WAS NAMED GRIEF.
+
+
+Mammy Delphy was sitting out under the vines that climbed over the
+kitchen gallery, picking a chicken for dinner, and singing. And such
+singing! Some of the words ran this way:
+
+    "Aldo you sees me go 'long _so_,
+    I has my trials here below,
+    Sometimes I'se up, sometimes I'se down,
+    Sometimes I'se lebel wid de groun;
+              Oh, git out, Satan
+              Halla_lu_!"
+
+And these words sound queer to you as you read them, perhaps, but they
+did not sound queer when Mammy Delphy was singing them. I don't believe
+that a song out of heaven could be sweeter than this and other songs
+like it that dear old Mammy sings, with her turbaned head bobbing up
+and down and her foot softly keeping time to the melody. There is a sort
+of plaintive--what shall I call it?--_twist_ in her voice that makes you
+choke up about the throat, if you are a boy, and sob right out if you
+are a girl. And it makes you, somehow, remember, in hearing it, all the
+sweet, sad little stories that your mother has told you about your
+little baby sister who died before you were born; or, if you have stood
+in a darkened room, holding fast to some tender and loving hand, and
+looked at a face that was dear to you lying upon its coffin pillow, you
+think of that strange and sad time. And with these thoughts come, as you
+listen, other thoughts of flying angels and shining crowns, and
+wide-opened gates of pearl. A sweetness mixed with pain--that is, the
+feeling which Mammy Delphy's singing brings to you, though you could not
+describe it, perhaps, if you tried--at least that's the feeling it
+brings to me.
+
+    "I'll take my shoes from off'n my feet,
+    And walk into de golden street,
+              Glory, Halla_lu_!"
+
+sang Mammy. Sam and Jim and Joe came filing in. They had been--well,
+where _hadn't_ they been! They had been down to the Bayou, which ran a
+good quarter of a mile back of the place, "fishin for cat," and
+chunking at an unwary rabbit that had taken refuge in a hollow tree;
+they had been out in the field, cutting open two or three half-grown
+watermelons to see if they were ripe; they had been across the prairie
+to a _mott_ of sweet-gum trees, where they had stuck up the cuffs and
+bosoms of their shirts with gum and torn their trousers in climbing a
+persimmon tree to peep into a bird's-nest. And they were rushing across
+the yard in chase of a horned-frog when they caught sight of Mammy
+Delphy under the kitchen shed.
+
+"Let's go and get Mammy Delphy to give us some meat and go a
+crawfishin', boys," suggested Sam.
+
+"And I'm hungry, for one," added Joe.
+
+Accordingly they filed in, as I said, and stood for a moment listening
+to Mammy Delphy's song.
+
+"Give us somethin' to eat, Mammy, please," said Jim.
+
+"An' some craw-fish bait and a piece of string," put in the other two in
+a breath.
+
+"I ain't a gwine to do it, chillun," replied Mammy Delphy, giving them a
+gentle push with her elbow, for they were leaning coaxingly against her
+shoulders, "I ain't a gwine to _do_ it. Yer ma's got comp'ny for dinner
+and dat sassy Marthy-Ann done tuk herself to 'Mancipation-Day, an' Jin,
+she totin of Mis' May's baby to sleep, an' I ain't got _no_ time to
+_wase_ on yer. _Go_'long!" And as she spoke Mammy arose, chicken in
+hand, and went into the kitchen to get whatever the boys wanted, as they
+were perfectly aware she would, from the beginning.
+
+"Lawd o' mussy! Jest look at dat lazy nigger! Grief!" she exclaimed as
+she entered, "Grief, yer lazy good-for-nuthin' nigger, is yer gwine ter
+let dem sweet-taters burn clar up?"
+
+And seizing the collar of a negro man who sat nodding by the stove, she
+gave him a sound shaking. He opened his eyes, grinned and got up slowly,
+looking a little sheepish as he did so. At that moment the woolly head
+of Jin, the baby's little black nurse, was poked in at the door.
+
+"Daddy," she cried, "Miss May say as how she want you to come an' tie up
+her Malcasum rose, whar dem boys is done pull down."
+
+And Jin bestowed a withering look upon the culprits, who were already
+digging their fingers into the remnants of a meat-pie, and disappeared,
+followed by her father.
+
+"Mammy Delphy," said Joe, when they were out under the vines again and
+Mammy had recommenced her work, "what made you name Uncle Grief,
+_Grief_? That's a mighty funny name, _ain't_ it, boys?"
+
+"Well, chillun," said Mammy, plucking away at the chicken, "dat's so; it
+_is_ a curus name like; me'n de ole man--he dead an' gone, chillun, long
+fo' you was born;--me'n de ole man 'sulted long time 'bout dat chile's
+name an' he war goin' on six months old fo' we name him at all."
+
+"Well, how _did_ you happen to call him Grief?" insisted Joe.
+
+"Yes, honey, yes. 'Twar a long time ago, chile, when Mas' Will--dat's
+_yer_ pa (she nodded towards Joe) war a little fellow, heap littler'n
+you, heap littler, an' Mas' Charley--dat's _yer_ pappy (to the other
+two) war a baby. I war nussen _him_ long o' Grief an' Grief warn't name
+yet. Miss May--dat's yer all's Gramma whar died las' year--she use to
+come out to de back steps an' watch dem two babies nussen', Grief an'
+Mas' Charley bof at de same time in my lap; an' Mas' Will an'
+Jerry--dat's my little boy what war jes' 'bout his age--a-playing in de
+back-yard, an' sometime she laugh an' cry all at de same time an' she
+say: 'We is all one fam'ly, Delphy!' she say. Law's, chillun, dem _was_
+times! _You_ don't know nuthin' 'bout dem times. Disher house was full
+up all de time wid comp'ny; gran' comp'ny, what dress all de time in
+silk an' go walkin' 'bout under de trees an' ridin' 'bout over de
+prairie in de day time; and mos' every night dey call my ole man in to
+play de fiddle an' den, laws, how dem young folks dance! An' ole Mas'
+an' ole Mis' an' all de young ladies an gentlemen use to come down to de
+cabins--_dey_ was all burnt up, time o' de war--an' sakes, honey! de
+hosses an' de cayages an' de niggers an' disher big plantation, all
+shinin' wid corn an' cotton! Dem _was_ times!" And Mammy's old eyes
+lighted up as she went back to her youth and the glory of her family,
+for she still speaks with pride of her "fam'ly."
+
+"But Grief, Mammy?" said Jim.
+
+"Yes, honey, yes. Yer pappy and Grief war babies, an' Grief warn't
+named, an' Mas' Will an' Jerry was little boys, littler'n you. 'N one
+day Miss May, she come to the back do' an' call me. I was sittin' in
+disher very place dat day, nussin dem two babies, an' my mammy (she de
+cook), gittin' dinner in de kitchen. 'Delphy,' Miss May say, 'Delphy,
+does you know whar Will an' Jerry is? Dey ain't been seen sence
+breakfast dis mornin'.
+
+
+[Illustration: "YER PAPPY AN' GRIEF WAR BABIES, AN' GRIEF WARN'T
+NAMED."]
+
+
+"I felt curus-like dat minit, an' I jump up an' run all over de place
+lookin' for dem boys. 'Rectly all de house gals an' everybody--Mas' and
+Mis' an' everybody--commence to hunt for dem chillun. We look
+everywhere--in de hay-top, in de cotton gin-house, out on de
+prairie--_everywhere_. Den I saw Miss May--dat's yer granma, turn
+white-like, an' she say, 'Oh Delphy, oh James'--dat's yer grandpa--'de
+ole well in de field! de ole well in de field!'
+
+"Over in de bayou-field--it done full up now, ole Mas' had a well dug to
+water de hosses out in. It war kivered up wid some bodes.
+
+"I don't 'zactly 'member 'bout goin' over to de field, but when I got
+dar wid dem two babies in my arms an' stood 'long side o' Miss May--"
+
+Mammy Delphy spoke more and more slowly. She had stopped picking the
+chicken, and great tears were rolling down her cheeks. The boys stood
+stricken and silent.
+
+--"Stood 'long side o' Miss May, fus thing I hear war Jerry sayin'
+weak-like an' way down in de well: 'Don't you cry, Mas' Will! Hol' on to
+my neck, Mas' Will! Hol' tight, Mas' Will! I kin hol' you up. Don't you
+be feerd Mas' Will, I kin hol' you up! Don't you be feerd Mas' Will; I
+kin hol' you up!'
+
+"Ole Mas' lean over de well an' look in. Mas' Will he warn't as high as
+Jerry, an' Jerry he war standin in de water up to his neck an' hol'in'
+Mas' Will up out'n de water. An' dem chillun had been in dat well all
+day, honey, 'all day, an' my Jerry holdin Mas' Will out'n de water; an'
+dat water col' as ice! Den ole Mas' let down de rope dey fotch an' tole
+Mas' Will to ketch hol'. An Mas' Will--dat yer pappy, honey--he say,
+weak-like, 'Take Jerry too, pappy, take Jerry too!'
+
+"'We'll get Jerry next time,' says ole Mas'. An' Jerry help Mas' Will fix
+de rope roun' him an' dey pull him up out'n de water. He done fainted
+when dey got him out, an' he tuk de fever, an' dat chile war sick mos'
+six months, an' all de time he had de fever, he say: 'Take Jerry too,
+pappy, take Jerry too!' And when he come to hisself, he say right off:
+
+"'Where's Jerry? I want Jerry.'"
+
+Mammy Delphy stopped.
+
+"And where _was_ Jerry, mammy?" cried the boys, breathless.
+
+"'Where war Jerry?' Ole Mas' let down de rope an' say right loud: 'Ketch
+holt, Jerry my boy!' But Jerry couldn't ketch holt, chillen. Jerry war
+dead."
+
+"_Oh mammy!_"
+
+"Yes, chillun, yes. Dey rub him an' rub him, an' do everything to fotch
+him to life. But, my Jerry war dead. An' when me'n de ole man come home
+from de funeral--dey buried him in de white folks' buryin'-groun,' long
+side o' Miss May's little gal what died--an' put a tombstone at de
+head--when we come home from de funeral dat night, de ole man look at
+de baby on my lap an' he say, 'Delphy, honey,' he say, 'I think disher
+baby mout be name _Grief_.' An' we name him Grief."
+
+Mammy Delphy wiped her eyes and resumed her work. Then, looking up to
+the blue sky which shone between the vines, she began singing again:
+
+    "Call me in de mornin' Lord,
+    Or call me in de night,
+    I'se always ready Lord,
+             Glory Halla_lu_!"
+
+And the boys, subdued and silent, and for a moment forgetful of
+horned-frogs and crawfish, went away softly, as if leaving a grave.
+
+
+
+
+SAMMY SEALSKIN'S ENEMY.
+
+
+"Where going, Sammy Sealskin?".
+
+"Down to my kayah, Tommy Fishscales."
+
+"Is there any fish to-day?"
+
+"A few, they say, but there is lots of seals--plenty of 'em on the rocks
+in the bay."
+
+"All right; bring home something to your friend, Tommy."
+
+Sammy pushed off his kayah from shore. It was a funny sort of boat,
+according to our notions. It was only nine inches deep, and about a foot
+and a half wide in the middle, tapering to a point at either end and
+curving upward. It was about sixteen feet long. Its frame was of very
+light wood, and this was covered with tanned seal-skin. Sammy's mother
+was a Greenlander, and she could sew on seal-skin very handily, using
+sinews for thread; and she had covered her little boy's boat with
+seal-skin, leaving a hole in the centre just large enough to receive
+Sammy.
+
+When he had dropped into his place, he then laced the lower border of
+his jacket to the rim of the hole, and there he was all snug--not a drop
+of water could get in. Grasping his single oar, about six feet long,
+with a paddle at either end, and flourishing it in the water right and
+left, away swept the young fisherman.
+
+"I should think his craft would be top-heavy, and over he would go,"
+says some reader.
+
+One naturally would think his craft would be top-heavy and over he would
+go, as the kayah has no keel and carries no ballast, and if we should
+try a kayah, it would certainly be on land. But those Greenlanders learn
+to handle themselves so well that their kayahs will go dancing over the
+big billows and then fly through a ragged, dangerous surf. From their
+kayahs, too, they will fight the fierce white bear.
+
+Ah! Sammy, what is the matter?
+
+"Ugh-h-h-h!"
+
+Sammy gives a melancholy groan. He begins to suspect that his boat is
+leaking.
+
+_Could_ any one have slit the seal-skin bottom?
+
+The kayah is really settling.
+
+Sammy feels troubled. "I _must_ go home," he says.
+
+He turns his back upon the bright, beautiful sea, tufted with cakes of
+ice that seem in the distance like the white, pure lilies on a glassy
+pond, and paddles off home with good-by to the fishing, good-by to the
+black-headed seals, good-by to the low islands with their gulls and
+mollimucks and burgomeisters and tern and kittiwakes and
+eider-ducks--good-by to the long day's fun!
+
+"It makes me feel like a mad whale," said Sammy, "to be cheated out of
+my fishing. I wonder who cut my kayah!"
+
+Just then he looked off to the shore, and there stood Billy Blubber, an
+ancient enemy.
+
+"There's the fellow," said Sammy. "He slit my kayah, I know. If I had
+him, I'd eat him quicker than a tern's egg. Just see how he looks!"
+
+Billy did look exasperating. He saw everything and he enjoyed
+everything. Plainly he was the miscreant. He was waddling round on his
+stout little legs, flourishing a huge jack-knife, and grinning as if he
+were going to have a big dish of whale-fat for dinner. He looked comical
+enough. He was dressed in seal-skin, and was bobbing up and down in his
+mother's seal-skin boots. The women's boots are of tanned seal-skin,
+bleached white and then colored. The boots of Billy's mother were very
+gay. They were bright red ones. When Billy from his tent-door saw Sammy
+coming, he crawled into the huge big boots, and bare-headed rushed--no,
+waddled out, to greet the discomfited fisherman.
+
+"Billy, I'll give it to you?"
+
+"Will you, Sammy? Try it, old boy."
+
+Thereupon, he put his thumb to his nose and wriggled his finger as
+exasperatingly as any Yankee boy here in this enlightened land. His flat
+face, his black little eyes, his stubby little nose, his hair black as
+coal and long behind, but fashionably "banged" in front, the seal-skin
+suit, mother's big red boots, and the nasal gesture made a very
+interesting picture, and a most provoking one also.
+
+"Billy, you _will_ catch it!"
+
+"I should rather think you had caught it already. Did you bring any
+seal-fat, Sammy?"
+
+Sammy felt mad enough and hot enough to set the water to boiling between
+his kayah and the shore.
+
+"You had better run, Billy."
+
+"Plenty of time, Sammy."
+
+Sammy's kayah was now ashore. Sammy unlaced his jacket and let himself
+out of jail. Pulling his kayah high up the shore, he turned it over and
+let the water escape. There were two ugly gashes in the seal-skin
+bottom--just as he expected.
+
+"Now where's that Billy?" asked Sammy at last. But mother's red boots
+had prudently withdrawn.
+
+"I _will_ give it to him," said Sammy; "but I will mend this first."
+
+He took up his beloved kayah and walked to the little village. It was
+not very large. There were half a dozen seal-skin tents, a few houses of
+stone and turf, and one or two wooden buildings, besides the
+government-house that proudly supported the flag of Denmark.
+
+"What do you want, Sammy?" said his mother, as he appeared at the door
+of one of the seal-skin tents. She was sitting on a bed of reindeer
+skins.
+
+"I want needle and thread, mother. That Billy Blubber cut some holes in
+my kayah."
+
+"Billy Blubber did?"
+
+"Yes," said Sammy, "and I would like to sew him up in a seal-skin and
+drop him from the top of an iceberg into the sea."
+
+"Tut, tut, Sammy. It's a boy's trick. Let it go."
+
+"There," thought Sammy, shouldering his kayah and moving off, "that is
+what mother always says when Billy harms me."
+
+"Where are you going, Sammy?"
+
+"Off to mend my kayah, mother."
+
+"Nonsense! Only women can mend kayahs. I will fix it. You go off and
+take a walk, and then come to dinner. We are going to have a young
+seal."
+
+A seal! Wasn't that nice? Who wouldn't be a young Greenlander, own a
+kayah, and have seal for dinner? The prospect before Sammy made him feel
+better. The world, too, looked different.
+
+"What a nice place we live in!" thought Sammy. "I wouldn't live in
+Denmark for anything, old Denmark, where our rulers come from."
+
+The scenery about the Greenland village was indeed interesting. There
+was the blue sea before it, dotted with "pond-lilies." Off the mouth of
+the harbor, the icebergs went sailing by, so white, so stately, so slow,
+like a fleet almost becalmed. Back of the village swelled the rocky
+cliffs bare of snow now, and many rivulets went flashing down their
+sides from ponds and pools nestling in granite recesses. Away off,
+towered the mountains, their still snowy tops suggesting the powdered
+heads of grand old Titans sitting there in state.
+
+"Who wouldn't live in Greenland?" thought Sammy, entirely forgetting the
+long, cold, dark winter.
+
+However, it was summer then. He went back of his mother's seal-skin
+tent. There he could see a beautiful valley in the shadow of the
+cliffs. Moss and grasses thickly carpeted it. Little brooks went
+sparkling through it. There were flowers in bloom, poppies of gold,
+dandelions and buttercups, saxifrages of purple, white and yellow. "And
+trees were there?" asks a reader. Do you see that shrub just before
+Sammy? That is the nearest thing to a tree. It is pine. If the fat for
+cooking the dinner should give out, young Miss Seal may be warmed up by
+the help of this giant pine. As a rule, we are inclined to think that
+Sammy takes his seal same as folks who like "oysters on the shell"--raw.
+
+"Ky-ey! Ky-ey!"
+
+"My!" exclaimed Sammy. "What is that noise? It must be a dog
+somewhere--hurt!"
+
+Sammy started to the rescue.
+
+"Ky-ey! Ky-ey!"
+
+"It must be a dog," declared Sammy, and he expected to see one of those
+large Greenland dogs, wolf-like, with sharp, pointed nose, and ears held
+up stiff as if to catch every sound of danger in their dangerous
+travels.
+
+Sammy rushed up a little hill before him, and rushed in such a hurry
+that he did not think how steep the other side was. He lost his balance,
+and over he went, head down, seal-skin boots up, turning over like a
+cart-wheel.
+
+"Ky-ey! Ky-ey! Ah, Sammy! Ky-ey! Ky-ey! Catch him!"
+
+It was that old enemy, Billy Blubber, ky-eying in part, and laughing
+also as if he would split. He only expected to get Sammy to the top of
+the hill and there tell him he was fooled.
+
+"This though is better than a sea-lion hunt," thought Billy, and he
+roared again and shook till he threatened to come in pieces like a
+barrel when the hoops are off.
+
+"I will catch you and pay you," said Sammy.
+
+"Try it," defiantly shouted Billy, wearing now his own boots, having
+dropped his mother's red casings.
+
+Off went Billy. Right ahead, was a great gray ledge. There was a crack
+in the ledge big enough for a boy's foot. Billy was the boy to have his
+foot caught in it! He tried to pull it out, but the sudden wrench was
+not good for his foot, and there he stood yelling--he was ky-eying now
+in good earnest.
+
+"I have a great mind," thought Sammy, "to let you stay there. I wonder
+how you would like to stay and have a duck come along and nip off your
+nose."
+
+It would have been a nice little nip, for Billy's nose was quite plump.
+It looked like a fat plum stuck on to the side of a pumpkin.
+
+Well, how long should Sammy have kept him there?
+
+"Till the sun went down," says some one.
+
+The idea! Why, the sun in summer goes round and round and round, never
+setting through June and July. Then the sun begins to dip below the
+horizon, going lower and lower, till at last it disappears. For one
+hundred and twenty-six days Sammy and Billy did not see the sun. Through
+that long, dark night, the stars would shine, so white and solemn, down
+upon the ice and snow everywhere stretching. Until the last of July
+would have been a long time for plum-nosed Billy to stand with his foot
+in that crack. Suddenly, Sammy heard a noise. "What is that?" he asked.
+
+It was a walrus bellowing in the bay. Sammy turned toward the blue
+water. As he turned, he saw the minister standing near his chapel. Sammy
+thought of the text he preached from, the Sunday before, and he began to
+repeat it to himself:
+
+"_Love your enemies_--"
+
+"I guess I will let Billy stay here about an hour," said Sammy,
+meditating.
+
+"_Bless them that curse you_--"
+
+"I guess I will let Billy stay here half an hour."
+
+"_Do good to them that hate you_--"
+
+"I guess I will let Billy stay here ten minutes."
+
+"_And pray for them which despitefully use you_--"
+
+"I guess I will take Billy out now!" And Sammy ran towards the prisoner.
+
+"Billy, are you hurt?"
+
+Billy turned his head away, ashamed to speak.
+
+"Let me take your foot out."
+
+Billy's foot was about as fat as a bear's in July, and it came hard. He
+shook his head. His tongue stuck to his mouth like a clam to his shell,
+and moved not. Neither could he step.
+
+"I will take you on my back, Billy!" said Sammy.
+
+And that's the way they went home. Billy in his dress generally looked
+like a seal standing on his hind flippers, and Sammy resembled one
+also--nevertheless it was a pleasant sight.
+
+
+
+
+NANNETTE'S LIVE BABY.
+
+
+A good many years ago, in the city of Philadelphia, lived a little girl,
+named Nannette.
+
+One summer afternoon her mother went to pay a short visit to her aunt,
+who lived near by, and gave her little girl permission to amuse herself
+on the front door-steps until her return. So Nannette, in a clean pink
+frock and white apron, playing and chatting with her big, wax "Didy,"
+which was her doll's name, formed a pretty picture to the passers-by,
+some of whom walked slowly, in order to hear the child's talk to her
+doll.
+
+"You'se a big, old girl," she went on, smoothing out Didy's petticoats,
+"and I've had you for ever and ever, and I'se mos' six. But you grow no
+bigger. You never, never cry, you don't. You'se a stupid old thing, and
+I'm _tired_ of _you_, I am! I b'leve you'se only a _make b'leve_ baby,
+and I want a _real_, _live_ baby, I do--a baby that will cry! Now don't
+you see," and she gave the doll's head a whack--"that you don't cry? If
+anybody should hit _me_ so, I'd squeam _m-u-r-d-e-r_, I would! And then
+the p'lissman would come, and there would be an _awful_ time. There, now
+sit up, can't you? Your back is like a broken stick. Oh, hum, I'm tired
+of _you_, Didy."
+
+Leaving the doll leaning in a one-sided way against the door, Nannette
+posed her dimpled chin in her hands, and sat quietly looking into the
+street. Presently a woman came along with a bundle in her arms, and
+seeing Nannette and "Didy" in the doorway, went up the steps and asked
+the little girl if she would not like to have a real little _live_ baby.
+
+"One that will _cry_?" eagerly asked Nannette.
+
+"Yes, one that will cry, and laugh, too, after a bit," answered the
+woman, all the time looking keenly about her; and then in a hushed voice
+she asked the child if her mother was at home.
+
+"No--she's gone to see my auntie, shall I call her?" replied Nannette,
+jumping to her feet, and clapping her hands, from a feeling as if in
+some way she was to have her long-wished-for _live_ baby.
+
+"No; don't call her; and if you want a baby that will _cry_, you must be
+very quiet, and listen to me. Mark me now--have you a quarter of a
+dollar, to pay for a baby?"
+
+"I guess so," answered Nannette; "I've a lot of money up stairs." And
+running up to her room, she climbed into a chair, took down her money
+box from a shelf, and emptying all her pennies and small silver coin
+into her apron, ran down again.
+
+"This is as much as a quarter of a dollar, isn't it?"
+
+The woman saw at a glance that there was more than that amount, and
+hastily taking poor little Nannette's carefully hoarded pennies, she
+whispered:
+
+"Now carry the baby up-stairs and keep it in your own little bed. Be
+careful to make no noise, for it is sound asleep. Don't tell anybody you
+have it, until it cries. Mind that. When you hear it cry, you may know
+it is hungry."
+
+Then the woman went hurriedly away, and Nannette never saw her again.
+
+Nannette's little heart was nearly breaking with delight at the thought
+of having a real, live baby; and holding the bundle fast in her arms,
+where the woman had placed it, she began trudging up-stairs with it.
+Finally puffing and panting, her cheeks all aglow, she reached her
+little bed, and turning down the covers, she put in the bundle and
+covering it up carefully, she gave it some loving little pats, saying
+softly, "_My_ baby, my real, little live baby that will _cry_!" And then
+she carefully tripped out of the room and down-stairs again.
+
+Very soon Nannette's mother came home, bringing her a fine large apple,
+which drove all thoughts of the baby from her mind, and it was only when
+night came, and she was seated at the supper-table with her papa and
+mamma that she remembered her baby; but at that time, suddenly, from
+somewhere that surely was in the house, came a baby's cry; and clapping
+her hands, her eyes dancing with joy, Nannette began to slide down from
+her chair, saying with great emphasis, "That's _my_ baby."
+
+Her mother laughed. "_Your_ baby, Nannette?"
+
+"Yes, mamma, _my_ baby; don't you hear it _cry_? 'Tis _hungry!_" And she
+started to run up-stairs, but her mother called her back.
+
+"Why, Nannette, what ails you? What do you mean about _your_ baby?" she
+asked in surprise.
+
+"Why MY BABY, mamma! I bought it for a quarter of a dollar! a baby that
+_cries_--not a mis'ble make b'leve baby. Oh, how it _does_ cry! it must
+be _awful_ hungry!" And away she darted up the stairs.
+
+Her father and mother arose from their seats in perfect amazement, and
+followed their little girl to her room, where, lying upon her bed, was
+a bundle from which came a baby's cries. Nannette's mother began to
+unfasten the wrappings, and sure enough there was a wee little girl not
+more than two or three weeks old looking up at them with two great wet
+eyes.
+
+Of course Nannette was questioned, and she related all she could
+remember of her talk with the woman from whom she bought the baby. Her
+papa said perhaps the baby had been stolen, and that something had been
+given to it to make it sleep.
+
+"But what shall we do with it?" asked both the father and mother. "_Do_
+with it?" cried Nannette. "Why, it is _my_ baby, mamma! I paid all my
+money for it. It _cries_, it does! I will keep it always."
+
+So it was decided, that the baby should stay, if nobody came to claim
+it, which nobody ever did, although Nannette's papa put an advertisement
+in a newspaper about it.
+
+It would take a larger book than this one in which to tell all of
+Nannette's experiences in taking care of "_my_ baby," as she called the
+little girl, whom she afterward named Victoria, in honor of the then
+young queen of England.
+
+Victoria is now a woman, and she lives, as does Nannette, in the city of
+Philadelphia. She has a little girl of her own, "mos' six" who is named
+Nannette for the good little "sister-mother," who once upon a time
+bought her mamma of a strange woman for a quarter of a dollar, as she
+thought. And this other little Nannette never tires of hearing the
+romantic story of the indolent "Didy" and the "real little live baby
+that will _cry_."
+
+
+
+
+BROTHERS FOR SALE.
+
+
+Molly was six years old; a plump, roly-poly little girl with long,
+crimpy golden hair and great blue eyes. She had ever so many brothers;
+Fred, a year older than herself, and who went to the Kindergarten with
+her, was her favorite. Molly was very fond of swinging on the front-yard
+gate; a forbidden pleasure, by the way. This is the preface to my story
+about Molly.
+
+One windy, sunny day the little girl was "riding to Boston" on the front
+gate; she had swung out and let the wind blow her back again a half
+dozen times, and she was happy as a captain on the high seas, enjoying
+the swaying, dizzy motion.
+
+Every little girl--and many a boy--has swung on a gate, standing tip-toe
+on the lower bar, leaning the chin on the upper bar; and as the gate
+swayed outward, watched the brick pavement rush under foot like a swift
+stream, all the time dreaming she was a steamboat.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+In some such position, with some such thoughts. I suppose, was our Molly
+when a strange cry reached her ears.
+
+"Brothers for sale? Brothers for sale? Got any brothers for sale?"
+
+"Dot a plenty," said Molly as the gate swung plump against the oddest
+great man.
+
+He was very tall, wore a huge fur cap, and great coat that reached from
+his chin to his ankles. The pockets were evidently so full that they
+bulged out on all sides, and his red belt was stuck full of every odd
+toy imaginable.
+
+He had besides, an enormous pack on his back.
+
+Molly's eyes, always wholly devoted to the business of seeing, observed
+all this.
+
+But she only remarked, "What makes your face so _rusty_?"
+
+Perhaps he didn't hear her; anyway he repeated his cry, "Brothers for
+sale? Got any brothers for sale?" and was moving on when Molly's piping
+voice screamed after him, "Tell yer _yes_; dot a plenty!"
+
+This time he stood still.
+
+"Dot one, two, free--many's _ten_ I fink. Tommy, he's naughty, calls my
+rag dolly a meal-bag--I'll sell him. He's a drefful wicked boy; he snaps
+beans at the teacher and gets a whipping every single day."
+
+"I'll take him," said the big man. "How much shall I pay you--what shall
+I give you for him?"
+
+"A han'kercher with some _perfoomery_ on it."
+
+"Yes, yes, here you have it," he said, and taking a great bottle from
+his belt, and a little blue-bordered handkerchief from one pocket, he
+sprinkled it profusely with some real cologne and gave it to the
+delighted child.
+
+"Any more brothers for sale, little girl? I'm in want of some boys?"
+
+"Yes, sir! You can have Johnny, he tears up my dolls and mamma lets him
+wear my bestest sash--_and_ the baby, he gets the coli'c and
+screams--_and_ Harry, he won't bring in the wood for mamma, and he eats
+up my candy and has cookies for supper and I don't, _and_--"
+
+"I'll take 'em all," grunted the big man.
+
+"I'll sell Harry for a doll with _truly_ hair and a black silk and
+ear-rings and some choc'late ca'mels," said she with the air of an old
+trader.
+
+"What luck!" he laughed; and diving into another pocket, he brought
+forth a handful of candy and filled Molly's apron pockets, then taking
+off his great cap he shook down a lovely doll, with _truly_ hair indeed,
+long and curly, dressed in a black silk with train and pull-back just
+like mamma's.
+
+"And what'll you sell Jonathan for?"
+
+"Johnny, you mean--you can have him for a kitten sir."
+
+In an instant the fur cap was off, and a little mewing kitten was
+produced, for her wondering and delighted gaze.
+
+"And the baby--he wouldn't be worth much to me--"
+
+"Well, he is to me--but I'll sell him for a red cardinal sash and a
+little sister 'bout as big as Tilly White."
+
+"Whew!" he exclaimed, "you most take my breath away! but here's the
+sash--a beauty, too--I don't happen to have any little sisters with me,"
+feeling of the outside of his pockets, peering into his pack, and even
+taking off the great cap and shaking it as if a little girl _might_ be
+folded up in that. "No, really I haven't a little sister about me, but
+don't you cry; I'll bring one round to-morrow--and now I must be picking
+up these brothers--where are they?"
+
+"Baby Willie is in the back-yard in his carriage and Johnny and Harry
+are playing _fooneral_ with him," said she, gravely.
+
+"But that wasn't all; don't cheat me, little girl!" frowned the big
+freckled-faced man.
+
+"No! I wasn't going to--Tommy--he's in the yard round the corner there
+with the big boys--he's 'leven--he's my greatest brother--he's a drefful
+wicked boy--" Molly was going on with the bean-story very likely, but
+at that moment the funeral procession of a baby carriage and two
+followers filed up.
+
+The great man darted forward, seized three-year-old Johnny and Harry in
+his arms, stuffed one head-first, the other legs-first, into the
+monstrous pack.
+
+The one that went in head-first had his fat legs left dangling; the one
+that went in legs-first, his head sticking out.
+
+The baby went into one of his deep pockets where his screams were
+stifled.
+
+This was the work of a second and the man hurried out of sight, saying
+cheerily over his shoulder to Molly, "I'll bring round the little sister
+to-morrow."
+
+Molly had so many things to take her attention that she had no time to
+be conscience-smitten.
+
+There was her odorous handkerchief; her sash, which she hung over her
+arm; her pockets full of candy; under one arm the wonderful doll; under
+the other, the live kitten.
+
+But in a half hour the doll had ceased to charm; she couldn't tie the
+sash herself; the "perfoomery" had evaporated; the kitten had scratched
+her hand because Molly had picked her up by the tail; only a few
+chocolate caramels were left, and, I suspect that all seemed as "vanity
+of vanities" to poor Molly. Just then Fred, her favorite and only
+remaining brother, came dancing down the path and stopped, amazed before
+Molly's display of wealth.
+
+
+[Illustration: SHE COULDN'T SPARE FREDDIE.]
+
+
+Somehow the "choc'late ca'amels" tasted sweeter again when she shared
+them with Fred, and she couldn't help saying, "Ain't they _boolicious_,
+Freddie?"
+
+She hadn't time to tell Freddie how she came possessed of all her
+treasures, for there again appeared at the gate the same great man, with
+his cry, "Brother for sale!"
+
+"No, no!" screamed Molly, throwing her two fat arms round Fred, at the
+same time crying, "Run away Freddie, quick! run away."
+
+Now considering that Fred had the doll and the kitten in his lap, and
+his sister's arms around his neck, it wasn't strange that the little
+fellow didn't run.
+
+"I'll give you ten dollars for this boy," said the great man, unwinding
+Molly's arms, and picking fat Fred up, and thrusting him like a roll of
+cotton batting under his arm.
+
+Molly screamed and--and--well--she woke.
+
+She hadn't been swinging on the gate at all; there wasn't any horrid,
+_rusty_-faced man standing by her; she had been asleep in school and
+dreaming.
+
+But she couldn't believe it; and with all Miss Winche's kind coaxing,
+she wouldn't lift her face from her desk, and would only sob, "I want my
+Freddie! I want my Freddie!"
+
+The funniest part of it was, the child hadn't been asleep five minutes.
+She had been idly listening to a spelling class, and just after the
+word "_sail_" dropped into a nap.
+
+By the way, perhaps I should not omit to mention that before she went to
+school that morning she had declared to her mother that boys were
+_bothers_; no wonder! baby Willie, at breakfast, had punched his little
+fist down into her mug, spilled the milk, and sent the mug crashing on
+the floor. Johnny had taken the orange out of her sacque pocket, and she
+had to let him have it because he was "a little fellow," and Harry and
+Tommy had carried all the cookies to school in their pockets.
+
+But now--after the dream, Molly hugged the baby; and she said
+confidentially to mamma, "Isn't he sweet?--I don't think boys are a
+bother, do you, mamma?"
+
+And a little later, while rocking her old rag-doll, "mamma," said she,
+"I won't ever swing on the front-gate again ever--ever--ever in my
+life."
+
+
+
+
+A STORY OF A CLOCK.
+
+
+My real name was so short that I was called Nancy, "for long." I was the
+fourth child in a very large family. The three elder were a brother and
+two sisters. The first, very quick at books and figures, finished his
+education at an early age, and seemed to me about as old and dignified
+as my father. My sisters, Sarah and Mary, were exemplary in school and
+out. The former, at eight, read Virgil; painted "Our Mother's Grave" at
+eleven--'twas an imaginary grave judging from the happy children
+standing by; wrote rhymes for all the albums, printed verses on
+card-board and kept on living. Mary read every book she could find; had
+a prize at six years of age for digesting "Rollins' Ancient History;"
+had great mathematical talent, and though she sighed in her fourteenth
+year that she had grown old, yet continues to add to her age, being one
+of the oldest professors in a flourishing college.
+
+With such precedences, it is not strange that my parents were astonished
+when their fourth child developed other and less exaggerated traits,
+with no inclination to be moulded. Within ten months of my eighth year,
+my teacher, who had previously dealt with Sarah and Mary with great
+success, made the following remark to me: "If thou wilt learn to answer
+all those questions in astronomy," passing her pencil lightly over two
+pages in _Wilkin's Elements_ "before next seventh day, I'll give thee
+two cents and a nice note to thy parents" (my father was a scientific
+man, and my mother a prime mover in our education).
+
+"Two cents" did seem quite a temptation, but the lesson I concluded not
+to get. "I worked wiser than I knew." I may have wanted a "two cents"
+many a time since, but I never was sorry about that. Spelling,
+arithmetic, grammar, geography, history and reading, though they were
+the Peter-Parley edition, seemed about enough food for a child that was
+hungering and thirsting for a doll like Judith Collin's, and for
+capacity to outrun the neighboring boys. To be sure the recitation in
+concert, where the names of the asteroids, only four in number (instead
+of a million and four) were brought out by some of us, as "vesper,"
+"pallid," "you know," and "serious" showed that we did not confine
+ourselves too closely to the book.
+
+Seventh-day afternoon was a holiday, and on one of these occasions I was
+sent to stay with my grandmother, as my mother, as my maiden aunt (the
+latter lived with my grandmother) were going to Polpis to a corn-pudding
+party. I was too troublesome to be left at home, therefore, two birds
+were to be killed with one stone.
+
+Now I had for a long time desired to be left alone with my lame and deaf
+grandmother and the Tall Clock, especially the Tall Clock. I went,
+therefore, to her old house on Plover street in a calm and lovely frame
+of mind and helped get my aunt ready for the ride.
+
+'Twas a cold day though September; and after she took her seat in the
+flag-chair tied into the cart, I conceived the notion to add my
+grandmother's best "heppy" to the wraps which they had already put into
+the calash. I always had wanted a chance at that camphor-trunk; and the
+above cloak, too nice to be worn, lay in the bottom underneath a mighty
+weight of neatly-folded articles of winter raiment. It came out with a
+"long pull" and many a "strong pull" and I got to the door with the
+head of it, while the whole length of this precious bright coating was
+dragging on the floor. But the cart had started, and when my aunt looked
+back, I was flourishing this "heppy" to see the wind fill it.
+
+I returned to the room, restored the article to the chest quite snugly,
+leaving one corner hanging out and that I stuffed in afterwards and
+jumped upon the cover of the trunk so that it shut. Very demurely I sat
+down before the open fire by my grandmother's easy chair, rocking
+furiously, watching my own face in the bright andirons, whose convex
+surfaces reflected first a "small Nancy" far off, then as I rocked
+forward, a large and distorted figure. My rapid motions made such rapid
+caricatures that I remained absorbed and attentive. My grandmother, not
+seeing the cause of my content, decided (as she told my mother
+afterwards), "that the child was sick, or becoming regenerated." Happy
+illusion!
+
+At last, my grandmother got to nodding and I sprang to my
+long-contemplated work.
+
+Putting a cricket into one of the best rush-bottom chairs, I climbed to
+the Clock; took off the frame glass and all, from its head, placing it
+noiselessly on the floor; opened the tall door in the body of the clock;
+drew out and unhung the pendulum--the striking weight, whose string was
+broken, was made all right and put for the time being on the table. Then
+the "moon and stars" which had been fixed for a quarter of a century,
+were made to spin; the "days of the month" refused to pass in review
+without a squeak that must be remedied, so I flew into the closet to get
+some sweet oil which was goose-grease; but shutting the closet-door I
+roused my grandmother.
+
+I quietly went at the old rocking again, the bottle of goose-grease in
+my pocket, which I feared might melt and I should lose the material--the
+bottle was already low.
+
+Fortunately my grandmother began napping again, and I resumed my task.
+Applying the oil with a bird's wing was a lavish process--the wheels
+moved easily; the hands became quite slippy; the moon "rose and set" to
+order; the days of the month glided thirty times a minute, and I was
+just using a pin to prove the material of the dial when my grandmother
+turned her head, at the same time reaching for her cane (the emergency
+had been foreseen and special care had I taken that the cane should not
+be forthcoming). "Nancy! Nancy! is thee crazy?"
+
+Thinking to strengthen this idea, I jumped into the clock and held the
+door fast; but finally thinking 'twas cowardly not to face it I jumped
+out again, up into the chair, saying, "I am mending this old clock;" and
+notwithstanding her remonstrances, continued my work putting back the
+various pieces. When I was afraid of "giving out and giving up," I
+decided I would just answer her back once and say "I wont." The
+wickedness would certainly discourage her beyond a hope, and then I
+could finish.
+
+So I put the moon on, staring full; in putting on the hands I got, I
+thought, sufficiently worked up to venture my prepared reply to her
+repeated "get down!"
+
+I accordingly approached my grandmother, stopping some feet from her;
+bent my body half-over, my long red hair covering my eyes, and my head
+suiting its action to my earnestness, and in a decided rebellious tone,
+I spelled, "I W-O-N-T;" but accidently giving myself a turn on my heel I
+fell to the floor, with the pronunciation still unexpressed.
+
+I quickly rose, though I saw stars without any "two cents," and returned
+to, and finished my work. I had just put the last touch on when I heard
+the wheels. How I dreaded my aunt's appearance! As she entered the door
+I was found "demurely rocking" to the pictures in the andirons.
+
+My aunt thought I did not seem natural, and kissed me as being "too
+good, perhaps, to be well." My grandmother tried to speak, but I
+interrupted:
+
+"I must go home without my tea. I am not afraid of the dark, and I
+better go."
+
+This was another proof of indisposition to the aunt. I left the house,
+kissing as I thought, my grandmother into silence; but as I looked back
+I saw she could not utter a word without laughing at the aunt's anxiety,
+and so had to put off the narration till after my departure.
+
+I went home about as fast as possible; desired to go to bed
+immediately--never went before without being sent, and then not in a
+very good mood. My mother followed me with a talk of "herb tea," and as
+I thought I must have some "end to the farce," I agreed that a little
+might do me good. My mother consequently brought me, I do believe, a
+"Scripture measure" pint of bitter tea, which I hurriedly drank, as I
+knew my sisters had already started for my grandmother's, to see how I
+had been through the afternoon. When they returned, though I heard the
+laughing and talking in the sitting-room below, I was, to all intents
+and purposes, sound asleep and snoring.
+
+No allusion was ever made to my demeanor. I went to school as usual,
+and told the school-girls that I had had such a good time at my aunt's
+the day before that I would never go there again "as long as I lived."
+
+My grandmother and aunt died long ago. For years I had no reason to
+believe that my afternoon's tragedy was known to any one. But once, not
+long since, speaking of that clock, I said, "I'm glad it did not descend
+to me;" when a friend replied, with a very knowing look, "So is your
+grandmother!"
+
+
+
+
+NAUGHTY ZAY.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+Once upon a time there was a dear little naughty girl, not _bad_, she
+would not have been so dear had she been really bad, but just naughty
+sometimes, and I must confess "sometimes" came pretty often. She had all
+sorts of loving scolding names, such as "precious torment," "darling
+bother," and she kept her poor dear grandmother on a continuous trot to
+see what mischief she was in, and frightened her mother (who thought
+everybody must want to steal Zay) by hiding behind the Missouri currant
+bush until every nook and corner had been searched; and she made her
+uncle shake his head gravely because she never could get beyond the
+first question in the Catechism, "what is your name?" and even then
+would answer _Zay_, although he had told her that "that was not her name
+at all; she had been baptized Salome; and Zay was a name she had no
+right to whatever." Nor can I begin to tell you the times I have
+exhausted all my strength putting her sturdy little self into the
+closet, and then standing first on one foot, then on the other, until I
+was ready to drop, listening at the keyhole for the first small sob of
+repentance.
+
+Things had gone wrong with our naughty little Zay this morning. Mary,
+the good old cook, who had been in the house years before Zay was born,
+had actually refused to let her make any more mud-pies on her kitchen
+window; and mamma and grandma had sided with the enemy.
+
+Zay was a little dumpling of a girl, with hard round cheeks like red
+apples, fat dimpled arms, and such wide-open eyes, and she looked very
+funny now as she drew herself up to her fullest height, which was not
+much of a height after all, brushed off her pretty blue dress, shook
+down her clean ruffled apron, and addressed us all in very solemn
+tones:
+
+"I jes' want to tell you, I've been _resulted_, and I am never going to
+live here anymore! I'll go 'way; clear off in the woods! And then I
+guess you'll all be sorry! Mary need never make any more scrambled eggs
+for breakfast, cause" (she almost broke down at the bare thought of so
+direful a catastrophe), "cause there'll never be any chil'en to eat 'em
+anymore! And _then_ I guess grandpa will be sorry when he comes home
+tired, and doesn't have his s'ippers all yeddy!"
+
+"O," said her mamma, gravely, "you are going right off, are you, before
+dinner?"
+
+"Yes, wight st'ait away, _now_! I'll go get my hat."
+
+Down stairs the quick feet pattered to the hall-closet where the little
+sun hat hung, always ready for the garden. Soon she was back, and held
+her chin up with great composure for grandma to tie the strings.
+
+The dear grandmother quietly laid her fine sewing down beside her on the
+sofa. "_Is_ my little girl going away off by herself in the woods?"
+
+"Yes, miles and _mileses_!"
+
+"And what will you do when you get hungry?"
+
+"Why, I'm going to take all my money," forthwith going to a drawer in
+the old-fashioned book-case, and taking out a diminutive porte-monnaie,
+which contained her whole fortune, three silver three-cent pieces, and
+hanging it on her fat little hand, "and I can go to some g'ocery in the
+woods, and buy lots of butter crackers."
+
+I, sitting in an easy chair, just recovered from a long illness,
+suggested, "But, Zay, you might want something besides crackers. I know
+a little girl who is very fond of 'drum-sticks' and 'wish-bones'!"
+
+"I can eat bears and wolves. I can make gravy, and," she added, "I'm
+going to take grandpa's gun wif me."
+
+"Very well," answered her mamma, going to grandfather's closet and
+bringing out the gun, which was twice as large as the child.
+
+There she stood before us--a little blue-eyed girl with a demure sun-hat
+shading a very resolute and, as yet, untroubled face, the gun held up
+tight against her with one fat dimpled hand, while from the other
+dangled the little purse.
+
+"I'm all yeddy now, so good-bye ev'ybody," she said at last.
+
+"Good-bye," said gentle grandma, holding up the little face to kiss the
+firm red lips. "I am afraid I shall miss my little girl to-night when I
+want the red stand drawn out for the drop light; and I'm sure grandpa
+will need his slippers."
+
+Zay looked somewhat irresolute; but her mamma here spoke:
+
+"I think," said she, "if you intend to reach the woods before dark you
+should start at once, for it is almost two o'clock now."
+
+"Good-bye ev'ybody," said Zay again.
+
+"And," said Lita, "I'll carry the gun down and open the front gate for
+you."
+
+Bravely the child marched out of the room, out of the front door and
+gate. There Lita handed her the gun; but after trying several times to
+walk with it, she told Lita that she didn't know as she should care for
+any wolf wish-bone with her butter crackers, and asked her to take the
+gun back in the house, and then she banged the gate, hoping Mary saw
+her, with an air of importance, and pattered off on a fast little
+dog-trot down the street.
+
+Meanwhile we were all watching her behind the blinds.
+
+"Don't lose sight of her," said mamma, "but don't let her see you!"
+
+This is what Lita saw. A sturdy little figure walking steadily onward,
+never looking back. At length it stops, opens the little purse, counts
+its money, but never noting that in the trouble with the clasps the
+three little coins fall, like three silver rain drops, to the pavement.
+It goes on and on, till Lita fears it will really go out of sight. Then
+the little figure "slows up" again, opens the little purse, and stops
+short!
+
+Ah, the horrors of poverty! Lita understands the poor little irresolute
+figure. No money means no butter crackers, and no butter crackers means
+despair. The little steps come homeward. The blue eyes are bent on the
+ground. She does not know that grandpa has come quietly up behind her,
+and found each little silver piece.
+
+The little rebel appeared in the hall just as dinner was carried in.
+There was a most savory odor of fricassee. Grandma and mamma and Lita
+were just entering the dining room.
+
+"Well," Zay calmly announced, "I 'cluded not to go till after dinner."
+
+"Is that so?" quietly replied her mother. "But you might better have
+gone on. Any little girl who wants to leave a nice home because she
+can't have her own way, needn't look for any dinner here! I expected you
+to dine on butter crackers and bears."
+
+"I like chicken, I do," said proud little Zay with appealing eyes, but
+no tears; "and then I lost all my pennies!"
+
+In vain did the tender hearted grandma pull mamma's dress,--mamma
+entered the dining room and shut the door; and up came poor Zay to the
+room where I awaited my dinner, for she had seen a tray borne hither.
+But she did not know that her mamma's parting injunction had been, "you
+must not give her anything! I must--indeed, I _wish_ to teach my child a
+lesson."
+
+Little sun-hat and empty porte-monnaie put away, quietly she seated
+herself on the sofa opposite me, with two little fat feet hanging
+dangling down. Dignity kept her silent, and amusement mingled with pity
+made me so.
+
+This state of things lasted for some moments, while the dainties were
+diminishing from my plate. Every mouthful was wistfully watched. At
+length with grave old-fashioned face, she asked, "Are you sorry for
+beggar chil'en, Aunty?"
+
+"Very sorry indeed," I replied with composure.
+
+Then with a tremor in the voice:
+
+"Aunty, if you saw a little child in the street a starvin' to death for
+some bread and butter wif jelly on it, wouldn't you give her some?"
+
+I shook my head. Another pause, and then with little fat hands clasped,
+and voice full of sobs, poor little Zay cried out, "Oh, Aunty, if you
+saw a little girl starvin' to death for sponge cake, wouldn't you give
+her some?"
+
+"How could I, Zay, if the little girl's mamma had forbidden it?"
+
+All her fortitude was gone. She burst into tears. She laid her head down
+on the sofa and sobbed.
+
+"Oh, oh! and they had fricasseed chicken, with Mary's nice toast under
+it; and you have sponge-cake and wine-jelly; and I haven't nuffin; there
+isn't one single butter cracker in the house!"
+
+At this climax of misery the house resounded with her lamentations, in
+which my tears would mingle; but fortunately the dear grand-parents soon
+appeared to comfort their darling. And so, somehow, up on grandpa's lap
+it became easier to see how naughty it was to annoy good old Mary, and
+how ungrateful it was to wish to run away from home. And pardons were
+begged and kisses were given, and the three little silver pieces crept
+back into the tiny porte-monnaie, and Zay had some of Mary's nice toast
+with lots of gravy, and a drum-stick and a wish-bone.
+
+Zay is a young lady now, and I presume when she reads this story she
+will pout and blush, and the more because it is every word true.
+
+
+
+
+THE LEGEND OF THE SALT SEA.
+
+
+Once upon a time there lived by the great sea two brothers, named Klaus
+and Koerg; the elder inheriting the rich estates of his ancestors; the
+younger a woodchopper, and so poor that it was ofttimes a difficult task
+for him to provide bread for his wife and little children.
+
+Hard as life often seems it may be even harder; and so bitterly realized
+Koerg when, nigh on to one merry Christmas-tide, an accident deprived him
+of his strong right hand, thereby cutting off forever his slender means
+of livelihood. There was but one resource, and, with crushed spirit Koerg
+betook himself to his elder brother to crave some mercy for his starving
+babes.
+
+Klaus was a harsh man, with love only for his yellow gold. He frowned
+impatiently when Koerg interrupted his selfish dreams, and, for answer to
+his pitiful story, threw him a loaf of bread and a pudding, bidding him
+begone and be satisfied. And Koerg went forth with a heavy heart, his
+faint hope dead.
+
+His homeward path followed the raging sea. The night was dark and
+stormy, the waves bellowed and lashed at the shore like an army of
+infuriated beasts; but Koerg heeded it not, only clutched his bread and
+pudding, and walked on with a white despairing face. Suddenly, as he
+emerged from a thick bit of woods, he became conscious of a strange
+light encircling him, and halting, quite terrified at the phenomenon, he
+beheld a little old man, snow-haired and bearded, standing plump in the
+path before him.
+
+"You seem in trouble, friend," he ejaculated, with a chuckle. "Something
+twists in your world, I trow."
+
+Koerg was not slow to recognize a _geist_; his knees shook, and he dared
+not utter a word. The elf looked down upon him half displeased, yet
+chuckling merrily withal.
+
+"You have nothing to fear from me," he continued, sweetly. "I am the
+guardian of the honest poor. This night I come to reveal to you a
+secret, which, rightly used, will bestow upon you riches, life-lasting
+and unlimited."
+
+Koerg, bewildered, could not yet yield simple faith. He clutched
+desperately his bread and pudding. He found no joyful words.
+
+The little man frowned scathingly on the gift of Klaus, then burst into
+a scornful laugh.
+
+
+[Illustration: THE WONDER-MILL GRINDS.]
+
+
+"It is always thus, friend, with the money elves; they deal niggardly,
+even at the full. But, care not, since this meagre chip will prove to
+you a barter for millions. Follow me! The great estates to Klaus; the
+treasures of the sea Koerg shall know, to-night!" And, with a hand-wave,
+the elf led the way over the rough cliffs, Koerg mutely following.
+
+
+[Illustration: THE GEIST.]
+
+
+He paused at the base of a hillock, shaped like a horseshoe--a spot
+which Koerg knew well--a place of rocks, reefs, and general ill-report.
+
+"The time is favorable," muttered the little man, "my children are
+hungry, to-night." And, turning to Koerg, he continued: "Take the gift of
+Klaus and go down into the sea. A crowd will swarm upon you, as
+persistent and voracious as any in this upper world. Ask for the
+_wonder-mill_, and sacrifice your treasures only in its exchange. I will
+await you here."
+
+A spell immediately enwrapped the senses of Koerg. Calm and fearless, he
+descended into the deep, floating dreamily downward to the glittering
+caves from whence, exactly as the elf had depicted, swarmed forth troops
+of mermen and mermaids, with eyes and arms voraciously extended towards
+the bread and the pudding he held tightly clutched to his breast. But
+Koerg, spurred on by the elf, resisted them all, nor parted with a single
+crumb till the wonder-mill lay safe in his embrace. The little man stood
+waiting on the brink.
+
+"I dedicate this to the honest poor," he said, softly. "Yes, Koerg, it is
+yours. Ask of it what you will, and it shall never fail you--gold,
+silver, hundreds of loaves and puddings. But--" and here the little man
+paused, a shudder quivered through his frame, and he continued,
+solemnly--"remember, that by no hand but yours can it be controlled.
+Guard it carefully, for the day you part with it your portion shall be
+ashes, and _mine_ annihilation."
+
+When Koerg dared lift his eyes the elf had disappeared.
+
+Rahel sat at home with the children, weeping. She knew well the heart of
+her brother Klaus, and how vain would be Koerg's last effort to save them
+from starvation. A step sounded on the path without. Rahel and the babes
+stopped to listen. It was not dull and heavy as they had expected, but
+blithe as the jingle of sleigh-bells, and, in a second, Koerg burst in
+upon them, dimpling all over with merry laughter. Rahel regarded him,
+amazed.
+
+"You bring no bread to our starving babes, and yet you laugh," she said.
+"Oh, Koerg! Koerg! trouble has made you mad!"
+
+Still chuckling he slipped the wonder-mill from beneath his coat and
+said, softly:
+
+"Hush, Rahel! A _geist_ has been with me to-night. I have brought
+endless fortune from the depths of the sea." And, plump in the eyes of
+his astonished wife, he began turning out loaves and puddings with such
+a gusto that the room was soon filled, and Rahel fain to implore him to
+cease his elfish work.
+
+From that night, just as the little man had said, riches unlimited came
+to the house of Koerg. No treasure too great for the mill to produce;
+and, though the woodchopper strove hard at secrecy, its fame spread far
+and wide from the mountains back to the sea, and folks flocked by
+thousands to view the magic engine that Koerg had fished up from the the
+ocean's depths. And though, always good humoredly, he tested its powers
+and loaded his guests with princely gifts, yet he rested night after
+night more uneasily upon his pillow, remembering the solemn words of the
+_geist_:
+
+"The day you part with it your portion shall be ashes, and _mine_
+annihilation."
+
+One day, after the space of a year, there came to the woodchopper's door
+a captain from far-off lands.
+
+"I am here," he said, "to see the famous wonder-mill that blesses the
+house of Koerg."
+
+There was a simplicity about the old tar that completely dismantled
+Koerg. With less than ordinary caution he brought forth the mill, and
+displayed it, in all its phases, before his astonished guest.
+
+"It is a clever trickster," finally he quoth. "I wonder if it could
+grind so common a thing as salt."
+
+Koerg chuckled contemptuously, and speedily spurted right and left such a
+briny shower as made the old tar blink spasmodically and walk hurriedly
+away.
+
+But, alas! that night Koerg missed the mill from his side; and when, pale
+and shivering, he sought the golden treasures hid 'neath the floor, he
+found only an ashy heap, heard only the mournful words:
+
+"The mermen and mermaids are dead. The _geists_ have ceased to reign."
+
+Far out on the blue bosom of the sea the jolly captain rode, shouting
+uproariously over the treasure he had secured.
+
+"Precious wonder-mill," he sang, "I will try thee in all thy ways. First
+salt for savor, then ducks for food, and gold to the end of my days."
+And he started the tiny wheels, and clapped his hands frantically at its
+ready compliance to his will.
+
+Forth poured the sparkling, crusty grain in one buzzing maze of
+whiteness. Thick gathered the milky drifts from bow to stern. Still
+shouted the captain his savage joy till--a-sudden he paused, gazed as if
+spell-bound on the mill's mad work, with a cry of terror sprang forward
+and grasped the check. But, in vain. There was no surcease to its labor.
+Higher and higher up lifted the mighty salt banks, and, in a twinkling,
+both destroyed and destroyer sank helpless into the depths of the sea.
+
+And, down amid the green sea-weeds, the wonder-mill still stands,
+pouring forth salt the whole day long--no hand to check its raging; for
+the mermen and mermaids are all dead, and the _geists_ have ceased to
+reign.
+
+And this is why the sea-water is salt.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+THE MAN WITH THE STRAW HAT.
+
+
+It is nothing strange that a man should wear a straw hat; but--well,
+listen to my story.
+
+One winter I was travelling near Lake Ontario, and, as the day was dark,
+I could not see every one in the car very plainly. There was a little
+old man near whose face I could but just see--for he had on a small
+black hat, and his coat collar was turned up. Soon after I noticed him
+the train stopped at the station where I was to get off. The old man and
+five or six other persons also left the train. We all stepped into a
+sleigh, and were driven several miles over the snow to a hotel.
+
+"It is _very_ cold," said the little old man as we started.
+
+"Yes," said one of the passengers; "but we shall not be long going."
+
+After a short pause, he again spoke:
+
+"It is certainly very cold. I am truly afraid I shall freeze before we
+get there."
+
+"O, no! not so very cold," said I, drawing my fur cap tightly over my
+ears.
+
+"I was never so cold in my life!" growled the little man. "My ears are
+freezing, now."
+
+"Sorry I can't help you," I said, with a feeling of true sympathy; "but
+we have not much further to go."
+
+Presently he growled again:
+
+"I know I shall freeze, anyhow. Can I take your muffler?"
+
+I spared my muffler. But, pretty soon, I heard from him again:
+
+"The top of my head is very cold, and I shall have a fearful headache."
+
+We soon reached the hotel and entered the office, where a warm fire
+welcomed us. The little old man undid the muffler and handed it to me.
+He then removed his hat, and I discovered _that it was of straw_, and,
+also, that he was very bald.
+
+My pity for the man was all gone in a moment. It could not be that he
+had no other hat, for he was dressed well enough to own twenty hats. I
+never found out what his reason was for wearing such a hat in the
+winter.
+
+I fell to moralizing presently; but I will not here write down my
+reflections. Suffice it to say that every day in the year I meet
+children, and grown people too, for that matter, who are "_wearing straw
+hats in the winter_," and suffering various dreadful things in
+consequence thereof. The very next time you get into trouble, before you
+grumble and fret, see if it is not because you are _wearing a straw hat
+in winter_.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+RUFFLES AND PUFFS.
+
+
+She stood looking down upon her neat plaid dress with a very
+dissatisfied face.
+
+"Mamma," she said, "why can't I wear pretty clothes every day like Irene
+Clarke? She always has puffs and ruffles, and her aprons are trimmed
+_so_ nice."
+
+Mamma finished buttoning the tippet and tied down the snug little hat.
+
+"Puffs and ruffles and dainty aprons _are_ nice," she replied gently.
+"Mamma likes pretty things as well as Lou, but always in their place,
+dearie."
+
+But mamma's words did not help. Little Lou went out with the same
+dissatisfied face.
+
+"They say mammas know best," she spoke. "It's funny, though. Irene's
+mamma knows a different best from mine--O, there she is!" and Lou
+hurried to meet the little city girl whose puffs and ruffles had made
+her plaid frock seem so mean.
+
+
+[Illustration: LOU.]
+
+
+It chanced that Irene wore a fresh suit, one that Lou had never seen.
+Delightedly she spied the dainty robe.
+
+"Ain't that sweet!" she exclaimed, and feasted her eyes till, suddenly
+looking down at Irene's gaiters, she caught a glimpse of a curious
+field-bug trotting along on the ground. My little lady forgot the
+ruffles, forgot everything but her desire for a closer view.
+
+"O, see--see!" she cried excitedly, half-running, half-crawling after
+the bug, "see this funny thing! I can't catch him! But, O my--ain't he
+cunnin'! Irene, do get down here and see!"
+
+Irene took a step forward, then stood still.
+
+"I can't," she said, "I might soil my dress."
+
+But Lou scarcely heard. She was absorbed in the funny bug. On she went
+trying to catch him, till finally he slipped round a tree-root and was
+seen no more.
+
+Back came Lou to Irene brushing the dirt from her frock.
+
+"It's cold standin' here," she said, "let's play tag."
+
+"I can't," spoke Irene again, "I might trip and soil my dress."
+
+Lou's eyes went up and down the dainty robe. "It isn't much of a
+tag-frock," she thought. But she was a restless maid. Between hopping
+and dancing she glanced up at the sky and exclaimed:
+
+"I guess it'll snow to-night. If it does, come over to my house
+to-morrow and we'll get out the sled. We can take turns bein' horse, you
+know."
+
+But Irene shook her head.
+
+"I'd like to," she replied, "but mamma won't let me. I haven't a dress
+that's fit."
+
+Lou's face gleamed with surprise.
+
+"O, my!" she said, "can't you ever take a hill-ride, or build a
+snow-man, or--" but Irene looked so sober that Lou's sympathies awoke.
+"Never mind," she added, "you'll come up to your grandpa's again in the
+summer; then you'll wear _do-up_ clothes, and we'll have lots of fun."
+
+"The _do-up_ clothes are the worst," replied Irene sadly. "Mamma don't
+want _them_ soiled."
+
+Lou looked down at her plaid frock; she thought of the plentiful
+ginghams at home. Suddenly she turned and rushed headlong back to mamma.
+
+"O my!" she began, "Irene Clarke can't have no fun! She ain't got no
+slide-dresses, she can't soil her _do-up_ clothes, and--O my!
+mamma--it's all them ruffles and puffs! I wouldn't wear 'em for the
+world! No, I just wouldn't!"
+
+Mamma could but smile.
+
+"I am glad my little girl has changed," she said. "I feared, a while
+ago, that because she could not have ruffles and puffs on her dresses
+she was going to wear them up in her face."
+
+The free little out-of-doors girl blushed; and then she could have
+hugged her plaid frock for very joy.
+
+
+
+
+SUGAR RIVER.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+"Sugar River!" The little cup-bearing hand stood transfixed halfway from
+table to lip. The silver cup tilted part way over in sheer astonishment.
+Drip, drip, drip, dripped the contents down into Tot's scrap of ruffled
+and embroidered lap.
+
+"Bless me! Look at that child!" cried Tot's papa. And Tot was looked at
+and hustled away, and the little silver mug tried to drown itself in a
+yellow stream of sunshine flowing across the table; and, failing in
+that, tried to sparkle just as Tot's eyes had sparkled, and failed in
+that, too. For that was O, very bright--nothing was brighter than Tot's
+eyes.
+
+"Well, Totchen," said Tot's boy-uncle Will, looking up from his book as
+something pierced his knee, as only Tot's small elbow could pierce.
+"Well, Totchen; what is it? Stories? Then _jump_!"
+
+O, what happy state to sit enthroned upon a big boy-uncle's knee, and
+listen, listen, listen, with eyes like the dog's in the fairy story--"as
+big as the great round tower at Copenhagen"--more or less!
+
+"What shall I tell you? Aladdin? Puss in Boots? Cin--"
+
+"Soogar Wiver" interrupted Tot, promptly.
+
+"_Soogar Wiver?_ Why, what a little pitcher for ears! What do you know
+about Soogar Wiver?"
+
+"Oo said," said Tot, with decision, "that oo went fisin' in Soogar
+Wiver."
+
+"Why, so I did," said the boy, reflectively.
+
+"Is it vewy sweet?" asked Tot.
+
+"Sweet?" echoed the boy, taking his wicked cue and with a prolonged
+drawing in of the lips. "I should say so! Why, its bed is solid sugar,
+with as many grades of sugar grains for sand as one finds in a grocer
+shop."
+
+"Do wivers do to bed dus 'ike 'ittle dirls?" demanded Tot, whose young
+existence was embittered by that seemingly needless ceremony.
+
+"You see," said the boy, with the air of communicating much useful
+information, "it is even worse than that. They never get up at all. Only
+once in a while they get into tantrums and break loose and make every
+one scatter; for a river is one of the quickest fellows at a run you
+ever saw. And well they might be, for they are at it all the time,
+asleep or awake."
+
+"I sood 'ike to see Soogar Wiver," said Tot.
+
+"Wouldn't you!" And Will, fairly launched, tossed all conscientious
+scruples overboard, and steered boldly out into the deep waters of
+wildest imagination. "You just would! Why, as I said, the river bed is
+solid sugar. Think how nice to be able to turn over and take a gnaw at
+your bed-post when you feel hungry! The pebbles are sugar plums, the
+bigger stones are broken sugar loaves, and the rocks, why, the rocks are
+made out of rock candy, of course."
+
+Tot sighed, blissfully.
+
+"It is the jolliest place to go fishing. You just lie down on a rock,
+nibble it occasionally, chew up a few pebbles, take a bite at a stone,
+and if you are thirsty--as, of course, you would be--there is a whole
+river of _eau sucre_--that is what the French call sweetened
+water--running right by, enough to supply all France. And, all the time,
+you are hauling up the fish just as fast as they can bite. They are a
+peculiar kind of fish, wouldn't look at a worm. Nothing short of taffy
+bait will tempt them. They look like those fishes you buy at the
+confectioners--penny apiece--very high-colored, very flat, and mostly
+tail; and, when cooked, they taste very much like them."
+
+Tot still gazed up into the remorseless boy's face in unblinking
+confidence. And, indeed, from one who, for the last two weeks, together
+with Tot, had been on the most familiar footing with giants, ogres, and
+hop-o-my-thumbs, and held the most sympathizing relations towards
+enchanted princesses and conquering knights, an account of a "Soogar
+Wiver," was not to be regarded as startling. As for Will's
+conscience--well, his mission with Tot was to amuse, not instruct--if
+Tot was amused the whole end and aim of his efforts was attained.
+
+"We tried having dories made of the same material of those candy marbles
+that nothing but time and long-enduring patience will ever make an end
+of. But the fellows had such a habit, as they floated down the stream,
+of eating up the oars, we had to give it up--"
+
+"Will," said Tot's mamma, at the open door, "are you ready? Run away to
+Ellen, Tot, and be a good little girl."
+
+Tot descended from her throne, slowly and unwillingly, and, going
+obediently away, never knew about the beautiful river fairy just then
+springing to life, like Minerva in the brain of Jove, in Will's fancy,
+purposely to make Tot's acquaintance.
+
+With glistening wonder in her eyes, in robe of trailing, snowy, sun-shot
+mist, with water lilies dropping from her hair, and the cave--Will could
+have provided for her such a cave, the water tinkling and trickling from
+the walls hung with silver spray, stalactites of purest barley sugar
+glittering, pillars of creamiest cream candy shimmering; and, to crown
+all and above all, the fairy would have had a daily diet of cream cakes
+and caramels.
+
+But, before all this splendor of material could be built up into words,
+the builder had departed, the river fairy had melted back and away into
+her native mist, and Tot never knew.
+
+That night, Will tossed Tot flying once more into the air, rescued once
+more his fresh collar from her crumpling embrace, kissed her once more,
+good-by this time, and was off and away on the cars to school. No more
+stories. No more fairies. No more anything. Only a wonderful river
+winding and gleaming and leaping through Tot's childish
+dreams--beautiful, wonderful "Soogar Wiver," where happy Uncle Will went
+fishing, lying on the bed of rock candy.
+
+One morning, all in the gray and quiet, Tot had a queer dream. She
+thought some one said, with a funny little catch in the voice: "Wake up,
+little Tot, mamma's treasure," and some one held her so tightly she
+could hardly breathe. And she opened her eyes and shut them again, quite
+dazzled; but she thought she saw papa and mamma standing beside her bed,
+and the room was all on fire it was so bright to two, poor, sleepy, baby
+eyes, and papa's voice seemed to say, a great way off:
+
+"Poor, little, sleepy Tot."
+
+It was such a queer dream, but not half so queer as what followed; for,
+after a while, she woke up and went right on dreaming just the same.
+That was very strange. How could it be anything else than a dream, to be
+taken up by gaslight and dressed all in her little street coat and hat
+before breakfast, to be made to drink milk and eat when she wasn't
+hungry, to be petted and cried over and half crushed in mamma's arms, to
+be taken by papa out into the cool, clear dawning, with the sky just
+beginning to flush like a sea shell and a waking bird or two to twitter
+about getting up, to be put into a coach that rolled and rumbled, to be
+put into something else that rolled and rumbled a thousand times worse;
+nothing had ever happened anything like this in any of Tot's waking
+hours before.
+
+After the sun had climbed up a little way into the sky, grown blue and
+bluer, Tot began to accept the situation a little, and lay very still in
+papa's arms (the fresh morning breeze tapping her cheek and lifting her
+long crimped hair with cool, gentle fingers), watching the fences
+running away like mad, the trees gliding gracefully by in long endless
+procession, little white cottages and funny little hovels, and pretty
+little villages hopping suddenly in and then as suddenly out of the
+scene, a glimpse into shady depths of woods, a glint of a blue,
+nestling, lily-pad-speckled pond, an emerald gleam of peaceful meadows,
+a sight at a snowy tethered goat, of dappled grazing cows, a roll and
+rush and roar through riven, dripping rocks.
+
+Papa told his little girl all about it. How little children in the town
+where Tot lived were very sick of a dangerous disease--diptheria. And
+how, coming home last evening from business and learning of several
+fresh cases, he had become alarmed for his darling and consulted mamma,
+and had succeeded in frightening her so thoroughly, that she had sat up
+all night to get Tot's things ready so that she might start the very
+next morning, on the very first early morning train, to where grandmamma
+lived.
+
+"And, there," said papa, after they had ridden all the long forenoon,
+"there's Sugar River, Tot, where I used to fish when I was a boy!"
+
+"O!" cried Tot, and then, immediately, with a roll and a pitch, they
+came to a little white farmhouse and stopped again, and Tot was at
+grandmamma's.
+
+Tot didn't like being kissed quite so much all at a time, if it was by a
+grandmamma. The chickens, though, were fascinating, and as for some
+plushy round balls of yellow fuzz, rolling about--little ducks just
+hatched--Tot had never seen anything at all to compare with them. But
+there was a dreadful and discordant procession of big ducks that struck
+terror to Tot's soul, and it was very still and lonely when the night
+and dark crept on. The crickets and the frogs did their best, but they
+only made it stiller and lonelier; and the hills gleamed against the
+sky, and Tot missed her mamma. But yet, Tot was very sleepy, and the
+next she knew it was morning and she was at grandma's, where Uncle Will
+lived, and Uncle Will was coming pretty soon, and, better than that,
+mamma was coming, too; and there was a little girl, a short distance up
+the road, whom Tot was to play with, and then there were the chickens
+and the ducks, and old Brindle and the pigs, and the pony and the hay
+cart, and--yes, it was very delightful at grandmamma's.
+
+Once or twice, during the next few days, Tot asked--preserving that
+singular reticence regarding her illusions, so common to children--to be
+taken to Sugar River; but grandpapa was busy haying, and grandmamma
+said:
+
+"Will will come pretty soon and he will take you."
+
+"When _is_ pwetty soon!" asked Tot, in hopeless tones.
+
+One afternoon grandmamma gave Tot and Susie (that was the name of Tot's
+little playmate) each a fat hot jumble, and left them playing happily in
+the yard while she went back to her sewing. Susie was seven, so very
+safe company for little four-year-old Tot. After a while over ran
+Susie's brother, to summon her home to go with her mother to the
+village.
+
+Tot stood at the gate, looking down the long road. Sturdy maples threw
+curving, interlacing boughs across, through which the sun-light filtered
+and flickered. How cool and shady it was! Tot all at once felt the
+little sunny yard grow hot and stupid, and then Susie's mamma drove out
+of the gate and down the long shady arch over the sun-flecked road. Tot
+wished she was going to the village, too. Tot wished she was going
+to--to--Sugar River.
+
+
+[Illustration: ON THE WAY TO SUGAR RIVER.]
+
+
+"Run in to grandmamma, little Tot," whispered the still small voice. But
+Tot never heeded. Tot was tired. Tot was hot. Tot was homesick. Tot
+would walk down the road just a few little steps. What harm? How
+delightful! How grateful the cool green shade! How alluring the long
+level stretch of road under the arching maples! Where did it lead? It
+led--O, Tot knew--it led to Sugar River.
+
+Step by step, a little and a little further on the tiny white figure
+glanced. A sense of happy freedom possessed the little girl. A cloud of
+golden butterflies beckoned on before. Here a dark thread of water crept
+down over the hills and splashed musically into the great stone trough.
+All the way an invisible brooklet gurgled and kept her company. Only one
+bird seemed to sing at a time--first one, then another. Wasn't it
+charming? And at the end of it all must be--Tot could see it now in
+fancy--the fluttering blue ribbon uncurling between sunny sloping
+banks--SUGAR RIVER--fast asleep under the summer sun, on its glittering
+bed of rock candy. O, rapture! Tot's mouth watered for its sugary
+delights.
+
+On and on and on, with the brook and the butterflies and the welcoming
+bird. On, till the maples stopped and could go no further, and so she
+left them behind. Out into the open sun-light she came, and only the
+long, hot, and dazzling road stretched on before.
+
+Tot's small feet trudged on, steadily. Just a little further on--Tot was
+sure--and then--But how long the road grew, how deep the dust lay, how
+tired the little feet were getting, little feet that can trudge about
+all day long in play, yet drag so wearily over long straight roads.
+
+"I sood fink I would tum to Soogar Wiver pwetty soon," she sighed.
+
+At last she came to where some cross-roads met, and looking down one she
+saw the cool green shade again. Not maples this time, but close and
+clustering shrubbery.
+
+She left the brook gurgling "go-oo-oo-d-by," and the butterflies waving
+adieu with their golden wings, and went on alone. How sweet and still it
+was here! The tall grass drooped over two brown beaten paths that horses
+feet had worn, and a tender green light lay over all. But where was the
+sweet river hiding? Another meeting of cross roads. Tot looked this way,
+that. Ah, there it was over the road! Over the meadow. Gleaming,
+gliding, Sugar River, at last.
+
+"I fought I sood det to it pwetty soon," murmured Tot, triumphantly.
+"Won't dwandma be glad to get some nice sugar plums? I wis I tood det
+froo dis fence."
+
+Through she got, with much squeezing and rending. Tot eyed her torn
+pinafore, ruefully.
+
+"I wis' 'ittle dirl's aprons wouldn't teep tearing on every single
+fing."
+
+"'Pears to me," doubtfully, putting one little foot down on the soft
+marshy ground, "it is wather wet."
+
+Rather wet? Yes, Totchen, very wet. Too wet for such little little feet
+as yours. And see, little one, the sun is getting lower. Crawl back
+through the fence and run home. The sleepy murmuring river has nothing
+but trouble for you.
+
+But Tot stumbled on over the marshy ground.
+
+"I don't 'ike to go down so far," sighed Tot, drawing a little drenched
+boot up from a treacherous bog. "And my new boots is detting all wet."
+
+But Tot had a Spartan soul; and at last, beside the wonderful stream, on
+the beautiful shore she stood, and--poor, poor little Tot! The little
+pinafore torn, the pretty, trim boots soaked and soiled, all Tot's
+little body dragged and weary; yet, it isn't that that makes me say
+"poor little Tot!" It is to see her standing there at the goal of her
+childish hopes with such happy, radiant eyes, and know how soon will
+come to her that "saddest pain of all--to grasp the thing we long for
+and find how it can fail us."
+
+Up and down she walks, searching for sweetmeat pebbles and sugary
+stones, and when she finds none--the water running high and close to the
+grassy ground--she stoops and, dipping her little fingers, she lifts
+them, wet and dripping, to her longing lips.
+
+"It isn't _vewy_ sweet," she said.
+
+Poor little Tot! Down the stream she came to a ford, and the shallow
+water had left stones and pebbles bare. Big and little, and half size;
+white and yellow, and brown and gray.
+
+Here was richness at last. All in a minute Tot's little, nibbling,
+crunching teeth went on edge on a perverse, grating pebble that sternly
+refused to be nibbled or crunched. Another and another and another she
+tried.
+
+"Pwobably," she thought, "they has to be cwacked dus 'ike nuts." And she
+proceeded to crack, not the stones, but her own little, eager,
+blundering fingers, instead. O stony, stony-hearted stones and
+pebbly-hearted pebbles! Tot's cup of bitterness seemed to flow over. She
+stood up, sobbing. A sudden sense of desolation oppressed her.
+
+"I wis' I was at home wiv dwandma. I wis,' oh, I _wis'_ I hadn't tum!"
+she sobbed.
+
+Her only thought, now, was to get home. But, first, what do you think
+she did? She filled her bit of a pocket full of pebbles for grandmamma
+to crack; then the little weary feet stumbled back again over the weary
+way.
+
+"My feet's is detting so heavy," she sighed, "and I _fink_ I's detting
+tired."
+
+Tot was crying piteously now, and no one heard. All alone, mamma's baby,
+who had never been alone before in all her short cherished life. All
+alone with the croaking frogs and lonesome crickets. Hark! what was
+that? A roll of wheels and the clatter of a horse's hoofs.
+
+"Whoa!" called out a boy's shrill voice. Down to the ground dropped the
+owner of the voice. "What is the matter, little girl?"
+
+"I'se been to Soogar Wiver, and I don't know how to det home aden, I'se
+so vewy tired, and I toodn't cwack the candy, and I want to see
+dwandma," and Tot's words ended in a wail of inarticulate woe.
+
+"Where do you live?" asked the boy.
+
+"A dwate, dwate ways off," answered Tot.
+
+"What is your name?"
+
+"Tot Lindsay."
+
+"Lindsay? O, I know! All you've got to do is to jump into this wagon and
+have a nice ride, and, presently, we'll be there."
+
+And presently, in the gloaming, they stopped before grandpapa's house,
+and the boy, lifting out Tot in his arms, carried her to the door and
+bade her good-by, and, jumping into his wagon, rattled away. Empty and
+silent stood the little house, like the dwelling of the Three Talking
+Bears, and little Tot might have been Silver Hair herself.
+
+"Dwandma, dwandma!" she called. But no grandmamma replied.
+
+"Perhaps she has dus dorn out a minute," thought she. "I'll det up on
+dis lounge and tover dis shawl over me, and s'prise her when she tums
+back."
+
+Something else besides the shawl covered Tot's eyes. Down over the blue
+orbs drifted the snowy lids. Tired little Tot.
+
+Where was dwandma and the rest all this time? In trouble and confusion.
+Calling and searching, searching and calling: "Tot, Tot, Tot, little
+Tot! Where are you?" Grandpapa and grandmamma, and Uncle Will and Tot's
+mamma.
+
+At last, on the road running beside the river, they had found the
+fragment of dotted cambric, held fast by a detaining splinter; and then
+Tot's mamma had run ahead and led them across the meadow, right in the
+track of Tot's little feet, straight to the river. And then grandmamma
+had said, quaveringly, that Tot was always asking to go to Sugar River;
+and then Will's heart had given a great guilty throb, and sank way, way
+down. He knew so well _why_. And then Tot's mamma had thrown up her two
+hands, and darted towards a little string of coral beads and picked it
+up. And, as they stood there, the river's murmur seemed like the murmur
+of the river of death, and the white fog, beginning to rise, like the
+folds of a little child's shroud; and Tot's mamma threw up her hands
+again and fell among all the unfeeling stones and pebbles.
+
+Will ran all the way home and went straight to the barn and harnessed
+the horse, and then went into the house and into the sitting-room and
+snatched a shawl from the lounge, and--"Jerusalem Crickets!" was all he
+had breath enough left to say. Tot had surprised somebody, indeed.
+
+Down by the river, in the dusk and the river damp, as they waited, came
+Will, striding along with what looked like a bundle of old shawls upon
+his shoulder; and presently, parting the folds like the calyx of a
+flower, Tot's rosy face blossomed out.
+
+"Peekabo!" she said, with a sweet sound of laughter. "O mamma, mamma!"
+
+It was wonderful how quickly mamma recovered; and it was more wonderful
+still how ever Tot escaped sudden death, then and there, from
+suffocation. But, bless you! You need not worry, it was larks to Tot.
+
+What a triumphal procession home it was. Tot, in her little night-dress
+sat in her mother's lap, and told her adventures; and Will sat in the
+darkest corner and said not a word, but resolved that no story more
+fabulous than that of George Washington and his hatchet should ever
+again pass his lips. His lip quivered, as much as a boy's lip is ever
+allowed, when Tot said:
+
+"And I brought home a whole pottet full to cwack."
+
+"Never mind, to-night. Wait till to-morrow," said mamma.
+
+Tot went obediently to sleep, and woke in the morning to find beside her
+pillow, such lots of candy--her Sugar River candy she thought, all
+cracked and ready to eat.
+
+"It tastes dus 'ike any tandy," said Tot.
+
+They didn't tell her then, the illusion was so dear to her childish
+heart. But, when she was a little older, Tot laughed as long and as
+gleefully as anyone over the story of the little girl who went to Sugar
+River for sugar plums.
+
+
+
+
+A PIONEER "WIDE AWAKE."
+
+
+One event in the life of Jacob Lohr qualified him, in my opinion, to be
+mustered into the army of "Wide Awakes." Let me tell the children the
+incident and see if they agree with me.
+
+He was a native of the Mohawk Valley near Schenectady, New York, and
+when about twenty years old, with his young wife, Polly, emigrated to
+the wilds of Western Pennsylvania. This was more than seventy years ago,
+when the magnificent forests of that region afforded some of the finest
+hunting-grounds in America. Here Jacob began clearing a farm, built a
+log dwelling-house, planted corn and potatoes, and in a few years became
+a thriving pioneer.
+
+But the pride of his forest farm was his pigs. He had built a strong pen
+of logs, with a heavy door, in order to protect them in the night from
+wild animals. It stood about five rods from the house, near the brook,
+just across which, and not thirty feet from the sty, was the edge of the
+dense natural forest.
+
+During the day they were permitted to roam at large in the woods eating
+nuts, by which they fattened for the larder; but when night approached,
+they were called and zealously secured in the pen, a practice which soon
+taught the pigs the habit of early retiring. Gradually, however, Mr.
+Lohr's punctuality in this matter abated, until one evening it had
+become fairly dark ere he went to shut them in. As he walked down the
+beaten path, a rustling in the adjacent bushes made him think that the
+pigs might still be out; and to satisfy himself on the point, he entered
+the pen and felt around, saying as he did so, "One two, three--all
+here." Then as he turned to the door, he wondered what caused the
+rustling across the brook. But as he stooped to go out, his wonder was
+threateningly answered by a low growl from a dark crouching object, only
+two or three steps in front of him.
+
+With swift hands he closed the door, shutting himself in; and none too
+soon, for instantly a heavy animal leaped on the roof over his head and
+began fiercely scratching at the cover. At the same time a mewing at
+the door, and a snuffing at the side of the pen, showed him that he was
+a prisoner, with at least three panthers as his jailors. But unlike
+jailors generally, these were more eager to get their captive out than
+to keep him in; while the prisoner, instead of wishing to "break jail,"
+was anxious not to do so.
+
+All night long he was a "Wide Awake," as were also the pigs, for the
+panthers were growling and screaming, scratching and digging around and
+upon the pen, trying to tear it to pieces and seize the occupants.
+Although feverishly excited, he felt quite secure, because the sty was
+so substantially built.
+
+Yet such lodgings and neighbors, within and without, would not tend to
+produce very placid slumbers, even if the walls were cannon-proof.
+
+Various plans were tried by Polly, his wife, who had become aware of the
+situation, to drive away the creatures, but in vain.
+
+She held a torch where it shone toward the pen; she screamed through the
+narrow casement, and rattled a tin pan at the animals; but she did not
+know how to load and fire the gun; and as to going outside the door, it
+is doubtful if even the boldest hunter, well armed, would have dared so
+much at night, in the face of a whole family of hungry panthers.
+
+Meanwhile, Jacob kept up a lively interest among his jailors.
+
+Discovering that they had scratched at some of the larger cracks between
+the logs, until they could thrust in their noses, he peeled a piece of
+tough bark from the side of the pen, and began striking at them, giving
+them many stinging blows.
+
+And afterward, when relating the story, he would laugh heartily at
+remembering the sneezing, snarling and grumbling this occasioned.
+Although he had so much to keep him excited, the night seemed very long.
+
+At last, however, the daylight began to dawn, and he heard his jailors
+mewing and purring together as if in council, and then all was silent
+all around the pen.
+
+Half an hour later, Polly called to him that they were gone away.
+
+It was with extreme caution, however, that he opened the door a little
+and peered out.
+
+A panther is like a cat in slyness or cunning, watching stealthily for
+prey and springing upon it in the most unexpected way.
+
+And so, before he ventured out, he scanned with sharp eyes the edge of
+the woods across the brook; for he did not fancy being the mouse for
+these three great cats. Satisfying himself as well as he could, that
+the way was clear, he sprang forth, closed the door quickly behind him,
+and rushed for the house. But no panthers appeared; they had probably
+retired into the deep shadows of the hemlocks.
+
+His "Wide Awake" night was ended.
+
+Upon investigating the scene of the night's operations, he found the sty
+amazingly scratched and gnawed in many places, proving the strength of
+tooth and nail and the ferocity of his jailors. Several long deep gashes
+on one of the pigs showed where a panther had thrust in his paw by a
+crack and tried to seize a victim.
+
+But my story is only half told.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+An old adage says, "It is a poor rule that won't work both ways;" and so
+thought Jacob. He resolved in the morning, that if the creatures should
+come back the next night, as they would be quite apt to do, he would
+turn the tables and try to teach them the pleasure of being imprisoned
+in a pig-sty.
+
+Anybody who has lived in a region infested by carnivorous animals, knows
+how they prowl around the settler's cabin the night after any fat
+animal, cattle or swine is killed, for the meat. They snuff the blood
+from afar in the forest, and hasten to the place to have a tooth, or a
+paw, in the division of the spoils. Knowing this peculiarity of
+panthers, Jacob and Polly held a consultation, and as it was about time
+in the autumn to make pork of the pigs, they decided to perform that
+work during the day. The scent of blood would serve as a double
+inducement for his visitors to return.
+
+So, in the afternoon, the task was done, the pen and vicinity being the
+scene of the slaughter, and all the bloody tidbits placed inside the
+door. Every such thing was arranged to attract the animals into the sty
+if possible. The meat was placed safely in the garret of the house.
+
+The door of the pen was so constructed as to open and shut something
+like the lower sash of a window, by sliding up and down, a peg holding
+it open by day and closed by night. When the door was open, this peg had
+only to be pulled out, to let it shut down like a flash; and being shut
+no animal could open it. Jacob went along the brook and obtained a
+quantity of bark from the moosewood, (_Dirca palustris_,) of which he
+made a strong cord, long enough to reach from the pen to the house. One
+end of this he tied tightly to the peg that supported the door, and the
+other he made fast inside the house.
+
+When night came, he was ready for visitors.
+
+Stationing themselves at the window, he and Polly watched and listened.
+
+Hardly had it become dark, when they heard the mewing of the panthers at
+no great distance in the forest. Persons who are familiar only with the
+mewing of cats, have little idea how a panther's stronger, but similar
+voice will ring through the woods.
+
+In a little time they distinctly heard one of them leap upon the pen and
+begin scratching as the night before; and in a moment more, by the
+confined sound of purring and growling, it was evident they had entered
+the sty and were disputing over the morsels of meat.
+
+Then Jacob gave the bark cord a vigorous jerk and they heard the door
+drop.
+
+I suppose it would be impossible to describe the excitement of Polly and
+Jacob at this moment, but the girls and boys can imagine something of
+it.
+
+They did not dare to go out to see if they had caught the _panthers_,
+lest, having failed, the panthers might catch _them_.
+
+Before morning, however, they were sure enough that one or more was
+captured, for there was a great deal of smothered howling, just as it
+would sound from animals shut in a pen.
+
+Previous wakefulness made sleep necessary during most of the night, but
+at daybreak they were astir and at the casement to catch the first
+possible glimpse of the situation. As it became light enough, they
+discovered a huge, handsome panther stretched out on the roof of the
+pen, her head lying across her paws, like a cat asleep. By this they
+knew that others were confined inside, for whose escape this one was
+waiting. It was but a brief task for Jacob, who was a good marksman, to
+point his rifle through the window and give her its contents. Without a
+struggle the splendid animal straightened her powerful limbs and died.
+Reloading his gun, Jacob walked cautiously toward the pen, watching in
+every direction, lest there might be another one outside ready to spring
+upon him, but seeing none, he went up and peered through a crack.
+
+At once two pairs of eyes flashed at him, and fierce growls remonstrated
+against the state of affairs.
+
+Had Barnum flourished in those days, Jacob might have found a market for
+the animals alive, but as it was he regarded it safer to shoot them as
+quickly as possible, through a crevice between the logs.
+
+Upon placing the dead animals side by side near the house he discovered
+that they were mother and full-grown kittens, all very large and plump,
+with thick, glossy fur.
+
+I have only to add, that he was paid by the state a bounty of
+twenty-four dollars apiece for killing the panthers, which was quite a
+fortune for a pioneer in those days. Their red-brown skins, sewed
+together, made a larger and nicer lap-robe than the hide of any buffalo;
+and years after, with Jacob's children, I took many a sleigh-ride under
+this warm covering.
+
+All in favor of numbering Jacob among the "Wide Awakes," say _aye_!
+
+
+
+
+SURPRISED.
+
+
+I.
+
+"Mitz" began to cry piteously. "Mieu--mieu--mi-e-e," he cried, and all
+little Hannah's trotting only made him worse. At that moment "Mitz" was
+wrapped in a pillow-case, while his head was buried in Hannah's little
+shawl. His ears were pulled down, and his promising tail was all in a
+heap, and his resplendent moustache was crushed. Therefore was it a
+wonder that Mitz howled most dolefully? It is not necessary to say that
+Mitz was a kitten.
+
+Mitz's mother was sitting in a corner of the fire-place, with tail
+neatly curled about her paws. Three of Mitz's brothers and sisters were
+lost somewhere in the shadow about her, and two others the children had
+put to bed.
+
+It was a queer old room in an old German house; a room large and dim,
+with two great windows full of diamond-shaped panes, and on the
+opposite side a huge chimney with a tall, narrow mantel-shelf and a
+tiled hearth, on which stood two brass griffins, shiny and ferocious. In
+the depths in the fire-place, behind the griffins, there Mitz was
+sobbing. I say sobbing because the children were playing "house," and
+Mitz was supposed to be the baby. What a fine play-house this big
+fire-place was in summer! It had in turn figured as Aladdin's cave and a
+school-house; a brigand ambush, and a dwelling with modern improvements.
+But now it was growing dark in the big, bare room, and you had to look
+closely into the back of the hearth to see the two little figures--one
+trotting the baby, and the other rocking the doll's cradle in which two
+of Mitz's sisters were tied with cord, for their good, of course. But
+Mitz's piteous cries raised echoes.
+
+"Mieu, mieu!" cried Mitz, trying to claw something under the pillow
+case. "Mieu, mieu!" chimed in Mitz's sisters, while little Hannah
+trotted desperately, and the doll's cradle was rocked as if by a small
+tempest.
+
+
+[Illustration: HE WOULDN'T EAT HIS BREAD AND MILK.]
+
+
+"It's no use," said little Hannah, in great perplexity; "all people's
+children arn't always bad! Mitz--you wicked Mitz!" And she shook that
+badly-behaved child. "He's been crying ever since we began to play. He
+wouldn't eat his bread and milk, though I tied on his best new bib. Oh,
+dear me, Mrs. Liseke, how noisy your children are! Suppose," said little
+Hannah, vainly endeavoring to pacify the indignant Mitz, "suppose, Mrs.
+Liseke, we take the children out for a walk?"
+
+Out of the hearth crept Hannah, with Mitz hugged to her heart, and her
+short, round figure all the rounder for an ancient shawl and a venerable
+cap perched on the top of her plump, rosy face. Hannah had just passed
+the brass griffins, when some one burst into the room. There was a
+vision of two long stockings with a hole in one knee, a faded velveteen
+suit, a pair of brass-tipped boots, a bright patch in the seat of the
+short breeches, and a look of triumph on a round face with a turn-up
+nose, while a grin, extending from ear to ear, discovered a loss of
+several front teeth in the big mouth.
+
+"Max, how you frightened me!" cried Hannah; then, "oh, Maxy, what's the
+matter?" Mitz was forgotten; he gave a leap, shawl and pillow-case, and
+before Hannah could prevent, had crept out of his bandages and was
+standing a free cat, with arched back and a defiant tail. By this time
+Mrs. Liseke had come out of the fire-place with her two youngest in her
+arms. She was elegantly dressed in a bed-sheet, which trailed behind her
+and was gracefully tied under her chin. Mitz's mother followed,
+stretching all-fours luxuriously.
+
+No, Max wouldn't tell. He plunged two black hands in his breeches'
+pockets and made up faces and danced a wild war dance, while Mitz and
+family fled into various corners.
+
+"Why don't you slap him?" pouted Liseke.
+
+"No," little Hannah said, wisely. "He likes cookies." Coaxingly: "Maxy
+dear, won't you tell?"
+
+"No, you bet I won't! you're nothing but girls."
+
+"Is it a surprise, Max?" Hannah suggested, anxiously.
+
+"Won't tell yer," contemplating his brass-tipped toes.
+
+"Maxy, I'll give you a big cookey if you'll tell."
+
+"You nasty thing, I don't want a cookey."
+
+"Maxy: two? three--four--five--six--there! now you'll tell?"
+
+"Give 'em first," said this practical boy, apparently conquered.
+
+Six noble cookies were counted into his hand.
+
+"Now I won't tell yer at all. It's a surprise! Father said I wasn't to
+tell," he cried, scornfully, with his mouth full.
+
+"Oh, Haneke, papa's going to surprise us! Now I know what it is!" Liseke
+whispered excitedly "It is a piano, and perhaps--perhaps a stool. Try
+and find out from Max."
+
+"Maxy, dear," Hannah said, imploringly, "is it covered with plush?"
+
+"Why, how do you know?" Max cried, unguardedly, as he was finishing his
+sixth cookey.
+
+"I knew it, I knew it," Liseke gasped, wildly.
+
+"Does it make a noise if, well, say, if you bang on it?" Hannah cried,
+with a beating heart.
+
+"Why--why--yes," Max acknowledged, wrathfully, with a futile kick at
+Mitz's mother, who was purring about his legs. "There, you mean thing,
+you're always trying to find out something! Just you wait till I tell
+yer anything more!" he cried, and slam-banged himself out of the room,
+with his bosom full of suppressed injuries.
+
+"He was mad because we guessed," Liseke cried, joyfully.
+
+"A piano!" Hannah gasped, as the door went to with a crash.
+
+"A stool," Liseke added; then, "Let's tell mamma!"
+
+That dear, gentle mother, sitting by the dim window trying to mend by
+the last flicker of daylight! She looked up lovingly as the door flew
+open.
+
+"Mamma," gasped Hannah, "papa's got a surprise for us."
+
+"Max said so," chimed in the other. "We've guessed, mother dear."
+
+"It's a piano."
+
+"And--and a stool."
+
+
+[Illustration: MAX KNOWS OF A SURPRISE.]
+
+
+"He said it'ud make a noise; and was covered with plush."
+
+"O, dear children, surely papa wouldn't buy you a piano. He can not
+afford it," and two kind hands were stretched out to the children.
+
+"Oh, yes it is," the two cried hopefully.
+
+"You know, mamma, papa's always promised us a surprise, and he's never
+done it yet!" Hannah cried, and laid her round cheek against the
+delicate, pale face.
+
+There was no use arguing; the children were convinced. They were sure of
+the piano.
+
+"There, mamma, didn't we tell you so," they cried, as Max came in,
+mysterious and exasperating.
+
+"Father says the surprise will be ready for you to-morrow afternoon at
+three o'clock in the sitting room," he cried, and was gone, leaving a
+momentary vision of a bright patch in the seat of his breeches.
+
+"Poor child," thought the little mother, regretfully; "he is all in
+rags--I wish I had some money!" with a patient sigh.
+
+"There, mamma, we told you so! It'll stand by the window in the corner
+of the sitting-room," two excited voices cried, and the next moment the
+sitting-room was invaded by two small figures who looked at the empty
+corner by the window with delicious expectancy; and so the day went
+slowly by.
+
+In another room the little mother looked at her husband wistfully.
+"Karl," she began, timidly, "have you really prepared a surprise for the
+children? You won't disappoint them?"
+
+"Betty, don't say a word! Wait! Did I ever disappoint you?"
+
+Betty turned away with a half-suppressed sigh, while papa Karl strode up
+and down the room grandly, virtuously, with a good deal of injured
+innocence in his face.
+
+
+II.
+
+The great day had come. Hannah and Liseke hadn't slept a wink all night.
+
+Mitz and family had come purring into the room in the early morning, as
+usual, but had been shamefully neglected. All six sat in a row by the
+bedside, watching indignantly the two heads peeping out from the
+feathers.
+
+"To-day!" Hannah sighed rapturously.
+
+How they got into their clothes, they never knew.
+
+As for eating! why, they couldn't touch the delicious rolls, the glasses
+of milk, even that delicious preserve, "Apfel-kraut."
+
+Max alone was himself, and, in his injured way, managed to eat enough
+for three. Yet, he was not satisfied; at the age of eight life had few
+attractions left for him.
+
+Who could believe that a September day would be so long? Or that the old
+clock in the hall would go so ridiculously slow? There was a quiet
+jocularity in the motion of its long pendulum, as if it were laughing
+bitterly that anyone could be in a hurry. "Ha! ha! ha!" ticked the
+clock.
+
+"Oh, dear!" Hannah said with a sigh, "will it never be three?"
+
+How they kept their ears open to hear a crowd of men come stumbling up
+the stone steps with the weight of the piano!
+
+"Perhaps it is already here," Liseke said, faintly.
+
+"Perhaps it's coming," Hannah suggested, hopefully.
+
+"One--two--three--," the clock struck.
+
+"Come, mamma!" the children cried; and so they opened the sitting-room
+door with trembling hands.
+
+Nobody there; nothing there. Mamma sat down in a corner and began
+knitting, while the children looked out of the window into the narrow
+street to see a wagon drive up to the house.
+
+"Perhaps they've forgotten all about it," Liseke was saying tremulously,
+when the sitting-room door burst open and there stood Max and behind
+him, papa Karl.
+
+"Oh, Max, Max, where's the surprise?" the children implored.
+
+"Why, don't you see!" Max cried, mightily injured, and turning himself
+about disclosed his small person arrayed in a new velveteen suit
+brilliant with brass buttons.
+
+"Oh--dear--dear," sobbed little Hannah with the tears rolling down, "we
+thought it was a piano!'
+
+"Did I say it was a piano?" Max howled.
+
+"You said it--it--was--was--covered with pl--plush," Liseke sobbed.
+
+"Well, isn't it?"
+
+"And--and you said it 'ud make a noise if one b--banged on it," Hannah
+cried, piteously.
+
+"Well, see if it don't!" Max shrieked, when papa Karl's hand came down
+upon him with such superb effect there was no doubting the truth of the
+assertion.
+
+"Ungrateful children, you are never satisfied," papa Karl cried
+majestically. "No matter what I do for you, you're always ungrateful--"
+
+
+[Illustration: THE SHAMEFULLY NEGLECTED SIX.]
+
+
+"But Karl," mamma Betty interrupted, with quiet decision, in the midst
+of a storm of sobs, "you can't expect the children to be very much
+delighted because Max gets a new suit--something necessary."
+
+"And it's so tight I can't breathe," Max cried, goaded to frenzy by the
+general grief.
+
+"Ingrates!" gasped papa Karl, and strode up and down the room, while
+Liseke sobbed her grief out on mamma's shoulder, and Max hid his face in
+her lap, and Hannah was bravely trying to dry her brown eyes.
+
+"Karl, they are children," mamma Betty said: softly patting Max's head;
+then lifting it up gently; "Max, go to the confectioners." Max sprang to
+his feet as a war-horse at the sound of a trumpet.
+
+"Here are ten groschens;"--mamma Betty took them out of her scanty purse
+with something of a sigh;--"buy as much cake and whatever you like.
+Liseke tell Marie to make a pitcher of chocolate instantly. My little
+Hannah, you may set the table."
+
+"Oh, mamma, may I put on the pretty china cups and saucers?" Hannah
+pleaded, as Max and Liseke bounded out of the room.
+
+"Yes, but be careful, my dear."
+
+"Chocolate!" said papa Karl with some scorn, "bribing them for the sake
+of peace."
+
+They were children, she said. Had papa Karl forgotten that he, too, had
+once been a child?
+
+Papa Karl had forgotten this trifling circumstance but he magnanimously
+declared he forgave them all.
+
+There was a pattering of feet down the entry, and three tear-stained
+faces looked timidly in.
+
+"The chocolate is on the table," Hannah said bravely, with only one tiny
+sob. Then the door closed and the little feet patted down the corridor.
+
+"Come Karl, and drink a cup of chocolate. You need it as much as the
+children, for you were disappointed also. You thought to give them a
+pleasure, you mistaken man," mamma Betty said with a little smile.
+
+"I really meant to," said Karl, quite softened.
+
+Mamma Betty was just opening the door, when she suddenly paused.
+
+"Karl," she said quite seriously, "will you promise me one thing?"
+
+"Yes, my dear."
+
+"Never surprise us again; surprises always end in disappointments."
+
+"Well, Betty I promise," papa Karl said hurriedly, and he kept his word.
+So years after, when papa Karl's purse was a good deal fuller, and a
+piano did make its appearance, it was welcomed solemnly, as something
+long and rapturously expected.
+
+
+
+
+APRIL FOOLS AND OTHER FOOLS.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+The custom of playing a joke upon one's neighbor upon the First of April
+is of very ancient origin, dating so far back in the past that we are
+unable to tell just when or with what nation it had its birth.
+
+There was a time, very many years ago, when the year began on the
+twenty-fifth of March. Then, as now, New Years' was a great feast of the
+Church; and as the First of April was what was termed the _octave_--that
+is, the eighth day after the commencement of the feast--it has been
+thought that the feast which terminated upon that day closed in
+April-fooling. In support of this theory we find that the Catholic
+Church, at one time in its early history, observed an annual feast
+called "The Feast of the Ass." The day upon which this feast was held
+answers to our sixth of January, which now is called "Twelfth-Day." The
+day was devoted to merry-making, masquerading, jesting, and to fun in
+general.
+
+Among the Hindoos there is a feast which is still observed, called the
+"Huli," which, continuing several days, terminates on the thirty-first
+of March. One of the distinctive features of this feast is, that every
+one endeavors to send his neighbor upon some errand to some imaginary
+person, or to persons whom he knows are not at home; and then all enjoy
+a good laugh at the disappointment of the messenger. The observance of
+this custom by this peculiar people seems to indicate that it had a very
+early origin among mankind. In fact, it is not impossible that the
+manner in which the day is observed by us may have been suggested by
+some pagan custom. But whatever or whenever its origin may have been, we
+find it so widely prevalent over the earth, and with so very near a
+coincidence of day, as to be proof of its great antiquity.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+The observance of April Fools' Day is a very popular one in France, and
+we find traces of it there at a much earlier period than we do in
+England. It is related that Francis, Duke of Lorraine, and his wife,
+having been confined at Nantes as prisoners, successfully made their
+escape on the First of April. Taking advantage of this day, when they
+knew the guards would be upon the lookout lest some joke should be
+played upon them, they disguised themselves as peasants, the Duke
+carrying a hod upon his shoulder, and his wife bearing a basket of
+rubbish upon her back. Thus disguised, they passed through the gates of
+the city at an early hour of the day. There was one person, however, who
+guessed their secret. This was a woman who was an enemy of the Duke and
+his wife, and she at once resolved that they should not thus escape. She
+therefore hastened to one of the guards and told him of the escape of
+the prisoners. But the soldier only regarded it as an attempt to play a
+joke upon him, and at once cried out "April Fool!" to let the woman know
+that he had not forgotten what day it was. Hearing the soldier call out
+this, the rest of the guard, led by their sergeant, shouted "April
+Fool!" until the woman was forced to retire without being able to
+accomplish her errand. When at last it was learned that she had told
+them the truth, it was too late, the Duke and his wife having made good
+their escape.
+
+In France, the person who is April-fooled is called _poisson d'Avril_.
+Upon a certain occasion a French lady stole a watch from a friend on the
+First of April. The theft having been discovered, and the lady accused
+of having taken the watch, she endeavored to pass off the affair as _un
+poisson d'Avril_.
+
+Having denied that the watch was in her possession, her rooms were
+searched, and the missing article found upon a chimney-piece. When shown
+the watch the thief coolly replied: "Yes; I think I have made the
+messenger a fine _poisson d'Avril_."
+
+However, the magistrate ordered that she be confined in prison until the
+First of April following, "_comme un poisson d' Avril_."
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+In England, the custom of April-fooling is practiced very much as it is
+in the United States. "A knowing boy will despatch a younger brother to
+see a public statue descend from its pedestal at a particular appointed
+hour. A crew of giggling servant-maids will get hold of some simple
+swain, and send him to a bookseller's shop for the 'History of Eve's
+Grandmother,' or to a chemist's for a pennyworth of 'pigeon's milk,' or
+to the cobbler's for a little '_strap_-oil,' in which last case the
+messenger secures a hearty application of the strap to his shoulders,
+and is sent home in a state of bewilderment as to what the affair means.
+The urchins in the street make a sport of calling to some passing beau
+to look to his coat-skirts; when he either finds them with a piece of
+paper pinned to them or not; in either of which cases he is saluted as
+an 'April-fool!'"
+
+
+[Illustration: FIRST OF APRIL DANGER.]
+
+
+It has been said that "what compound is to simple addition, so is Scotch
+to English April-fooling." The people living in Scotland are not content
+with making a neighbor believe some single piece of absurdity, but
+practice jokes upon him _ad infinitum_. Having found some unsuspecting
+person, the individual playing the joke sends him away with a letter to
+some friend residing two or three miles off, for the professed purpose
+of asking for some useful information, or requesting a loan of some
+article, while in reality the letter contains only the words:
+
+    "This is the first day of April,
+    Hunt the gowk another mile."
+
+The person to whom the letter is sent at once catches the idea of the
+person sending it, and informs the carrier with a very grave face that
+he is unable to grant his friend the favor asked, but if he will take a
+second note to Mr. So-and-so, he will get what was wanted. The obliging,
+yet unsuspecting carrier receives the note, and trudges off to the
+person designated, only to be treated by him in the same manner; and so
+he goes from one to another, until some one, taking pity on him, gives
+him a gentle hint of the trick that has been practiced upon him. A
+successful affair of this kind will furnish great amusement to an
+entire neighborhood for a week at a time, during which time the person
+who has been victimized can hardly show his face. The Scotch employ the
+term "gowk" to express a fool in general, but more especially an April
+fool; and among them the practice which we have described is called
+"hunting the gowk."
+
+Sometimes the First of April has been employed by persons wishing to
+perpetrate an extensive joke upon society. Among those which have come
+to our knowledge the most remarkable one occurred in the city of London
+in 1860. Towards the close of March a large number of persons received
+through the post-office a card upon which the following was printed:
+
+                "TOWER OF LONDON.
+
+            ADMIT THE BEARER AND FRIEND
+
+                   to view the
+
+     ANNUAL CEREMONY OF WASHING THE WHITE LIONS,
+
+                       on
+
+              SUNDAY, APRIL 1ST, 1860.
+
+         _Admitted only at the White Gate._
+
+         *       *       *       *       *
+
+     It is particularly requested that no gratuities be
+     given to the wardens or their assistants."
+
+To give the card an official appearance, there was a seal placed at one
+corner of it, marked by an inverted sixpence. There were but few persons
+receiving the cards who saw through the trick, and hence it was highly
+successful. As soon as the first streaks of gray were seen in the east,
+cabs began to rattle about Tower Hill, and continued to do so all that
+Sunday morning, vainly endeavoring to discover the "White Gate," the
+joke being that there was no such gate.
+
+In the United States the greater part of the attention which is paid to
+April Fools' Day comes from children. In cities, especially, it is made
+much of by the "street Arabs," who watch every opportunity to play some
+trick upon every countryman whom they chance to see. Although we may
+laugh at jokes which are played upon All-Fools' Day, yet the greater
+part of them are unjust and improper, and it would be much better were
+they left undone.
+
+While speaking of April fools we are reminded of the Wise Fools of
+Gotham, and are constrained to tell our young readers about them in this
+connection. Gotham is a village in Nottinghamshire, in England. At one
+time, when King John and his retinue were marching towards the village,
+the people learned that he intended to pass through Gotham meadow. Now
+the ground over which a king passed became forever after a public
+highway, and should they suffer the king to pass through their meadow
+the villagers saw that they would lose it.
+
+
+[Illustration: DROWNING THE EEL.]
+
+
+This they resolved not to do, and therefore devised a plan which caused
+the king to pass another way. When the king learned what had been done
+he was very angry, and at once sent messengers to inquire why they had
+been so rude, intending, no doubt, to punish them for what they had
+done. When the Gothamites learned of the approach of the messengers they
+were as anxious to escape punishment as they had been to save their
+meadow. They immediately came together and agreed upon a plan by which
+to save themselves. They at once set about carrying their plans into
+effect, and when the king's messengers arrived they found some of the
+inhabitants endeavoring to drown an eel in a pond; some dragging their
+carts and wagons to the top of a barn to shade the wood from the sun's
+rays; some tumbling cheeses down a hill in the expectation that they
+would find their way to Nottingham Market, and some were employed in
+hedging in a cuckoo which had perched upon an old bush. Seeing men
+engaged in such employments as these the king's servants were convinced
+that the villagers were all fools, and quite unworthy the king's notice.
+The villagers, however, seeing that they had outwitted the king,
+considered themselves wise. To the present day a "cuckoo bush" stands
+upon the spot where it is said that the inhabitants of Gotham endeavored
+to hedge in the bird.
+
+There is another class of Fools which deserve mention. These are called
+Court Fools or Jesters. Until within a comparatively short time ago,
+every king had his Jester, whose duty it was to furnish mirth and
+merriment for the royal household. The real Court Fool was in reality a
+fool by birth, while a Jester was a _pretended_ fool. The former was
+dressed in "a parti-colored dress, including a cowl, which ended in a
+cock's-head, and was winged with a couple of long ears; he, moreover,
+carried in his hand a stick called his bauble, terminating either in an
+inflated bladder or some other ludicrous object, to be employed in
+slapping inadvertent neighbors."
+
+
+[Illustration: SAVING THE SHINGLES.]
+
+
+On the other hand, the Jester selected his clothes not only with a view
+to their grotesqueness but also with an eye to their richness. While the
+real fool "haunted the kitchen and scullery, messing almost with the
+dogs, and liable, when malapert, to a whipping," the pretended fool was
+comparatively a companion to the sovereign who engaged his services.
+Berdic, the Jester of the Court of William the Conqueror, for instance,
+was considered of so great importance that three towns and five
+carucates were conferred upon him.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CONNOR MAGAN'S LUCK AND OTHER
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