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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of International Short Stories, by Various
+
+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: International Short Stories
+       American
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: William Patten
+
+Release Date: June 16, 2010 [EBook #32845]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INTERNATIONAL SHORT STORIES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Al Haines
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Frontispiece: Anna Katharine Green]
+
+
+
+
+
+INTERNATIONAL SHORT STORIES
+
+
+EDITED BY
+
+WILLIAM PATTEN
+
+
+  A NEW COLLECTION OF
+  FAMOUS EXAMPLES
+  FROM THE LITERATURES
+  OF ENGLAND, FRANCE
+  AND AMERICA
+
+
+
+AMERICAN
+
+
+
+P F COLLIER &  SON
+
+NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+Copyright, 1910
+
+BY P. F. COLLIER & SON
+
+
+The use of the copyrighted stories in this collection has been
+authorized in each case by their authors or by their representatives.
+
+
+
+
+AMERICAN STORIES
+
+
+THE PROPHETIC PICTURES . . . . . . . . . . . .  By Nathaniel Hawthorne
+
+THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW  . . . . . . . . . .  By Washington Irving
+
+THE GOLD-BUG . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  By Edgar Allan Poe
+
+CORPORAL FLINT'S MURDER  . . . . . . . . . . . . By J. Fenimore Cooper
+  (From "The Oak Openings")
+
+UNCLE JIM AND UNCLE BILLY  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . By Bret Harte
+
+THE NOTARY OF PERIGUEUX  . . . . . . . . . . . . . By H. W. Longfellow
+
+THE WIDOW'S CRUISE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . By F. R. Stockton
+
+THE COUNT AND THE WEDDING QUEST  . . . . . . . . . . . . . By O. Henry
+
+MISS TOOKER'S WEDDING GIFT . . . . . . . . . .  By John Kendrick Bangs
+
+THE FABLE OF THE TWO MANDOLIN PLAYERS AND
+  THE WILLING PERFORMER  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . By George Ade
+
+THE FABLE OF THE PREACHER WHO FLEW HIS KITE,
+  BUT NOT BECAUSE HE WISHED TO DO SO . . . . . . . . . . By George Ade
+
+THE SHADOWS ON THE WALL  . . . . . . . . .  By Mary E. Wilkins Freeman
+
+MAJOR PERDUE'S BARGAIN . . . . . . . . . . . . By Joel Chandler Harris
+
+A KENTUCKY CINDERELLA  . . . . . . . . . . . . . By F. Hopkinson Smith
+
+BY THE WATERS OF PARADISE  . . . . . . . . . . . By F. Marion Crawford
+
+A MEMORABLE NIGHT  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . By Anna Katharine Green
+
+THE MAN FROM RED DOG . . . . . . . . . . . . . . By Alfred Henry Lewis
+
+JEAN MICHAUD'S LITTLE SHIP . . . . . . . . .  By Charles G. D. Roberts
+
+THOSE OLD LUNES! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . By W. Gilmore Simms
+
+THE CHIROPODIST  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  By Bayard Taylor
+
+"MR. DOOLEY ON CORPORAL PUNISHMENT"  . . . . . . . . .  By F. P. Dunne
+
+OVER A WOOD FIRE . . . . . . . . . . . Donald G. Mitchell--"Ik Marvel"
+
+
+
+
+THE PROPHETIC PICTURES[1]
+
+By NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE
+
+[1] This story was suggested by an anecdote of Stuart, related in
+Dunlap's "History of the Arts of Design"--a most entertaining book to
+the general reader, and a deeply interesting one, we should think, to
+the artist.
+
+
+"But this painter!" cried Walter Ludlow, with animation.  "He not only
+excels in his peculiar art, but possesses vast acquirements in all
+other learning and science.  He talks Hebrew with Dr. Mather, and gives
+lectures in anatomy to Dr. Boylston.  In a word, he will meet the best
+instructed man among us, on his own ground.  Moreover, he is a polished
+gentleman--a citizen of the world--yes, a true cosmopolite; for he will
+speak like a native of each clime and country on the globe, except our
+own forests, whither he is now going.  Nor is all this what I most
+admire in him."
+
+"Indeed!" said Elinor, who had listened with a woman's interest to the
+description of such a man.  "Yet this is admirable enough."
+
+"Surely it is," replied her lover, "but far less so than his natural
+gift of adapting himself to every variety of character, insomuch that
+all men--and all women too, Elinor--shall find a mirror of themselves
+in this wonderful painter.  But the greatest wonder is yet to be told."
+
+"Nay, if he have more wonderful attributes than these," said Elinor,
+laughing, "Boston is a perilous abode for the poor gentleman.  Are you
+telling me of a painter, or a wizard?"
+
+"In truth," answered he, "that question might be asked much more
+seriously than you suppose.  They say that he paints not merely a man's
+features, but his mind and heart.  He catches the secret sentiments and
+passions, and throws them upon the canvas, like sunshine--or perhaps,
+in the portraits of dark-souled men, like a gleam of infernal fire.  It
+is an awful gift," added Walter, lowering his voice from its tone of
+enthusiasm.  "I shall be almost afraid to sit to him."
+
+"Walter, are you in earnest?" exclaimed Elinor.
+
+"For Heaven's sake, dearest Elinor, do not let him paint the look which
+you now wear," said her lover, smiling, though rather perplexed.
+"There: it is passing away now, but when you spoke you seemed
+frightened to death, and very sad besides.  What were you thinking of?"
+
+"Nothing, nothing," answered Elinor, hastily.  "You paint my face with
+your own fantasies.  Well, come for me to-morrow, and we will visit
+this wonderful artist."
+
+But when the young man had departed, it cannot be denied that a
+remarkable expression was again visible on the fair and youthful face
+of his mistress.  It was a sad and anxious look, little in accordance
+with what should have been the feelings of a maiden on the eve of
+wedlock.  Yet Walter Ludlow was the chosen of her heart.
+
+"A look!" said Elinor to herself.  "No wonder that it startled him, if
+it expressed what I sometimes feel.  I know, by my own experience, how
+frightful a look may be.  But it was all fancy.  I thought nothing of
+it at the time--I have seen nothing of it since--I did but dream it."
+
+And she busied herself about the embroidery of a ruff, in which she
+meant that her portrait should be taken.
+
+The painter of whom they had been speaking was not one of those native
+artists who, at a later period than this, borrowed their colors from
+the Indians, and manufactured their pencils of the furs of wild beasts.
+Perhaps, if he could have revoked his life and prearranged his destiny,
+he might have chosen to belong to that school without a master, in the
+hope of being at least original, since there were no works of art to
+imitate, nor rules to follow.  But he had been born and educated in
+Europe.  People said that he had studied the grandeur or beauty of
+conception, and every touch of the master-hand, in all the most famous
+pictures, in cabinets and galleries, and on the walls of churches, till
+there was nothing more for his powerful mind to learn.  Art could add
+nothing to its lessons, but Nature might.  He had therefore visited a
+world whither none of his professional brethren had preceded him, to
+feast his eyes on visible images that were noble and picturesque, yet
+had never been transferred to canvas.  America was too poor to afford
+other temptations to an artist of eminence, though many of the colonial
+gentry, on the painter's arrival, had expressed a wish to transmit
+their lineaments to posterity by means of his skill.  Whenever such
+proposals were made, he fixed his piercing eyes on the applicant, and
+seemed to look him through and through.  If he beheld only a sleek and
+comfortable visage, though there were a gold-laced coat to adorn the
+picture, and golden guineas to pay for it, he civilly rejected the task
+and the reward.  But if the face were the index of anything uncommon,
+in thought, sentiment, or experience; or if he met a beggar in the
+street, with a white beard and a furrowed brow; or if sometimes a child
+happened to look up and smile; he would exhaust all the art on them
+that he denied to wealth.
+
+Pictorial skill being so rare in the colonies, the painter became an
+object of general curiosity.  If few or none could appreciate the
+technical merit of his productions, yet there were points in regard to
+which the opinion of the crowd was as valuable as the refined judgment
+of the amateur.  He watched the effect that each picture produced on
+such untutored beholders, and derived profit from their remarks, while
+they would as soon have thought of instructing Nature herself as him
+who seemed to rival her.  Their admiration, it must be owned, was
+tinctured with the prejudices of the age and country.  Some deemed it
+an offence against the Mosaic law, and even a presumptuous mockery of
+the Creator, to bring into existence such lively images of His
+creatures.  Others, frightened at the art which could raise phantoms at
+will, and keep the form of the dead among the living, were inclined to
+consider the painter as a magician, or perhaps the famous Black Man, of
+old witch-times, plotting mischief in a new guise.  These foolish
+fancies were more than half believed among the mob.  Even in superior
+circles, his character was invested with a vague awe, partly rising
+like smoke-wreaths from the popular superstitions, but chiefly caused
+by the varied knowledge and talents which he made subservient to his
+profession.
+
+Being on the eve of marriage, Walter Ludlow and Elinor were eager to
+obtain their portraits, as the first of what, they doubtless hoped,
+would be a long series of family pictures.  The day after the
+conversation above recorded, they visited the painter's rooms.  A
+servant ushered them into an apartment, where, though the artist
+himself was not visible, there were personages whom they could hardly
+forbear greeting with reverence.  They knew, indeed, that the whole
+assembly were but pictures, yet felt it impossible to separate the idea
+of life and intellect from such striking counterfeits.  Several of the
+portraits were known to them, either as distinguished characters of the
+day, or their private acquaintances.  There was Governor Burnet,
+looking as if he had just received an undutiful communication from the
+House of Representatives, and were inditing a most sharp response.  Mr.
+Cooke hung beside the ruler whom he opposed, sturdy, and somewhat
+puritanical, as befitted a popular leader.  The ancient lady of Sir
+William Phips eyed them from the wall, in ruff and farthingale, an
+imperious old dame, not unsuspected of witchcraft.  John Winslow, then
+a very young man, wore the expression of warlike enterprise which long
+afterward made him a distinguished general.  Their personal friends
+were recognized at a glance.  In most of the pictures, the whole mind
+and character were brought out on the countenance, and concentrated
+into a single look, so that, to speak paradoxically, the originals
+hardly resembled themselves so strikingly as the portraits did.
+
+Among these modern worthies, there were two old bearded Saints, who had
+almost vanished into the darkening canvas.  There was also a pale but
+unfaded Madonna, who had perhaps been worshiped in Rome, and now
+regarded the lovers with such a mild and holy look that they longed to
+worship too.
+
+"How singular a thought," observed Walter Ludlow, "that this beautiful
+face has been beautiful for above two hundred years!  Oh, if all beauty
+would endure so well!  Do you not envy her, Elinor?"
+
+"If earth were heaven, I might," she replied.  "But where all things
+fade, how miserable to be the one that could not fade!"
+
+"This dark old St. Peter has a fierce and ugly scowl, saint though he
+be," continued Walter.  "He troubles me.  But the virgin looks kindly
+at us."
+
+"Yes; but very sorrowfully, methinks," said Elinor.  The easel stood
+beneath these three old pictures, sustaining one that had been recently
+commenced.  After a little inspection, they began to recognize the
+features of their own minister; the Rev. Dr. Colman, growing into shape
+and life as it were, out of a cloud.
+
+"Kind old man!" exclaimed Elinor.  "He gazes at me as if he were about
+to utter a word of paternal advice."
+
+"And at me," said Walter, "as if he were about to shake his head and
+rebuke me for some suspected iniquity.  But so does the original.  I
+shall never feel quite comfortable under his eye, till we stand before
+him to be married."
+
+They now heard a footstep on the floor, and turning, beheld the
+painter, who had been some moments in the room, and had listened to a
+few of their remarks.  He was a middle-aged man, with a countenance
+well worthy of his own pencil.  Indeed, by the picturesque though
+careless arrangement of his rich dress, and, perhaps, because his soul
+dwelt always among painted shapes, he looked somewhat like a portrait
+himself.  His visitors were sensible of a kindred between the artist
+and his works, and felt as if one of the pictures had stepped from the
+canvas to salute them.
+
+Walter Ludlow, who was slightly known to the painter, explained the
+object of their visit.  While he spoke, a sun-beam was falling athwart
+his figure and Elinor's, with so happy an effect that they also seemed
+living pictures of youth and beauty, gladdened by bright fortune.  The
+artist was evidently struck.
+
+"My easel is occupied for several ensuing days, and my stay in Boston
+must be brief," said he, thoughtfully; then, after an observant glance,
+he added, "but your wishes shall be gratified, though I disappoint the
+Chief-Justice and Madam Oliver.  I must not lose this opportunity, for
+the sake of painting a few ells of broadcloth and brocade."
+
+The painter expressed a desire to introduce both their portraits into
+one picture, and represent them engaged in some appropriate action.
+This plan would have delighted the lovers, but was necessarily
+rejected, because so large a space of canvas would have been unfit for
+the room which it was intended to decorate.  Two half-length portraits
+were therefore fixed upon.  After they had taken leave, Walter Ludlow
+asked Elinor, with a smile, whether she knew what an influence over
+their fates the painter was about to acquire.
+
+"The old women of Boston affirm," continued he, "that after he has once
+got possession of a person's face and figure, he may paint him in any
+act or situation whatever--and the picture will be prophetic.  Do you
+believe it?"
+
+"Not quite," said Elinor, smiling.  "Yet if he has such magic, there is
+something so gentle in his manner that I am sure he will use it well."
+
+It was the painter's choice to proceed with both the portraits at the
+same time, assigning as a reason, in the mystical language which he
+sometimes used, that the faces threw light upon each other.
+Accordingly, he gave now a touch to Walter, and now to Elinor, and the
+features of one and the other began to start forth so vividly that it
+appeared as if his triumphant art would actually disengage them from
+the canvas.  Amid the rich light and deep shade they beheld their
+phantom selves.  But, though the likeness promised to be perfect, they
+were not quite satisfied with the expression; it seemed more vague than
+in most of the painter's works.  He, however, was satisfied with the
+prospect of success, and being much interested in the lovers, employed
+his leisure moments, unknown to them, in making a crayon sketch of
+their two figures.  During their sittings, he engaged them in
+conversation, and kindled up their faces with characteristic traits,
+which, though continually varying, it was his purpose to combine and
+fix.  At length he announced that at their next visit both the
+portraits would be ready for delivery.
+
+"If my pencil will but be true to my conception, in the few last
+touches which I meditate," observed he, "these two pictures will be my
+very best performances.  Seldom, indeed, has an artist such subjects."
+
+While speaking, he still bent his penetrative eye upon them, nor
+withdrew it till they had reached the bottom of the stairs.
+
+Nothing, in the whole circle of human vanities, takes stronger hold of
+the imagination than this affair of having a portrait painted.  Yet why
+should it be so?  The looking-glass, the polished globes of the
+andirons, the mirror-like water, and all other reflecting surfaces,
+continually present us with portraits, or rather ghosts, of ourselves,
+which we glance at, and straightway forget them.  But we forget them
+only because they vanish.  It is the idea of duration--of earthly
+immortality--that gives such a mysterious interest to our own
+portraits.  Walter and Elinor were not insensible to this feeling, and
+hastened to the painter's room, punctually at the appointed hour, to
+meet those pictured shapes which were to be their representatives with
+posterity.  The sunshine flashed after them into the apartment, but
+left it somewhat gloomy, as they closed the door.
+
+Their eyes were immediately attracted to their portraits, which rested
+against the furthest wall of the room.  At the first glance, through
+the dim light and the distance, seeing themselves in precisely their
+natural attitudes, and with all the air that they recognized so well,
+they uttered a simultaneous exclamation of delight.
+
+"There we stand," cried Walter, enthusiastically, "fixed in sunshine
+forever!  No dark passions can gather on our faces!"
+
+"No," said Elinor, more calmly; "no dreary change can sadden us."
+
+This was said while they were approaching, and had yet gained only an
+imperfect view of the pictures.  The painter, after saluting them,
+busied himself at a table in completing a crayon sketch, leaving his
+visitors to form their own judgment as to his perfected labors.  At
+intervals, he sent a glance from beneath his deep eyebrows, watching
+their countenances in profile, with his pencil suspended over the
+sketch.  They had now stood some moments, each in front of the other's
+picture, contemplating it with entranced attention, but without
+uttering a word.  At length Walter stepped forward--then back--viewing
+Elinor's portrait in various lights, and finally spoke.
+
+"Is there not a change?" said he, in a doubtful and meditative tone.
+"Yes; the perception of it grows more vivid, the longer I look.  It is
+certainly the same picture that I saw yesterday; the dress--the
+features--all are the same; and yet something is altered."
+
+"Is, then, the picture less like than it was yesterday?" inquired the
+painter, now drawing near, with irrepressible interest.
+
+"The features are perfect, Elinor," answered Walter, "and, at the first
+glance, the expression seemed also hers.  But, I could fancy that the
+portrait has changed countenance while I have been looking at it.  The
+eyes are fixed on mine with a strangely sad and anxious expression.
+Nay, it is grief and terror!  Is this like Elinor?"
+
+"Compare the living face with the pictured one," said the painter.
+
+Walter glanced sidelong at his mistress and started.  Motionless and
+absorbed--fascinated as it were--in contemplation of Walter's portrait,
+Elinor's face had assumed precisely the expression of which he had just
+been complaining.  Had she practiced for whole hours before a mirror,
+she could not have caught the look so successfully.  Had the picture
+itself been a mirror, it could not have thrown back her present aspect,
+with stronger and more melancholy truth.  She appeared quite
+unconscious of the dialogue between the artist and her lover.
+
+"Elinor," exclaimed Walter, in amazement, "what change has come over
+you?"
+
+She did not hear him, nor desist from her fixed gaze, till he seized
+her hand, and thus attracted her notice; then, with a sudden tremor,
+she looked from the picture to the face of the original.  "Do you see
+no change in your portrait?" asked she.
+
+"In mine?--None!" replied Walter, examining it.  "But let me see!  Yes;
+there is a slight change--an improvement, I think, in the picture,
+though none in the likeness.  It has a livelier expression than
+yesterday, as if some bright thought were flashing from the eyes, and
+about to be uttered from the lips.  Now that I have caught the look, it
+becomes very decided."
+
+While he was intent on these observations, Elinor turned to the
+painter.  She regarded him with grief and awe, and felt that he repaid
+her with sympathy and commiseration, though wherefore she could but
+vaguely guess.
+
+"That look!" whispered she, and shuddered.  "How came it there?"
+
+"Madam," said the painter, sadly, taking her hand, and leading her
+apart, "in both these pictures I have painted what I saw.  The
+artist--the true artist--must look beneath the exterior.  It is his
+gift--his proudest but often a melancholy one--to see the inmost soul,
+and by a power indefinable even to himself to make it glow or darken
+upon the canvas, in glances that express the thought and sentiment of
+years.  Would that I might convince myself of error in the present
+instance!"
+
+They had now approached the table, on which were heads in chalk, hands
+almost as expressive as ordinary faces, ivied church towers, thatched
+cottages, old thunder-stricken trees, Oriental and antique costume, and
+all such picturesque vagaries of an artist's idle moments.  Turning
+them over, with seeming carelessness, a crayon sketch of two figures
+was disclosed.
+
+"If I have failed," continued he, "if your heart does not see itself
+reflected in your own portrait, if you have no secret cause to trust my
+delineation of the other, it is not yet too late to alter them.  I
+might change the action of these figures too.  But would it influence
+the event?"
+
+He directed her notice to the sketch.  A thrill ran through Elinor's
+frame; a shriek was upon her lips; but she stifled it, with the
+self-command that becomes habitual to all who hide thoughts of fear and
+anguish within their bosoms.  Turning from the table, she perceived
+that Walter had advanced near enough to have seen the sketch, though
+she could not determine whether it had caught his eye.
+
+"We will not have the pictures altered," said she hastily.  "If mine is
+sad, I shall but look the gayer for the contrast."
+
+"Be it so," answered the painter, bowing.  "May your griefs be such
+fanciful ones that only your picture may mourn for them!  For your
+joys--may they be true and deep, and paint themselves upon this lovely
+face till it quite belie my art!"
+
+After the marriage of Walter and Elinor, the pictures formed the two
+most splendid ornaments of their abode.  They hung side by side,
+separated by a narrow panel, appearing to eye each other constantly,
+yet always returning the gaze of the spectator.  Travelled gentlemen,
+who professed a knowledge of such subjects, reckoned these among the
+most admirable specimens of modern portraiture; while common observers
+compared them with the originals, feature by feature, and were
+rapturous in praise of the likeness.  But it was on a third
+class--neither travelled connoisseurs nor common observers, but people
+of natural sensibility--that the pictures wrought their strongest
+effect.  Such persons might gaze carelessly at first, but, becoming
+interested, would return day after day, and study these painted faces
+like the pages of a mystic volume.  Walter Ludlow's portrait attracted
+their earliest notice.  In the absence of himself and his bride, they
+sometimes disputed as to the expression which the painter had intended
+to throw upon the features; all agreeing that there was a look of
+earnest import, though no two explained it alike.  There was less
+diversity of opinion in regard to Elinor's picture.  They differed,
+indeed, in their attempts to estimate the nature and depth of the gloom
+that dwelt upon her face, but agreed that it was gloom, and alien from
+the natural temperament of their youthful friend.  A certain fanciful
+person announced, as the result of much scrutiny, that both these
+pictures were parts of one design, and that the melancholy strength of
+feeling, in Elinor's countenance, bore reference to the more vivid
+emotion, or, as he termed it, the wild passion, in that of Walter.
+Though unskilled in the art, he even began a sketch, in which the
+action of the two figures was to correspond with their mutual
+expression.
+
+It was whispered among friends, that, day by day, Elinor's face was
+assuming a deeper shade of pensiveness, which threatened soon to render
+her too true a counterpart of her melancholy picture.  Walter, on the
+other hand, instead of acquiring the vivid look which the painter had
+given him on the canvas, became reserved and downcast, with no outward
+flashes of emotion, however it might be smouldering within.  In course
+of time, Elinor hung a gorgeous curtain of purple silk, wrought with
+flowers, and fringed with heavy golden tassels, before the pictures,
+under pretence that the dust would tarnish their hues, or the light dim
+them.  It was enough.  Her visitors felt that the massive folds of the
+silk must never be withdrawn, nor the portraits mentioned in her
+presence.
+
+Time wore on; and the painter came again.  He had been far enough to
+the north to see the silver cascade of the Crystal Hills, and to look
+over the vast round of cloud and forest, from the summit of New
+England's loftiest mountain.  But he did not profane that scene by the
+mockery of his art.  He had also lain in a canoe on the bosom of Lake
+George, making his soul the mirror of its loveliness and grandeur, till
+not a picture in the Vatican was more vivid than his recollection.  He
+had gone with the Indian hunters to Niagara, and there, again, had
+flung his hopeless pencil down the precipice, feeling that he could as
+soon paint the roar as aught else that goes to make up the wondrous
+cataract.  In truth, it was seldom his impulse to copy natural scenery,
+except as a framework for the delineations of the human form and face,
+instinct with thought, passion, or suffering.  With store of such, his
+adventurous ramble had enriched him; the stern dignity of Indian
+chiefs; the dusky loveliness of Indian girls; the domestic life of
+wigwams; the stealthy march; the battle beneath gloomy pine trees; the
+frontier fortress with its garrison; the anomaly of the old French
+partisan, bred in courts, but grown gray in shaggy deserts; such were
+the scenes and portraits that he had sketched.  The glow of perilous
+moments; flashes of wild feeling; struggles of fierce power--love,
+hate, grief, frenzy--in a word, all the worn-out heart of the old earth
+had been revealed to him under a new form.  His portfolio was filled
+with graphic illustrations of the volume of his memory, which genius
+would transmute into its own substance, and imbue with immortality.  He
+felt that the deep wisdom in his art, which he had sought so far, was
+found.
+
+But, amid stern or lovely nature, in the perils of the forest, or its
+overwhelming peacefulness, still there had been two phantoms, the
+companions of his way.  Like all other men around whom an engrossing
+purpose wreathes itself, he was insulated from the mass of human kind.
+He had no aim--no pleasure--no sympathies--but what were ultimately
+connected with his art.  Though gentle in manner, and upright in intent
+and action, he did not possess kindly feelings; his heart was cold; no
+living creature could be brought near enough to keep him warm.  For
+these two beings, however, he had felt, in its greatest intensity, the
+sort of interest which always allied him to the subjects of his pencil.
+He had pried into their souls with his keenest insight, and pictured
+the result upon their features with his utmost skill, so as barely to
+fall short of that standard which no genius ever reached, his own
+severe conception.  He had caught from the duskiness of the future--at
+least, so he fancied--a fearful secret, and had obscurely revealed it
+on the portraits.  So much of himself--of his imagination and all other
+powers--had been lavished on the study of Walter and Elinor, that he
+almost regarded them as creations of his own, like the thousands with
+which he had peopled the realms of Picture.  Therefore did they flit
+through the twilight of the woods, hover on the mist of waterfalls,
+look forth from the mirror of the lake, nor melt away in the noontide
+sun.  They haunted his pictorial fancy, not as mockeries of life, nor
+pale goblins of the dead, but in the guise of portraits, each with the
+unalterable expression which his magic had evoked from the caverns of
+the soul.  He could not recross the Atlantic, till he had again beheld
+the originals of those airy pictures.
+
+"Oh, glorious Art!" thus mused the enthusiastic painter, as he trod the
+street.  "Thou art the image of the Creator's own.  The innumerable
+forms that wander in nothingness start into being at thy beck.  The
+dead live again.  Thou recallest them to their old scenes, and givest
+their gray shadows the lustre of a better life, at once earthly and
+immortal.  Thou snatchest back the fleeting moments of History.  With
+thee, there is no Past; for, at thy touch, all that is great becomes
+forever present; and illustrious men live through long ages, in the
+visible performance of the very deeds which made them what they are.
+Oh, potent Art! as thou bringest the faintly revealed Past to stand in
+that narrow strip of sunlight which we call Now, canst thou summon the
+shrouded Future to meet her there?  Have I not achieved it!  Am I not
+thy Prophet?"
+
+Thus with a proud yet melancholy fervor did he almost cry aloud, as he
+passed through the toilsome street, among people that knew not of his
+reveries, nor could understand nor care for them.  It is not good for
+man to cherish a solitary ambition.  Unless there be those around him
+by whose example he may regulate himself, his thoughts, desires, and
+hopes will become extravagant, and he the semblance, perhaps the
+reality, of a madman.  Reading other bosoms, with an acuteness almost
+preternatural, the painter failed to see the disorder of his own.
+
+"And this should be the house," said he, looking up and down the front,
+before he knocked.  "Heaven help my brains!  That picture!  Methinks it
+will never vanish.  Whether I look at the windows or the door, there it
+is framed within them, painted strongly, and glowing in the richest
+tints--the faces of the portraits--the figures and action of the
+sketch!"
+
+He knocked.
+
+"The portraits!  Are they within?" inquired he, of the domestic; then
+recollecting himself--"your master and mistress!  Are they at home?"
+
+"They are, sir," said the servant, adding, as he noticed that
+picturesque aspect of which the painter could never divest himself,
+"and the Portraits too!"
+
+The guest was admitted into a parlor, communicating by a central door
+with an interior room of the same size.  As the first apartment was
+empty, he passed to the entrance of the second, within which his eyes
+were greeted by those living personages, as well as their pictured
+representatives, who had long been the object of so singular an
+interest.  He involuntarily paused on the threshold.
+
+They had not perceived his approach.  Walter and Elinor were standing
+before the portraits, whence the former had just flung back the rich
+and voluminous folds of the silken curtain, holding its golden tassel
+with one hand, while the other grasped that of his bride.  The
+pictures, concealed for months, gleamed forth again in undiminished
+splendor, appearing to throw a sombre light across the room rather than
+to be disclosed by a borrowed radiance.  That of Elinor had been almost
+prophetic.  A pensiveness, and next a gentle sorrow, had successively
+dwelt upon her countenance, deepening, with the lapse of time, into a
+quiet anguish.  A mixture of affright would now have made it the very
+expression of the portrait.  Walter's face was moody and dull, or
+animated only by fitful flashes, which left a heavier darkness for
+their momentary illumination.  He looked from Elinor to her portrait,
+and thence to his own, in the contemplation of which he finally stood
+absorbed.
+
+The painter seemed to hear the step of Destiny approaching behind him,
+on its progress toward its victims.  A strange thought darted into his
+mind.  Was not his own the form in which that Destiny had embodied
+itself, and he a chief agent of the coming evil which he had
+foreshadowed?
+
+Still, Walter remained silent before the picture, communing with it, as
+with his own heart, and abandoning himself to the spell of evil
+influence that the painter had cast upon the features.  Gradually his
+eyes kindled; while, as Elinor watched the increasing wildness of his
+face, her own assumed a look of terror; and when at last he turned upon
+her, the resemblance of both to their portraits was complete.
+
+"Our fate is upon us!" howled Walter.  "Die!"
+
+Drawing a knife, he sustained her, as she was sinking to the ground,
+and aimed it at her bosom.  In the action and in the look and attitude
+of each, the painter beheld the figures of his sketch.  The picture,
+with all its tremendous coloring was finished.
+
+"Hold, madman!" cried he, sternly.
+
+He had advanced from the door, and interposed himself between the
+wretched beings, with the same sense of power to regulate their destiny
+as to alter a scene upon the canvas.  He stood like a magician,
+controlling the phantoms which he had evoked.
+
+"What!" muttered Walter Ludlow, as he relapsed from fierce excitement
+into silent gloom.  "Does Fate impede its own decree?"
+
+"Wretched lady!" said the painter.  "Did I not warn you?"
+
+"You did," replied Elinor, calmly, as her terror gave place to the
+quiet grief which it had disturbed.  "But--I loved him!"
+
+Is there not a deep moral in the tale?  Could the result of one, or all
+our deeds, be shadowed forth and set before us--some would call it Fate
+and hurry onward, others be swept along by their passionate
+desires--and none be turned aside by the PROPHETIC PICTURES.
+
+
+
+
+THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW
+
+By WASHINGTON IRVING
+
+(FOUND AMONG THE PAPERS OF THE LATE DIEDRICH KNICKERBOCKER)
+
+  "A pleasing land of drowsy head it was,
+  Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye;
+  And of gay castles in the clouds that pass,
+  Forever flushing round a summer sky."
+               --_Castle of Indolence_
+
+
+In the bosom of one of those spacious coves which indent the eastern
+shore of the Hudson, at that broad expansion of the river denominated
+by the ancient Dutch navigators the Tappaan Zee, and where they always
+prudently shortened sail and implored the protection of St. Nicholas
+when they crossed, there lies a small market town or rural port, which
+by some is called Greensburgh, but which is more generally and properly
+known by the name of Tarry Town.  This name was given it, we are told,
+in former days, by the good housewives of the adjacent country, from
+the inveterate propensity of their husbands to linger about the village
+tavern on market days.  Be that as it may, I do not vouch for the fact,
+but merely advert to it, for the sake of being precise and authentic.
+Not far from this village, perhaps about three miles, there is a little
+valley or rather lap of land among high hills, which is one of the
+quietest places in the whole world.  A small brook glides through it,
+with just murmur enough to lull one to repose, and the occasional
+whistle of a quail, or tapping of a woodpecker, is almost the only
+sound that ever breaks in upon the uniform tranquillity.
+
+I recollect that, when a stripling, my first exploit in
+squirrel-shooting was in a grove of tall walnut-trees that shades one
+side of the valley.  I had wandered into it at noon-time, when all
+nature is peculiarly quiet, and was startled by roar of my own gun, as
+it broke the sabbath stillness around and was prolonged and
+reverberated by the angry echoes.  If ever I should wish for a retreat
+whither I might steal from the world and its distractions, and dream
+quietly away the remnant of a troubled life, I know of none more
+promising than this little valley.
+
+From the listless repose of the place and the peculiar character of its
+inhabitants, who are descendants from the original Dutch settlers, this
+sequestered glen has long been known by the name of Sleepy Hollow, and
+its rustic lads are called the Sleepy Hollow Boys throughout all the
+neighboring country.  A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the
+land and to pervade the very atmosphere.  Some say that the place was
+bewitched by a high German doctor, during the early days of the
+settlement; others, that an old Indian chief, the prophet or wizard of
+his tribe, held his powwows there before the country was discovered by
+Master Hendrick Hudson.  Certain it is, the place still continues under
+the sway of some witching power that holds a spell over the minds of
+the good people, causing them to walk in a continual reverie.  They are
+given to all kinds of marvelous beliefs; are subject to trances and
+visions, and frequently see strange sights, and hear music and voices
+in the air.  The whole neighborhood abounds with local tales, haunted
+spots, and twilight superstitions; stars shoot and meteors glare
+oftener across the valley than in any other part of the country, and
+the nightmare, with her whole nine fold, seems to make it the favorite
+scene of her gambols.
+
+The dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region and
+seems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers of the air, is the
+apparition of a figure on horseback without a head.  It is said by some
+to be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away
+by a cannon-ball in some nameless battle during the revolutionary war,
+and who is ever and anon seen by the country folk, hurrying along in
+the gloom of night, as if on the wings of the wind.  His haunts are not
+confined to the valley, but extend at times to the adjacent roads, and
+especially to the vicinity of a church that is at no great distance.
+Indeed, certain of the most authentic historians of those parts, who
+have been careful in collecting and collating the floating facts
+concerning this specter, allege that, the body of the trooper having
+been buried in the churchyard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of
+battle in nightly quest of his head, and that the rushing speed with
+which he sometimes passes along the hollow like a midnight blast, is
+owing to his being belated, and in a hurry to get back to the
+churchyard before daybreak.
+
+Such is the general purport of this legendary superstition, which has
+furnished materials for many a wild story in that region of shadows,
+and the specter is known at all the country firesides by the name of
+The Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.
+
+It is remarkable that the visionary propensity I have mentioned is not
+confined to the native inhabitants of the valley, but is unconsciously
+imbibed by every one who resides there for a time.  However wide awake
+they may have been before they entered that sleepy region, they are
+sure, in a little time, to inhale the witching influence of the air,
+and begin to grow imaginative--to dream dreams and see apparitions.
+
+I mention this peaceful spot with all possible laud; for it is in such
+little retired Dutch valleys, found here and there embosomed in the
+great State of New York, that population, manners and customs remain
+fixed, while the great torrent of migration and improvement, which is
+making such incessant changes in other parts of this restless country,
+sweeps by them unobserved.  They are like those little nooks of still
+water which border a rapid stream, where we may see the straw and
+bubble riding quietly at anchor, or slowly revolving in their mimic
+harbor, undisturbed by the rush of the passing current.  Though many
+years have elapsed since I trod the drowsy shades of Sleepy Hollow, yet
+I question whether I should not still find the same trees and the same
+families vegetating in its sheltered bosom.
+
+In this by-place of nature there abode, in a remote period of American
+history, that is to say, some thirty years since, a worthy wight of the
+name of Ichabod Crane, who sojourned, or, as he expressed it,
+"tarried," in Sleepy Hollow, for the purpose of instructing the
+children of the vicinity.  He was a native of Connecticut, a State
+which supplies the Union with pioneers for the mind as well as for the
+forest, and sends forth yearly its legions of frontier woodmen and
+country schoolmasters.
+
+The cognomen of Crane was not inapplicable to his person.  He was tall,
+but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, hands
+that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, feet that might have served for
+shovels, and his whole frame most loosely hung together.  His head was
+small and flat at top, with huge ears, large green glassy eyes, and a
+long snipe nose, so that it looked like a weathercock perched upon his
+spindle neck to tell which way the wind blew.  To see him striding
+along the profile of a hill on a windy day, with his clothes bagging
+and fluttering about him, one might have mistaken him for the genius of
+famine descending upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from a
+cornfield.
+
+His schoolhouse was a low building of one large room, rudely
+constructed of logs, the windows partly glazed and partly patched with
+leaves of copy-books.  It was most ingeniously secured at vacant hours
+by a withe twisted in the handle of the door, and stakes set against
+the window-shutters; so that, though a thief might get in with perfect
+case, he would find some embarrassment in getting out--an idea most
+probably borrowed by the architect, Yost Van Houten, from the mystery
+of an ellpot.  The schoolhouse stood in a rather lonely but pleasant
+situation, just at the foot of a woody hill, with a brook running close
+by and a formidable birch-tree growing at one end of it.  From hence
+the low murmur of his pupils' voices, conning over their lessons, might
+be heard of a drowsy summer's day, like the hum of a beehive;
+interrupted now and then by the authoritative voice of the master in
+the tone of menace or command; or, peradventure, by the appalling sound
+of the birch, as he urged some tardy loiterer along the flowery path of
+knowledge.  Truth to say, he was a conscientious man, that ever bore in
+mind the golden maxim, "spare the rod and spoil the child."--Ichabod
+Crane's scholars certainly were not spoiled.
+
+I would not have it imagined, however, that he was one of those cruel
+potentates of the school who joy in the smart of their subjects; on the
+contrary, he administered justice with discrimination rather than
+severity, taking the burden off the backs of the weak and laying it on
+those of the strong.  Your mere puny stripling, that winced at the
+least flourish of the rod, was passed by with indulgence; but the
+claims of justice were satisfied by inflicting a double portion on some
+little, tough, wrong headed, broad-skirted Dutch urchin, who sulked and
+swelled and grew dogged and sullen beneath the birch.  All this he
+called "doing his duty by their parents"; and he never inflicted a
+chastisement without following it by the assurance, so consolatory to
+the smarting urchin, that "he would remember it and thank him for it
+the longest day he had to live."
+
+When school hours were over, he was even the companion and playmate of
+the larger boys; and on holyday afternoons would convoy some of the
+smaller ones home, who happened to have pretty sisters, or good
+housewives for mothers, noted for the comforts of the cupboard.
+Indeed, it behooved him to keep on good terms with his pupils.  The
+revenue arising from his school was small, and would have been scarcely
+sufficient to furnish him with daily bread, for he was a huge feeder,
+and, though lank, had the dilating powers of an anaconda; but to help
+out his maintenance, he was, according to country custom in those
+parts, boarded and lodged at the houses of the farmers whose children
+he instructed.  With these he lived successively a week at a time, thus
+going the rounds of the neighborhood with all his worldly effects tied
+up in a cotton handkerchief.
+
+That all this might not be too onerous on the purses of his rustic
+patrons, who are apt to consider the costs of schooling a grievous
+burden and schoolmasters as mere drones, he had various ways of
+rendering himself both useful and agreeable.  He assisted the farmers
+occasionally in the lighter labors of their farms; helped to make hay;
+mended the fences; took the horses to water; drove the cows from
+pasture, and cut wood for the winter fire.  He laid aside, too, all the
+dominant dignity and absolute sway with which he lorded it in his
+little empire, the school, and became wonderfully gentle and
+ingratiating.  He found favor in the eyes of the mothers, by petting
+the children, particularly the youngest; and like the lion bold, which
+whilom so magnanimously the lamb did hold, he would sit with a child on
+one knee and rock a cradle with his foot for whole hours together.
+
+In addition to his other vocations, he was the singing-master of the
+neighborhood, and picked up many bright shillings by instructing the
+young folks in psalmody.  It was a matter of no little vanity to him on
+Sundays to take his station in front of the church gallery, with a band
+of chosen singers; where, in his own mind, he completely carried away
+the palm from the parson.  Certain it is, his voice resounded far above
+all the rest of the congregation, and there are peculiar quavers still
+to be heard in that church, and which may even be heard half a mile
+off, quite to the opposite side of the mill-pond, on a still Sunday
+morning, which are said to be legitimately descended from the nose of
+Ichabod Crane.  Thus by divers little makeshifts, in that ingenious way
+which is commonly denominated "by hook and by crook," the worthy
+pedagogue got on tolerably enough, and was thought, by all who
+understood nothing of the labor of head-work, to have a wonderfully
+easy life of it.
+
+The schoolmaster is generally a man of some importance in the female
+circle of a rural neighborhood; being considered a kind of idle
+gentleman-like personage, of vastly superior taste and accomplishments
+to the rough country swains, and, indeed, inferior in learning only to
+the parson.  His appearance, therefore, is apt to occasion some little
+stir at the tea-table of a farmhouse and the addition of a
+supernumerary dish of cakes or sweetmeats, or, peradventure, the parade
+of a silver teapot.  Our man of letters, therefore, was peculiarly
+happy in the smiles of all the country damsels.  How he would figure
+among them in the churchyard, between, services on Sundays! gathering
+grapes for them from the wild vines that overrun the surrounding trees;
+reciting for their amusement all the epitaphs on the tombstones, or
+sauntering, with a whole bevy of them, along the banks of the adjacent
+mill-pond; while the more bashful country bumpkins hung sheepishly
+back, envying his superior elegance and address.
+
+From his half itinerant life, also, he was a kind of traveling gazette,
+carrying the whole budget of local gossip from house to house, so that
+his appearance was always greeted with satisfaction.  He was, moreover,
+esteemed by the women as a man of great erudition, for he had read
+several books quite through, and was a perfect master of Cotton
+Mather's "History of New England Witchcraft," in which, by the way, he
+most firmly and potently believed.
+
+He was, in fact, an odd mixture of small shrewdness and simple
+credulity.  His appetite for the marvelous, and his powers of digesting
+it, were equally extraordinary; and both had been increased by his
+residence in this spell-bound region.  No tale was too gross or
+monstrous for his capacious swallow.  It was often his delight, after
+his school was dismissed in the afternoon, to stretch himself on the
+rich bed of clover, bordering the little brook that whimpered by his
+schoolhouse, and there con over old Mather's direful tales, until the
+gathering dusk of evening made the printed page a mere mist before his
+eyes.  Then, as he wended his way, by swamp and stream and awful
+woodland, to the farmhouse where he happened to be quartered, every
+sound of nature, at that witching hour, fluttered his excited
+imagination: the moan of the whip-poor-will[1] from the hill-side; the
+boding cry of the tree-toad, that harbinger of storm; the dreary
+hooting of the screech-owl, or the sudden rustling in the thicket of
+birds frightened from their roost.  The fire-flies, too, which sparkled
+most vividly in the darkest places, now and then startled him, as one
+of uncommon brightness would stream across his path; and if, by chance,
+a huge blockhead of a beetle came winging his blundering flight against
+him, the poor varlet was ready to give up the ghost, with the idea that
+he was struck with a witch's token.  His only resource on such
+occasions, either to drown thought or drive away evil spirits, was to
+sing psalm tunes; and the good people of Sleepy Hollow, as they sat by
+their doors of an evening, were often filled with awe at hearing his
+nasal melody, "in linked sweetness long drawn out," floating from the
+distant hill, or along the dusky road.
+
+Another of his sources of fearful pleasure was to pass long winter
+evenings with the old Dutch wives, as they sat spinning by the fire,
+with a row of apples roasting and sputtering along the hearth, and
+listen to their marvelous tales of ghosts and goblins, and haunted
+fields and haunted brooks, and haunted bridges and haunted houses, and
+particularly of the headless horseman, or galloping Hessian of the
+Hollow, as they sometimes called him.  He would delight them equally by
+his anecdotes of witchcraft, and of the direful omens and portentous
+sights and sounds in the air, which prevailed in the earlier times of
+Connecticut; and would frighten them wofully with speculations upon
+comets and shooting stars, and with the alarming fact that the world
+did absolutely turn round, and that they were half the time topsy-turvy!
+
+But if there was a pleasure in all this, while snugly cuddling in the
+chimney corner of a chamber that was all of a ruddy glow from the
+crackling wood fire, and where, of course, no specter dared to show its
+face, it was dearly purchased by the terrors of his subsequent walk
+homeward.  What fearful shapes and shadows beset his path, amid the dim
+and ghastly glare of a snowy night!--With what wistful look did he eye
+every trembling ray of light streaming across the waste fields from
+some distant window!--How often was he appalled by some shrub covered
+with snow, which, like a sheeted specter, beset his very path!--How
+often did he shrink with curdling awe at the sound of his own steps on
+the frosty crust beneath his feet, and dread to look over his shoulder,
+lest he should behold some uncouth being tramping close behind
+him!--and how often was he thrown into complete dismay by some rushing
+blast, howling among the trees, in the idea that it was the galloping
+Hessian on one of his nightly scourings!
+
+All these, however, were mere terrors of the night, phantoms of the
+mind, that walk in darkness: and though he had seen many specters in
+his time, and had been more than once beset by Satan in divers shapes
+in his lonely perambulations, yet daylight put an end to all these
+evils; and he would have passed a pleasant life of it, in despite of
+the Devil and all his works, if his path had not been crossed by a
+being that causes more perplexity to mortal man than ghosts, goblins,
+and the whole race of witches put together; and that was--a woman.
+
+Among the musical disciples who assembled, one evening in each week, to
+receive his instructions in psalmody, was Katrina Van Tassel, the
+daughter and only child of a substantial Dutch farmer.  She was a
+blooming lass of fresh eighteen; plump as a partridge, ripe and melting
+and rosy-cheeked as one of her father's peaches, and universally famed,
+not merely for her beauty, but her vast expectations.  She was withal a
+little of a coquette, as might be perceived even in her dress, which
+was a mixture of ancient and modern fashions, as most suited to set off
+her charms.  She wore the ornaments of pure yellow gold which her
+great-great-grandmother had brought over from Saardam; the tempting
+stomacher of the olden time, and withal a provokingly short petticoat,
+to display the prettiest foot and ankle in the country round.
+
+Ichabod Crane had a soft and foolish heart toward the sex; and it is
+not to be wondered at that so tempting a morsel soon found favor in his
+eyes, more especially after he had visited her in her paternal mansion.
+Old Baltus Van Tassel was a perfect picture of a thriving, contented,
+liberal-hearted farmer.  He seldom, it is true, sent either his eyes or
+his thoughts beyond the boundaries of his own farm; but within these,
+everything was snug, happy, and well-conditioned.  He was satisfied
+with his wealth, but not proud of it; and piqued himself upon the
+hearty abundance, rather than the style in which he lived.  His
+stronghold was situated on the banks of the Hudson, in one of those
+green, sheltered, fertile nooks in which the Dutch farmers are so fond
+of nestling.  A great elm-tree spread its broad branches over it, at
+the foot of which bubbled up a spring of the softest and sweetest
+water, in a little well formed of a barrel, and then stole sparkling
+away through the grass, to a neighboring brook that babbled along among
+alders and dwarf willows.  Hard by the farmhouse was a vast barn that
+might have served for a church, every window and crevice of which
+seemed bursting forth with the treasures of the farm; the flail was
+busily resounding within it from morning to night; swallows and martins
+skimmed twittering about the eaves; and rows of pigeons, some with one
+eye turned up, as if watching the weather, some with their heads under
+their wings, or buried in their bosoms, and others, swelling, and
+cooing, and bowing about their dames, were enjoying the sunshine on the
+roof.  Sleek, unwieldy porkers were grunting in the repose and
+abundance of their pens, from whence sallied forth, now and then,
+troops of sucking pigs, as if to snuff the air.  A stately squadron of
+snowy geese were riding in an adjoining pond, convoying whole fleets of
+ducks; regiments of turkeys were gobbling through the farmyard, and
+guinea-fowls fretting about it like ill-tempered housewives, with their
+peevish, discontented cry.  Before the barn door strutted the gallant
+cock, that pattern of a husband, a warrior and a fine gentleman,
+clapping his burnished wings and crowing in the pride and gladness of
+his heart--sometimes tearing up the earth with his feet, and then
+generously calling his ever-hungry family of wives and children to
+enjoy the rich morsel which he had discovered.
+
+The pedagogue's mouth watered as he looked upon this sumptuous promise
+of luxurious winter fare.  In his devouring mind's eye, he pictured to
+himself every roasting pig running about, with a pudding in its belly
+and an apple in its mouth; the pigeons were snugly put to bed in a
+comfortable pie and tucked in with a coverlet of crust; the geese were
+swimming in their own gravy, and the ducks pairing cosily in dishes,
+like snug married couples, with a decent competency of onion sauce.  In
+the porkers he saw carved out the future sleek side of bacon and juicy
+relishing ham; not a turkey, but he beheld daintily trussed up, with
+its gizzard under its wing, and, peradventure, a necklace of savory
+sausages; and even bright chanticleer himself lay sprawling on his
+back, in a side dish, with uplifted claws, as if craving that quarter
+which his chivalrous spirit disdained to ask while living.
+
+As the enraptured Ichabod fancied all this, and as he rolled his great
+green eyes over the fat meadow lands, the rich fields of wheat, of rye,
+of buckwheat and Indian corn, and the orchards burdened with ruddy
+fruit, which surrounded the warm tenement of Van Tassel, his heart
+yearned after the damsel who was to inherit these domains, and his
+imagination expanded with the idea how they might be readily turned
+into cash, and the money invested in immense tracts of wild land and
+shingle palaces in the wilderness.  Nay, his busy fancy already
+realized his hopes, and presented to him the blooming Katrina, with a
+whole family of children, mounted on the top of a wagon loaded with
+household trumpery, with pots and kettles dangling beneath; and he
+beheld himself bestriding a pacing mare, with a colt at her heels,
+setting out for Kentucky, Tennessee--or the Lord knows where!
+
+When he entered the house, the conquest of his heart was complete.  It
+was one of those spacious farmhouses, with high-ridged, but
+lowly-sloping roofs, built in the style handed down from the first
+Dutch settlers.  The low projecting eaves forming a piazza along the
+front capable of being closed up in bad weather.  Under this were hung
+flails, harness, various utensils of husbandry, and nets for fishing in
+the neighboring river.  Benches were built along the sides for summer
+use; and a great spinning-wheel at one end and a churn at the other
+showed the various uses to which this important porch might be devoted.
+From this piazza the wonderful Ichabod entered the hall, which formed
+the center of the mansion, and the place of usual residence.  Here,
+rows of resplendent pewter, ranged on a long dresser, dazzled his eyes.
+In one corner stood a huge bag of wool, ready to be spun; in another, a
+quantity of linsey-woolsey just from the loom; ears of Indian corn and
+strings of dried apples and peaches hung in gay festoons along the
+walls, mingled with the gaud of red peppers; and a door left ajar gave
+him a peep into the best parlor, where the claw-footed chairs, and dark
+mahogany tables, shone like mirrors; andirons, with their accompanying
+shovel and tongs, glistened from their covert of asparagus tops;
+mock-oranges and conch shells decorated the mantel-piece; strings of
+various colored birds' eggs were suspended above it; a great ostrich
+egg was hung from the center of the room, and a corner cupboard,
+knowingly left open, displayed immense treasures of old silver and
+well-mended china.
+
+From the moment Ichabod laid his eyes upon these regions of delight,
+the peace of his mind was at an end, and his only study was how to gain
+the affections of the peerless daughter of Van Tassel.  In this
+enterprise, however, he had more real difficulties than generally fell
+to the lot of a knight-errant of yore, who seldom had anything but
+giants, enchanters, fiery dragons, and such like easily conquered
+adversaries, to contend with; and had to make his way merely through
+gates of iron and brass and walls of adamant to the castle-keep, where
+the lady of his heart was confined; all which he achieved as easily as
+a man would carve his way to the center of a Christmas pie, and then
+the lady gave him her hand as a matter of course.  Ichabod, on the
+contrary, had to win his way to the heart of a country coquette, beset
+with a labyrinth of whims and caprices, which were forever presenting
+new difficulties and impediments, and he had to encounter a host of
+fearful adversaries of real flesh and blood, the numerous rustic
+admirers who beset every portal to her heart; keeping a watchful and
+angry eye upon each other, but ready to fly out in the common cause
+against any new competitor.
+
+Among these, the most formidable was a burly, roaring, roistering
+blade, of the name of Abraham, or, according to the Dutch abbreviation,
+Brom Van Brunt, the hero of the country round, which rung with his
+feats of strength and hardihood.  He was broad-shouldered and
+double-jointed, with short curly black hair, and a bluff, but not
+unpleasant countenance, having a mingled air of fun and arrogance.
+From his Herculean frame and great powers of limb, he had received the
+nickname of Brom Bones, by which he was universally known.  He was
+famed for great knowledge and skill in horsemanship, being as dexterous
+on horseback as a Tartar.  He was foremost at all races and
+cock-fights, and with the ascendency which bodily strength always
+acquires in rustic life, was the umpire in all disputes, setting his
+hat on one side, and giving his decisions with an air and tone that
+admitted of no gainsay or appeal.  He was always ready for either a
+fight or a frolic; had more mischief than ill-will in his composition;
+and, with all his overbearing roughness, there was a strong dash of
+waggish good-humor at bottom.  He had three or four boon companions of
+his own stamp, who regarded him as their model, and at the head of whom
+he scoured the country, attending every scene of feud or merriment for
+miles round.  In cold weather, he was distinguished by a fur cap,
+surmounted with a flaunting fox's tail; and when the folks at a country
+gathering descried this well-known crest at a distance, whisking about
+among a squad of hard riders, they always stood by for a squall.
+Sometimes his crew would be heard dashing along past the farmhouses at
+midnight, with whoop and halloo, like a troop of Don Cossacks, and the
+old dames, startled out of their sleep, would listen for a moment till
+the hurry-scurry had clattered by, and then exclaim, "Ay, there goes
+Brom Bones and his gang!"  The neighbors looked upon him with a mixture
+of awe, admiration, and good-will; and when any madcap prank or rustic
+brawl occurred in the vicinity, always shook their heads, and warranted
+Brom Bones was at the bottom of it.
+
+This rantipole hero had for some time singled out the blooming Katrina
+for the object of his uncouth gallantries, and though his amorous
+toyings were something like the gentle caresses and endearments of a
+bear, yet it was whispered that she did not altogether discourage his
+hopes.  Certain it is, his advances were signals for rival candidates
+to retire, who felt no inclination to cross a lion in his amours;
+insomuch, that when his horse was seen tied to Van Tassel's paling, on
+a Sunday night, a sure sign that his master was courting, or, as it is
+termed, "sparking," within, all other suitors passed by in despair and
+carried the war into other quarters.
+
+Such was the formidable rival with whom Ichabod Crane had to contend,
+and considering all things, a stouter man than he would have shrunk
+from the competition, and a wiser man would have despaired.  He had,
+however, a happy mixture of pliability and perseverance in his nature;
+he was in form and spirit like a supple-jack--yielding, but tough;
+though he bent, he never broke; and though he bowed beneath the
+slightest pressure, yet, the moment it was away--jerk!--he was as erect
+and carried his head as high as ever.
+
+To have taken the field openly against his rival would have been
+madness; for he was not a man to be thwarted in his amours, any more
+than that stormy lover, Achilles.  Ichabod, therefore, made his
+advances in a quiet and gently-insinuating manner.  Under cover of his
+character of singing-master, he made frequent visits at the farmhouse;
+not that he had anything to apprehend from the meddlesome interference
+of parents, which is so often a stumbling-block in the path of lovers.
+Balt Van Tassel was an easy indulgent soul; he loved his daughter
+better even than his pipe, and like a reasonable man, and an excellent
+father, let her have her way in everything.  His notable little wife,
+too, had enough to do to attend to her housekeeping and manage the
+poultry; for, as she sagely observed, ducks and geese are foolish
+things, and must be looked after, but girls can take care of
+themselves.  Thus, while the busy dame bustled about the house, or
+plied her spinning-wheel at one end of the piazza, honest Balt would
+sit smoking his evening pipe at the other, watching the achievements of
+a little wooden warrior, who, armed with a sword in each hand, was most
+valiantly fighting the wind on the pinnacle of the barn.  In the
+meantime, Ichabod would carry on his suit with the daughter by the side
+of the spring under the great elm, or sauntering along in the twilight,
+that hour so favorable to the lover's eloquence.
+
+I profess not to know how women's hearts are wooed and won.  To me they
+have always been matters of riddle and admiration.  Some seem to have
+but one vulnerable point, or door of access; while others have a
+thousand avenues, and may be captured in a thousand different ways.  It
+is a great triumph of skill to gain the former, but a still greater
+proof of generalship to maintain possession of the latter, for a man
+must battle for his fortress at every door and window.  He that wins a
+thousand common hearts, is therefore entitled to some renown; but he
+who keeps undisputed sway over the heart of a coquette, is indeed a
+hero.  Certain it is, this was not the case with the redoubtable Brom
+Bones; and from the moment Ichabod Crane made his advances, the
+interests of the former evidently declined: his horse was no longer
+seen tied at the palings on Sunday nights, and a deadly feud gradually
+arose between him and the preceptor of Sleepy Hollow.
+
+Brom, who had a degree of rough chivalry in his nature, would fain have
+carried matters to open warfare, and settled their pretensions to the
+lady according to the mode of those most concise and simple reasoners,
+the knights-errant of yore--by single combat; but Ichabod was too
+conscious of the superior might of his adversary to enter the lists
+against him; he had overheard the boast of Bones, that he would "double
+the schoolmaster up, and put him on a shelf"; and he was too wary to
+give him an opportunity.  There was something extremely provoking in
+this obstinately pacific system; it left Brom no alternative but to
+draw upon the funds of rustic waggery in his disposition, and to play
+off boorish practical jokes upon his rival.  Ichabod became the object
+of whimsical persecution to Bones and his gang of rough riders.  They
+harried his hitherto peaceful domains; smoked out his singing-school,
+by stopping up the chimney; broke into the schoolhouse at night, in
+spite of its formidable fastenings of withe and window stakes, and
+turned everything topsy-turvy; so that the poor schoolmaster began to
+think all the witches in the country held their meetings there.  But
+what was still more annoying, Brom took all opportunities of turning
+him into ridicule in presence of his mistress, and had a scoundrel dog
+whom he taught to whine in the most ludicrous manner, and introduced as
+a rival of Ichabod's, to instruct her in psalmody.
+
+In this way, matters went on for some time, without producing any
+material effect on the relative situations of the contending powers.
+On a fine autumnal afternoon, Ichabod, in pensive mood, sat enthroned
+on the lofty stool from whence he usually watched all the concerns of
+his little literary realm.  In his hand he swayed a ferule, that
+scepter of despotic power; the birch of justice reposed on three nails,
+behind the throne, a constant terror to evil doers; while on the desk
+before him might be seen sundry contraband articles and prohibited
+weapons, detected upon the persons of idle urchins, such as
+half-munched apples, popguns, whirligigs, fly-cages, and whole legions
+of rampant little paper game-cocks.  Apparently there had been some
+appalling act of justice recently inflicted, for his scholars were all
+busily intent upon their books, or slyly whispering behind them with
+one eye kept upon the master; and a kind of buzzing stillness reigned
+throughout the schoolroom.  It was suddenly interrupted by the
+appearance of a negro in tow-cloth jacket and trousers, a round crowned
+fragment of a hat, like the cap of Mercury, and mounted on the back of
+a ragged, wild, half-broken colt, which he managed with a rope by way
+of halter.  He came clattering up to the school door with an invitation
+to Ichabod to attend a merry-making, or "quilting frolic," to be held
+that evening at Mynheer Van Tassel's; and having delivered his message
+with that air of importance, and effort at fine language, which a negro
+is apt to display on petty embassies of the kind, he dashed over the
+brook, and was seen scampering away up the hollow, full of the
+importance and hurry of his mission.
+
+All was now bustle and hubbub in the late quiet schoolroom.  The
+scholars were hurried through their lessons, without stopping at
+trifles; those who were nimble skipped over half with impunity, and
+those who were tardy had a smart application now and then in the rear,
+to quicken their speed, or help them over a tall word.  Books were
+flung aside, without being put away on the shelves; inkstands were
+overturned, benches thrown down, and the whole school was turned loose
+an hour before the usual time; bursting forth like a legion of young
+imps, yelping and racketing about the green, in joy at their early
+emancipation.
+
+The gallant Ichabod now spent at least an extra half-hour at his
+toilet, brushing and furbishing up his best, and indeed only suit of
+rusty black, and arranging his looks by a bit of broken looking-glass
+that hung up in the schoolhouse.  That he might make his appearance
+before his mistress in the true style of a cavalier, he borrowed a
+horse from the farmer with whom he was domiciliated, a choleric old
+Dutchman, of the name of Hans Van Ripper, and thus gallantly mounted,
+issued forth like a knight-errant in quest of adventures.  But it is
+meet I should, in the true spirit of romantic story, give some account
+of the looks and equipments of my hero and his steed.  The animal he
+bestrode was a broken-down plow-horse that had outlived almost
+everything but his viciousness.  He was gaunt and shagged, with a ewe
+neck and a head like a hammer; his rusty mane and tail were tangled and
+knotted with burrs; one eye had lost its pupil, and was glaring and
+spectral, but the other had the gleam of a genuine devil in it.  Still
+he must have had fire and mettle in his day, if we may judge from his
+name, which was Gunpowder.  He had, in fact, been a favorite steed of
+his master's, the choleric Van Ripper, who was a furious rider, and had
+infused, very probably, some of his own spirit into the animal; for,
+old and broken-down as he looked, there was more of the lurking devil
+in him than in any young filly in the country.
+
+Ichabod was a suitable figure for such a steed.  He rode with short
+stirrups, which brought his knees nearly up to the pommel of the
+saddle; his sharp elbows stuck out like grasshoppers'; he carried his
+whip perpendicularly in his hand, like a scepter, and as the horse
+jogged on, the motion of his arms was not unlike the flapping of a pair
+of wings.  A small wool hat rested on the top of his nose, for so his
+scanty strip of forehead might be called, and the skirts of his black
+coat fluttered out almost to the horse's tail.  Such was the appearance
+of Ichabod and his steed as they shambled out of the gate of Hans Van
+Ripper, and it was altogether such an apparition as is seldom to be met
+with in broad daylight.
+
+It was, as I have said, a fine autumnal day; the sky was clear and
+serene, and nature wore that rich and golden livery which we always
+associate with the idea of abundance.  The forests had put on their
+sober brown and yellow, while some trees of the tenderer kind had been
+nipped by the frosts into brilliant dyes of orange, purple, and
+scarlet.  Streaming files of wild ducks began to make their appearance
+high in the air; the bark of the squirrel might be heard from the
+groves of beech and hickory-nuts, and the pensive whistle of the quail
+at intervals from the neighboring stubble-field.
+
+The small birds were taking their farewell banquets.  In the fullness
+of their revelry, they fluttered, chirping and frolicking, from bush to
+bush and tree to tree, capricious from the very profusion and variety
+around them.  There was the honest cock-robin, the favorite game of
+stripling sportsmen, with its loud querulous note, and the twittering
+blackbirds flying in sable clouds; and the golden-winged woodpecker,
+with his crimson crest, his broad black gorget and splendid plumage;
+and the cedar-bird, with its red-tipped wings and yellow-tipped tail,
+and its little monteiro cap of feathers; and the blue jay, that noisy
+coxcomb, in his gay light blue coat and white underclothes, screaming
+and chattering, nodding, and bobbing, and bowing, and pretending to be
+on good terms with every songster of the grove.
+
+As Ichabod jogged slowly on his way, his eye, ever open to every
+symptom of culinary abundance, ranged with delight over the treasures
+of jolly autumn.  On all sides he beheld vast store of apples, some
+hanging in oppressive opulence on the trees, some gathered into baskets
+and barrels for the market, others heaped up in rich piles for the
+cider-press.  Further on he beheld great fields of Indian corn, with
+its golden ears peeping from their leafy coverts and holding out the
+promise of cakes and hasty-pudding; and the yellow pumpkins lying
+beneath them, turning up their fair round bellies to the sun, and
+giving ample prospects of the most luxurious of pies; and anon he
+passed the fragrant buckwheat fields, breathing the odor of the
+beehive, and as he beheld them, soft anticipations stole over his mind
+of dainty slap-jacks, well-buttered, and garnished with honey or
+treacle, by the delicate little dimpled hand of Katrina Van Tassel.
+
+Thus feeding his mind with many sweet thoughts and "sugared
+suppositions," he journeyed along the sides of a range of hills which
+look out upon some of the goodliest scenes of the mighty Hudson.  The
+sun gradually wheeled his broad disk down into the west.  The wide
+bosom of the Tappaan Zee lay motionless and glassy, excepting that here
+and there a gentle undulation waved and prolonged the blue shadow of
+the distant mountain.  A few amber clouds floated in the sky, without a
+breath of air to move them.  The horizon was of a fine golden tint,
+changing gradually into a pure apple green, and from that into the deep
+blue of the mid-heaven.  A slanting ray lingered on the woody crests of
+the precipices that overhung some parts of the river, giving greater
+depth to the dark gray and purple of their rocky sides.  A sloop was
+loitering in the distance, dropping slowly down with the tide, her sail
+hanging uselessly against the mast; and as the reflection of the sky
+gleamed along the still water, it seemed as if the vessel was suspended
+in the air.
+
+It was toward evening that Ichabod arrived at the castle of the Heer
+Van Tassel, which he found thronged with the pride and flower of the
+adjacent country.  Old farmers, a spare leathern-faced race, in
+homespun coats and breeches, blue stockings, huge shoes, and
+magnificent pewter buckles.  Their brisk, withered little dames, in
+close crimped caps, long-waisted gowns, homespun petticoats, with
+scissors and pin-cushions, and gay calico pockets hanging on the
+outside.  Buxom lasses, almost as antiquated as their mothers,
+excepting where a straw hat, a fine ribbon, or perhaps a white frock,
+gave symptoms of city innovations.  The sons, in short square-skirted
+coats, with rows of stupendous brass buttons, and their hair generally
+queued in the fashion of the times, especially if they could procure an
+eelskin for the purpose, it being esteemed throughout the country as a
+potent nourisher and strengthener of the hair.
+
+Brom Bones, however, was the hero of the scene, having come to the
+gathering on his favorite steed Daredevil, a creature, like himself,
+full of mettle and mischief, and which no one but himself could manage.
+He was, in fact, noted for preferring vicious animals, given to all
+kinds of tricks which kept the rider in constant risk of his neck, for
+he held a tractable well-broken horse as unworthy of a lad of spirit.
+
+Fain would I pause to dwell upon the world of charms that burst upon
+the enraptured gaze of my hero, as he entered the state parlor of Van
+Tassel's mansion.  Not those of the bevy of buxom lasses, with their
+luxurious display of red and white, but the ample charms of a genuine
+Dutch country tea-table, in the sumptuous time of autumn.  Such
+heaped-up platters of cakes of various and almost indescribable kinds,
+known only to experienced Dutch housewives!  There was the doughty
+doughnut, the tender oly-koek, and the crisp and crumbling cruller;
+sweet cakes and short cakes, ginger cakes and honey cakes, and the
+whole family of cakes.  And then there were apple pies, and peach pies,
+and pumpkin pies; besides slices of ham and smoked beef; and moreover
+delectable dishes of preserved plums, and peaches, and pears, and
+quinces; not to mention broiled shad and roasted chickens; together
+with bowls of milk and cream, all mingled higgledy-piggledy, pretty
+much as I have enumerated them, with the motherly teapot sending up its
+clouds of vapor from the midst--Heaven bless the mark!  I want breath
+and time to discuss this banquet as it deserves, and am too eager to
+get on with my story.  Happily, Ichabod Crane was not in so great a
+hurry as his historian, but did ample justice to every dainty.
+
+He was a kind and thankful creature, whose heart dilated in proportion
+as his skin was filled with good cheer, and whose spirits rose with
+eating, as some men's do with drink.  He could not help, too, rolling
+his large eyes round him as he ate, and chuckling with the possibility
+that he might one day be lord of all this scene of almost unimaginable
+luxury and splendor.  Then, he thought, how soon he'd turn his back
+upon the old schoolhouse; snap his fingers in the face of Hans Van
+Ripper, and every other niggardly patron, and kick any itinerant
+pedagogue out of doors that should dare to call him comrade!
+
+Old Baltus Van Tassel moved about among his guests with a face dilated
+with content and good-humor, round and jolly as the harvest moon.  His
+hospitable attentions were brief, but expressive, being confined to a
+shake of the hand, a slap on the shoulder, a loud laugh, and a pressing
+invitation to "fall to and help themselves."
+
+And now the sound of the music from the common room, or hall, summoned
+to the dance.  The musician was an old gray-headed negro, who had been
+the itinerant orchestra of the neighborhood for more than half a
+century.  His instrument was as old and battered as himself.  The
+greater part of the time he scraped away on two or three strings,
+accompanying every movement of the bow with a motion of the head;
+bowing almost to the ground, and stamping with his foot whenever a
+fresh couple were to start.
+
+Ichabod prided himself upon his dancing as much as upon his vocal
+powers.  Not a limb, not a fiber about him was idle; and to have seen
+his loosely hung frame in full motion, and clattering about the room,
+you would have thought St. Vitus himself, that blessed patron of the
+dance, was figuring before you in person.  He was the admiration of all
+the negroes; who, having gathered, of all ages and sizes, from the farm
+and the neighborhood, stood forming a pyramid of shining black faces at
+every door and window, gazing with delight at the scene, rolling their
+white eyeballs, and showing grinning rows of ivory from ear to ear.
+How could the flogger of urchins be otherwise than animated and
+joyous?--the lady of his heart was his partner in the dance, and
+smiling graciously in reply to all his amorous oglings; while Brom
+Bones, sorely smitten with love and jealousy, sat brooding by himself
+in one corner.
+
+When the dance was at an end, Ichabod was attracted to a knot of the
+sager folks, who, with Old Van Tassel, sat smoking at one end of the
+piazza, gossiping over former times, and drawling out long stories
+about the war.
+
+This neighborhood, at the time of which I am speaking, was one of those
+highly favored places which abound with chronicle and great men.  The
+British and American line had run near it during the war; it had,
+therefore, been the scene of marauding, and infested with refugees,
+cowboys, and all kind of border chivalry.  Just sufficient time had
+elapsed to enable each story-teller to dress up his tale with a little
+becoming fiction, and, in the indistinctness of his recollection, to
+make himself the hero of every exploit.
+
+There was the story of Doffue Martling, a large blue-bearded Dutchman,
+who had nearly taken a British frigate with an old iron nine-pounder
+from a mud breastwork, only that his gun burst at the sixth discharge.
+And there was an old gentleman who shall be nameless, being too rich a
+mynheer to be lightly mentioned, who, in the battle of White Plains,
+being an excellent master of defense, parried a musket-ball with a
+small-sword, insomuch that he absolutely felt it whiz round the blade
+and glance off at the hilt; in proof of which he was ready at any time
+to show the sword, with the hilt a little bent.  There were several
+more that had been equally great in the field, not one of whom but was
+persuaded that he had a considerable hand in bringing the war to a
+happy termination.
+
+But all these were nothing to the tales of ghosts and apparitions that
+succeeded.  The neighborhood is rich in legendary treasures of the
+kind.  Local tales and superstitions thrive best in these sheltered
+long-settled retreats; but are trampled under foot by the shifting
+throng that forms the population of most of our country places.
+Besides, there is no encouragement for ghosts in most of our villages,
+for they have scarcely had time to finish their first nap, and turn
+themselves in their graves, before their surviving friends have
+traveled away from the neighborhood: so that when they turn out at
+night to walk their rounds, they have no acquaintance left to call
+upon.  This is perhaps the reason why we so seldom hear of ghosts
+except in our long-established Dutch communities.
+
+The immediate cause, however, of the prevalence of supernatural stories
+in these parts was doubtless owing to the vicinity of Sleepy Hollow.
+There was a contagion in the very air that blew from that haunted
+region; it breathed forth an atmosphere of dreams and fancies infecting
+all the land.  Several of the Sleepy Hollow people were present at Van
+Tassel's, and, as usual, were doling out their wild and wonderful
+legends.  Many dismal tales were told about funeral trains, and
+mourning cries and wailings heard and seen about the great tree where
+the unfortunate Major André was taken, and which stood in the
+neighborhood.  Some mention was made also of the woman in white, that
+haunted the dark glen at Raven Rock, and was often heard to shriek on
+winter nights before a storm, having perished there in the snow.  The
+chief part of the stories, however, turned upon the favorite specter of
+Sleepy Hollow, the headless horseman, who had been heard several times
+of late, patrolling the country, and, it is said, tethered his horse
+nightly among the graves in the churchyard.
+
+The sequestered situation of this church seems always to have made it a
+favorite haunt of troubled spirits.  It stands on a knoll, surrounded
+by locust trees and lofty elms, from among which its decent,
+whitewashed walls shine modestly forth, like Christian purity, beaming
+through the shades of retirement.  A gentle slope descends from it to a
+silver sheet of water, bordered by high trees, between which peeps may
+be caught at the blue hills of the Hudson.  To look upon its
+grass-grown yard, where the sunbeams seem to sleep so quietly, one
+would think that there at least the dead might rest in peace.  On one
+side of the church extends a wide woody dell, along which raves a large
+brook among broken rocks and trunks of fallen trees.  Over a deep black
+part of the stream, not far from the church, was formerly thrown a
+wooden bridge; the road that led to it, and the bridge itself, were
+thickly shaded by overhanging trees, which cast a gloom about it, even
+in the daytime; but occasioned a fearful darkness at night.  Such was
+one of the favorite haunts of the headless horseman, and the place
+where he was most frequently encountered.  The tale was told of old
+Brouwer, a most heretical disbeliever in ghosts, how he met the
+horseman returning from his foray into Sleepy Hollow, and was obliged
+to get up behind him; how they galloped over bush and brake, over hill
+and swamp, until they reached the bridge; when the horseman suddenly
+turned into a skeleton, threw old Brouwer into the brook, and sprang
+away over the treetops with a clap of thunder.
+
+This story was immediately matched by a thrice marvelous adventure of
+Brom Bones, who made light of the galloping Hessian as an arrant
+jockey.  He affirmed that, on returning one night from the neighboring
+village of Sing Sing, he had been overtaken by this midnight trooper;
+that he had offered to race with him for a bowl of punch, and should
+have won it too, for Daredevil beat the goblin horse all hollow, but
+just as they came to the church bridge the Hessian bolted, and vanished
+in a flash of fire.
+
+All these tales, told in that drowsy undertone with which men talk in
+the dark, the countenances of the listeners only now and then receiving
+a casual gleam from the glare of a pipe, sunk deep in the mind of
+Ichabod.  He repaid them in kind with large extracts from his
+invaluable author, Cotton Mather, and added many marvelous events that
+had taken place in his native State of Connecticut, and fearful sights
+which he had seen in his nightly walks about Sleepy Hollow.
+
+The revel now gradually broke up.  The old farmers gathered together
+their families in their wagons, and were heard for some time rattling
+along the hollow roads, and over the distant hills.  Some of the
+damsels mounted on pillions behind their favorite swains, and their
+light-hearted laughter, mingling with the clatter of hoofs, echoed
+along the silent woodlands, sounding fainter and fainter, until they
+gradually died away--and the late scene of noise and frolic was all
+silent and deserted.  Ichabod only lingered behind, according to the
+custom of country lovers, to have a tete-a-tete with the heiress, fully
+convinced that he was now on the high road to success.  What passed at
+this interview I will not pretend to say, for in fact I do not know.
+Something, however, I fear me, must have gone wrong, for he certainly
+sallied forth, after no very great interval, with an air quite desolate
+and chapfallen.--Oh, these women! these women!  Could that girl have
+been playing off any of her coquettish tricks?--Was her encouragement
+of the poor pedagogue all a mere sham to secure her conquest of his
+rival?--Heaven only knows, not I!--Let it suffice to say, Ichabod stole
+forth with the air of one who had been sacking a hen-roost, rather than
+a fair lady's heart.  Without looking to the right or left to notice
+the scene of rural wealth on which he had so often gloated, he went
+straight to the stable, and with several hearty cuffs and kicks roused
+his steed most uncourteously from the comfortable quarters in which he
+was soundly sleeping, dreaming of mountains of corn and oats, and whole
+valleys of timothy and clover.
+
+It was the very witching time of night that Ichabod, heavy-hearted and
+crestfallen, pursued his travel homeward, along the sides of the lofty
+hills which rise above Tarry Town, and which he had traversed so
+cheerily in the afternoon.  The hour was as dismal as himself.  Far
+below him the Tappaan Zee spread its dusky and indistinct waste of
+waters, with here and there the tall mast of a sloop, riding quietly at
+anchor under the land.  In the dead hush of midnight he could even hear
+the barking of the watch-dog from the opposite shore of the Hudson; but
+it was so vague and faint as only to give an idea of his distance from
+this faithful companion of man.  Now and then, too, the long-drawn
+crowing of a cock, accidentally awakened, would sound far, far off,
+from some farmhouse away among the hills--but it was like a dreaming
+sound in his ear.  No signs of life occurred near him, but occasionally
+the melancholy chirp of a cricket, or perhaps the guttural twang of a
+bullfrog from a neighboring marsh, as if sleeping uncomfortably, and
+turning suddenly in his bed.
+
+All the stories of ghosts and goblins that he had heard in the
+afternoon now came crowding upon his recollection.  The night grew
+darker and darker, the stars seemed to sink deeper in the sky, and
+driving clouds occasionally hid them from his sight.  He had never felt
+so lonely and dismal.  He was, moreover, approaching the very place
+where many of the scenes of the ghost stories had been laid.  In the
+center of the road stood an enormous tulip tree, which towered like a
+giant above all the other trees of the neighborhood, and formed a kind
+of landmark.  Its limbs were gnarled and fantastic, large enough to
+form trunks for ordinary trees, twisting down almost to the earth, and
+rising again into the air.  It was connected with the tragical story of
+the unfortunate André, who had been taken prisoner hard by; and was
+universally known by the name of Major André's tree.  The common people
+regarded it with a mixture of respect and superstition, partly out of
+sympathy for the fate of its ill-starred namesake, and partly from the
+tales of strange sights and doleful lamentations told concerning it.
+
+As Ichabod approached this fearful tree he began to whistle; he thought
+his whistle was answered: it was but a blast sweeping sharply through
+the dry branches.  As he approached a little nearer, he thought he saw
+something white hanging in the midst of the tree: he paused, and ceased
+whistling; but, on looking more narrowly, perceived that it was a place
+where the tree had been scathed by lightning and the white wood laid
+bare.  Suddenly he heard a groan--his teeth chattered, and his knees
+smote against the saddle: it was but the rubbing of one huge bough upon
+another, as they were swayed about by the breeze.  He passed the tree
+in safety, but new perils lay before him.
+
+About two hundred yards from the tree a small brook crossed the road,
+and ran into a marshy and thickly wooded glen known by the name of
+Wiley's Swamp.  A few rough logs, laid side by side, served for a
+bridge over this stream.  On that side of the road where the brook
+entered the wood a group of oaks and chestnuts, matted thick with wild
+grape-vines, threw a cavernous gloom over it.  To pass this bridge was
+the severest trial.  It was at this identical spot that the unfortunate
+André was captured, and under the covert of those chestnuts and vines
+were the sturdy yeomen concealed who surprised him.  This has ever
+since been considered a haunted stream, and fearful are the feelings of
+a schoolboy who has to pass it alone after dark.
+
+As he approached the stream his heart began to thump; he summoned up,
+however, all his resolution, gave his horse half a score of kicks in
+the ribs, and attempted to dash briskly across the bridge; but instead
+of starting forward, the perverse old animal made a lateral movement,
+and ran broadside against the fence.  Ichabod, whose fears increased
+with the delay, jerked the reins on the other side, and kicked lustily
+with the contrary foot.  It was all in vain; his steed started, it is
+true, but it was only to plunge to the opposite side of the road into a
+thicket of brambles and alder-bushes.  The schoolmaster now bestowed
+both whip and heel upon the starveling ribs of old Gunpowder, who
+dashed forward, snuffling and snorting, but came to a stand just by the
+bridge with a suddenness that had nearly sent his rider sprawling over
+his head.  Just at this moment a plashy tramp by the side of the bridge
+caught the sensitive ear of Ichabod.  In the dark shadow of the grove,
+on the margin of the brook, he beheld something huge, misshapen, black
+and towering.  It stirred not, but seemed gathered up in the gloom,
+like some gigantic monster ready to spring upon the traveler.
+
+The hair of the affrighted pedagogue rose upon his head with terror.
+What was to be done?  To turn and fly was now too late; and besides,
+what chance was there of escaping ghost or goblin, if such it was,
+which could ride upon the wings of the wind?  Summoning up, therefore,
+a show of courage, he demanded in stammering accents--"Who are you?"
+He received no reply.  He repeated his demand in a still more agitated
+voice.  Still there was no answer.  Once more he cudgeled the sides of
+the inflexible Gunpowder, and shutting his eyes, broke forth with
+involuntary fervor into a psalm tune.  Just then the shadowy object of
+alarm put itself in motion, and with a scramble and a bound stood at
+once in the middle of the road.  Though the night was dark and dismal,
+yet the form of the unknown might now in some degree be ascertained.
+He appeared to be a horseman of large dimensions, and mounted on a
+black horse of powerful frame.  He made no offer of molestation or
+sociability, but kept aloof on one side of the road, jogging along on
+the blind side of old Gunpowder, who had now got over his fright and
+waywardness.
+
+Ichabod, who had no relish for this strange midnight companion, and
+bethought himself of the adventure of Brom Bones with the galloping
+Hessian, now quickened his steed, in hopes of leaving him behind.  The
+stranger, however, quickened his horse to an equal pace.  Ichabod
+pulled up, and fell into a walk, thinking to lag behind--the other did
+the same.  His heart began to sink within him; he endeavored to resume
+his psalm tune, but his parched tongue clove to the roof of his mouth,
+and he could not utter a stave.  There was something in the moody and
+dogged silence of this pertinacious companion that was mysterious and
+appalling.  It was soon fearfully accounted for.  On mounting a rising
+ground, which brought the figure of his fellow-traveler in relief
+against the sky, gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod
+was horror-struck, on perceiving that he was headless! but his horror
+was still more increased, on observing that the head, which should have
+rested on his shoulders, was carried before him on the pommel of his
+saddle!  His terror rose to desperation; he rained a shower of kicks
+and blows upon Gunpowder, hoping, by a sudden movement, to give his
+companion the slip--but the specter started full jump with him.  Away,
+then, they dashed through thick and thin; stones flying and sparks
+flashing at every bound.  Ichabod's flimsy garments fluttered in the
+air, as he stretched his long lank body away over his horse's head, in
+the eagerness of his flight.
+
+They had now reached the road which turns off to Sleepy Hollow; but
+Gunpowder, who seemed possessed with a demon, instead of keeping up it,
+made an opposite turn, and plunged headlong downhill to the left.  This
+road leads through a sandy hollow, shaded by trees for about a quarter
+of a mile, where it crosses the bridge famous in goblin story; and just
+beyond swells the green knoll on which stands the whitewashed church.
+
+As yet the panic of the steed had given his unskillful rider an
+apparent advantage in the chase; but just as he had got half-way
+through the hollow, the girths of the saddle gave way, and he felt it
+slipping from under him.  He seized it by the pommel, and endeavored to
+hold it firm, but in vain; and had just time to save himself by
+clasping old Gunpowder round the neck, when the saddle fell to the
+earth, and he heard it trampled under foot by his pursuer.  For a
+moment the terror of Hans Van Ripper's wrath passed across his
+mind--for it was his Sunday saddle; but this was no time for petty
+fears: the goblin was hard on his haunches; and (unskillful rider that
+he was!) he had much ado to maintain his seat; sometimes slipping on
+one side, sometimes on another, and sometimes jolted on the high ridge
+of his horse's backbone, with a violence that he verily feared would
+cleave him asunder.
+
+An opening in the trees now cheered him with the hopes that the church
+bridge was at hand.  The wavering reflection of a silver star in the
+bosom of the brook told him that he was not mistaken.  He saw the walls
+of the church dimly glaring under the trees beyond.  He recollected the
+place where Brom Bones's ghostly competitor had disappeared.  "If I can
+but reach that bridge," thought Ichabod, "I am safe."  Just then he
+heard the black steed panting and blowing close behind him; he even
+fancied that he felt his hot breath.  Another convulsive kick in the
+ribs, and old Gunpowder sprung upon the bridge; he thundered over the
+resounding planks; he gained the opposite side, and now Ichabod cast a
+look behind to see if his pursuer should vanish, according to rule, in
+a flash of fire and brimstone.  Just then he saw the goblin rising in
+his stirrups, and in the very act of hurling his head at him.  Ichabod
+endeavored to dodge the horrible missile, but too late.  It encountered
+his cranium with a tremendous crash--he was tumbled headlong into the
+dust, and Gunpowder, the black steed, and the goblin rider, passed by
+like a whirlwind.
+
+The next morning the old horse was found without his saddle, and with
+the bridle under his feet, soberly cropping the grass at his master's
+gate.  Ichabod did not make his appearance at breakfast--dinner-hour
+came, but no Ichabod.  The boys assembled at the schoolhouse, and
+strolled idly about the banks of the brook; but no schoolmaster.  Hans
+Van Ripper now began to feel some uneasiness about the fate of poor
+Ichabod, and his saddle.  An inquiry was set on foot, and after
+diligent investigation they came upon his traces.  In one part of the
+road leading to the church was found the saddle trampled in the dirt;
+the tracks of horses' hoofs deeply dented in the road, and evidently at
+furious speed, were traced to the bridge, beyond which, on the bank of
+a broad part of the brook, where the water ran deep and black, was
+found the hat of the unfortunate Ichabod, and close beside it a
+shattered pumpkin.
+
+The brook was searched, but the body of the schoolmaster was not to be
+discovered.  Hans Van Ripper, as executor of his estate, examined the
+bundle which contained all his worldly effects.  They consisted of two
+shirts and a half; two stocks for the neck; a pair or two of worsted
+stockings; an old pair of corduroy small-clothes; a rusty razor; a book
+of psalm tunes full of dog's ears; and a broken pitch-pipe.  As to the
+books and furniture of the schoolhouse, they belonged to the community,
+excepting Cotton Mather's "History of Witchcraft," a New England
+Almanac, and a book of dreams and fortune-telling; in which last was a
+sheet of foolscap much scribbled and blotted, by several fruitless
+attempts to make a copy of verses in honor of the heiress of Van
+Tassel.  These magic books and the poetic scrawl were forthwith
+consigned to the flames by Hans Van Ripper; who, from that time
+forward, determined to send his children no more to school; observing
+that he never knew any good come of this same reading and writing.
+Whatever money the schoolmaster possessed, and he had received his
+quarter's pay but a day or two before, he must have had about his
+person at the time of his disappearance.
+
+The mysterious event caused much speculation at the church on the
+following Sunday.  Knots of gazers and gossips were collected in the
+churchyard, at the bridge, and at the spot where the hat and pumpkin
+had been found.  The stories of Brouwer, of Bones, and a whole budget
+of others, were called to mind; and when they had diligently considered
+them all, and compared them with the symptoms of the present case, they
+shook their heads, and came to the conclusion that Ichabod had been
+carried off by the galloping Hessian.  As he was a bachelor, and in
+nobody's debt, nobody troubled his head any more about him; the school
+was removed to a different quarter of the Hollow, and another pedagogue
+reigned in his stead.
+
+It is true, an old farmer, who had been down to New York on a visit
+several years after, and from whom this account of the ghostly
+adventure was received, brought home the intelligence that Ichabod
+Crane was still alive; that he had left the neighborhood partly through
+fear of the goblin and Hans Van Ripper, and partly in mortification at
+having been suddenly dismissed by the heiress; that he had changed his
+quarters to a distant part of the country; had kept school and studied
+law at the same time; had been admitted to the bar; turned politician;
+electioneered; written for the newspapers; and finally had been made a
+Justice of the Ten Pound Court.  Brom Bones too, who, shortly after his
+rival's disappearance, conducted the blooming Katrina in triumph to the
+altar, was observed to look exceedingly knowing whenever the story of
+Ichabod was related, and always burst into a hearty laugh at the
+mention of the pumpkin; which led some to suspect that he knew more
+about the matter than he chose to tell.
+
+The old country wives, however, who are the best judges of these
+matters, maintain to this day that Ichabod was spirited away by
+supernatural means; and it is a favorite story often told about the
+neighborhood round the winter evening fire.  The bridge became more
+than ever an object of superstitious awe; and that may be the reason
+why the road has been altered of late years, so as to approach the
+church by the border of the mill-pond.  The schoolhouse being deserted,
+soon fell to decay, and was reported to be haunted by the ghost of the
+unfortunate pedagogue; and the plow-boy, loitering homeward of a still
+summer evening, has often fancied his voice at a distance, chanting a
+melancholy psalm tune among the tranquil solitudes of Sleepy Hollow.
+
+
+POSTSCRIPT
+
+FOUND IN THE HANDWRITING OF MR. KNICKERBOCKER
+
+The preceding Tale is given, almost in the precise words in which I
+heard it related at a Corporation meeting of the ancient city of the
+Manhattoes,[2] at which were present many of its sagest and most
+illustrious burghers.  The narrator was a pleasant, shabby, gentlemanly
+old fellow in pepper-and-salt clothes, with a sadly humorous face; and
+one whom I strongly suspected of being poor--he made such efforts to be
+entertaining.  When his story was concluded there was much laughter and
+approbation, particularly from two or three deputy aldermen, who had
+been asleep the greater part of the time.  There was, however, one
+tall, dry-looking old gentleman, with beetling eyebrows, who maintained
+a grave and rather severe face throughout; now and then folding his
+arms, inclining his head, and looking down upon the floor, as if
+turning a doubt over in his mind.  He was one of your wary men, who
+never laugh but upon good grounds--when they have reason and the law on
+their side.  When the mirth of the rest of the company had subsided,
+and silence was restored, he leaned one arm on the elbow of his chair,
+and sticking the other a-kimbo, demanded, with a slight but exceedingly
+sage motion of the head and contraction of the brow, what was the moral
+of the story, and what it went to prove.
+
+The story-teller, who was just putting a glass of wine to his lips, as
+a refreshment after his toils, paused for a moment, looked at his
+inquirer with an air of infinite deference, and lowering the glass
+slowly to the table, observed that the story was intended most
+logically to prove:
+
+"That there is no situation in life but has its advantages and
+pleasures--provided we will but take a joke as we find it;
+
+"That, therefore, he that runs races with goblin troopers is likely to
+have rough riding of it;
+
+"Ergo, for a country schoolmaster to be refused the hand of a Dutch
+heiress is a certain step to high preferment in the State."
+
+The cautious old gentleman knit his brows tenfold closer after this
+explanation, being sorely puzzled by the ratiocination of the
+syllogism; while, methought, the one in pepper-and-salt eyed him with
+something of a triumphant leer.  At length he observed, that all this
+was very well, but still he thought the story a little on the
+extravagant--there were one or two points on which he had his doubts:
+
+"Faith, sir," replied the story-teller, "as to that matter, I don't
+believe one-half of it myself."
+
+D. K.
+
+
+
+[1] The whip-poor-will is a bird which is only heard at night.  It
+receives its name from its note, which is thought to resemble those
+words.
+
+[2] New York.
+
+
+
+
+THE GOLD-BUG
+
+By EDGAR ALLAN POE
+
+  What ho! what ho! this fellow is dancing mad!
+  He hath been bitten by the Tarantula.
+          --_All in the Wrong_
+
+
+Many years ago, I contracted an intimacy with a Mr. William Legrand.
+He was of an ancient Huguenot family, and had once been wealthy; but a
+series of misfortunes had reduced him to want.  To avoid the
+mortification consequent upon his disasters, he left New Orleans, the
+city of his forefathers, and took up his residence at Sullivan's
+Island, near Charleston, South Carolina.
+
+This island is a very singular one.  It consists of little else than
+the sea sand, and is about three miles long.  Its breadth at no point
+exceeds a quarter of a mile.  It is separated from the mainland by a
+scarcely perceptible creek, oozing its way through a wilderness of
+reeds and slime, a favorite resort of the marsh-hen.  The vegetation,
+as might be supposed, is scant, or at least dwarfish.  No trees of any
+magnitude are to be seen.  Near the western extremity, where Fort
+Moultrie stands, and where are some miserable frame buildings,
+tenanted, during the summer, by the fugitives from Charleston dust and
+fever, may be found, indeed, the bristly palmetto; but the whole
+island, with the exception of this western point, and a line of hard,
+white beach on the seacoast, is covered with a dense undergrowth of the
+sweet myrtle so much prized by the horticulturists of England.  The
+shrub here often attains the height of fifteen or twenty feet, and
+forms an almost impenetrable coppice, burdening the air with its
+fragrance.
+
+In the inmost recesses of this coppice, not far from the eastern or
+more remote end of the island, Legrand had built himself a small hut,
+which he occupied when I first, by mere accident, made his
+acquaintance.  This soon ripened into friendship--for there was much in
+the recluse to excite interest and esteem.  I found him well educated,
+with unusual powers of mind, but infected with misanthropy, and subject
+to perverse moods of alternate enthusiasm and melancholy.  He had with
+him many books, but rarely employed them.  His chief amusements were
+gunning and fishing, or sauntering along the beach and through the
+myrtles, in quest of shells or entomological specimens--his collection
+of the latter might have been envied by a Swammerdamm.  In these
+excursions he was usually accompanied by an old negro, called Jupiter,
+who had been manumitted before the reverses of the family, but who
+could be induced, neither by threats nor by promises, to abandon what
+he considered his right of attendance upon the footsteps of his young
+"Massa Will."  It is not improbable that the relatives of Legrand,
+conceiving him to be somewhat unsettled in intellect, had contrived to
+instil this obstinacy into Jupiter, with a view to the supervision and
+guardianship of the wanderer.
+
+The winters in the latitude of Sullivan's Island are seldom very
+severe, and in the fall of the year it is a rare event indeed when a
+fire is considered necessary.  About the middle of October, 18--, there
+occurred, however, a day of remarkable chilliness.  Just before sunset
+I scrambled my way through the evergreens to the hut of my friend, whom
+I had not visited for several weeks--my residence being, at that time,
+in Charleston, a distance of nine miles from the island, while the
+facilities of passage and re-passage were very far behind those of the
+present day.  Upon reaching the hut I rapped, as was my custom, and
+getting no reply, sought for the key where I knew it was secreted,
+unlocked the door, and went in.  A fine fire was blazing upon the
+hearth.  It was a novelty, and by no means an ungrateful one.  I threw
+off an overcoat, took an armchair by the crackling logs, and awaited
+patiently the arrival of my hosts.
+
+Soon after dark they arrived, and gave me a most cordial welcome.
+Jupiter, grinning from ear to ear, bustled about to prepare some
+marsh-hens for supper.  Legrand was in one of his fits--how else shall
+I term them?--of enthusiasm.  He had found an unknown bivalve, forming
+a new genus, and, more than this, he had hunted down and secured, with
+Jupiter's assistance, a _scarabaeus_ which he believed to be totally
+new, but in respect to which he wished to have my opinion on the morrow.
+
+"And why not to-night?" I asked, rubbing my hands over the blaze, and
+wishing the whole tribe of _scarabaei_ at the devil.
+
+"Ah, if I had only known you were here!" said Legrand, "but it's so
+long since I saw you; and how could I foresee that you would pay me a
+visit this very night, of all others?  As I was coming home I met
+Lieutenant G----, from the fort, and, very foolishly, I lent him the
+bug; so it will be impossible for you to see it until the morning.
+Stay here to-night, and I will send Jup down for it at sunrise.  It is
+the loveliest thing in creation!"
+
+"What?--sunrise?"
+
+"Nonsense! no!--the bug.  It is of a brilliant gold color--about the
+size of a large hickory-nut--with two jet-black spots near one
+extremity of the back, and another, somewhat longer, at the other.  The
+_antennae_ are--"
+
+"Dey ain't no tin in him, Massa Will, I keep a tellin' on you," here
+interrupted Jupiter; "de bug is a goole-bug, solid, ebery bit of him,
+inside and all, sep him wing--neber feel half so hebby a bug in my
+life."
+
+"Well, suppose it is, Jup," replied Legrand, somewhat more earnestly,
+it seemed to me, than the case demanded; "is that any reason for your
+letting the birds burn?  The color--" here he turned to me--"is really
+almost enough to warrant Jupiter's idea.  You never saw a more
+brilliant metallic lustre than the scales emit--but of this you cannot
+judge till to-morrow.  In the meantime I can give you some idea of the
+shape."  Saying this, he seated himself at a small table, on which were
+a pen and ink, but no paper.  He looked for some in a drawer, but found
+none.
+
+"Never mind," he said at length, "this will answer;" and he drew from
+his waistcoat pocket a scrap of what I took to be very dirty foolscap,
+and made upon it a rough drawing with the pen.  While he did this, I
+retained my seat by the fire, for I was still chilly.  When the design
+was complete, he handed it to me without rising.  As I received it, a
+loud growl was heard, succeeded by a scratching at the door.  Jupiter
+opened it, and a large Newfoundland, belonging to Legrand, rushed in,
+leaped upon my shoulders, and loaded me with caresses; for I had shown
+him much attention during previous visits.  When his gambols were over,
+I looked at the paper, and, to speak the truth, found myself not a
+little puzzled at what my friend had depicted.
+
+"Well!" I said, after contemplating it for some minutes, "this _is_ a
+strange _scarabaeus_, I must confess; new to me; never saw anything
+like it before--unless it was a skull, or a death's-head, which it more
+nearly resembles than anything else that has come under _my_
+observation."
+
+"A death's-head!" echoed Legrand.  "Oh--yes well, it has something of
+that appearance upon paper, no doubt.  The two upper black spots look
+like eyes, eh? and the longer one at the bottom like a mouth--and then
+the shape of the whole is oval."
+
+"Perhaps so," said I; "but, Legrand, I fear you are no artist.  I must
+wait until I see the beetle itself, if I am to form any idea of its
+personal appearance."
+
+"Well, I don't know," said he, a little nettled, "I draw
+tolerably--_should_ do it at least--have had good masters, and flatter
+myself that I am not quite a blockhead."
+
+"But, my dear fellow, you are joking, then," said I; "this is a very
+passable _skull_--indeed, I may say that it is a very _excellent_
+skull, according to the vulgar notions about such specimens of
+physiology--and your _scarabaeus_ must be the queerest _scarabaeus_ in
+the world if it resembles it.  Why, we may get up a very thrilling bit
+of superstition upon this hint.  I presume you will call the bug
+_scarabaeus caput hominis_, or something of that kind--there are many
+similar titles in the Natural Histories.  But where are the _antennae_
+you spoke of?"
+
+"The _antennae_!" said Legrand, who seemed to be getting unaccountably
+warm upon the subject; "I am sure you must see the _antennae_.  I made
+them as distinct as they are in the original insect, and I presume that
+is sufficient."
+
+"Well, well," I said, "perhaps you have--still I don't see them;" and I
+handed him the paper without additional remark, not wishing to ruffle
+his temper; but I was much surprised at the turn affairs had taken; his
+ill humor puzzled me--and, as for the drawing of the beetle, there were
+positively _no antennae_ visible, and the whole did bear a very close
+resemblance to the ordinary cuts of a death's-head.
+
+He received the paper very peevishly, and was about to crumple it,
+apparently to throw it in the fire, when a casual glance at the design
+seemed suddenly to rivet his attention.  In an instant his face grew
+violently red--in another excessively pale.  For some minutes he
+continued to scrutinize the drawing minutely where he sat.  At length
+he arose, took a candle from the table, and proceeded to seat himself
+upon a sea-chest in the furthest corner of the room.  Here again he
+made an anxious examination of the paper; turning it in all directions.
+He said nothing, however, and his conduct greatly astonished me; yet I
+thought it prudent not to exacerbate the growing moodiness of his
+temper by any comment.  Presently he took from his coat-pocket a
+wallet, placed the paper carefully in it, and deposited both in a
+writing-desk, which he locked.  He now grew more composed in his
+demeanor; but his original air of enthusiasm had quite disappeared.
+Yet he seemed not so much sulky as abstracted.  As the evening wore
+away he became more and more absorbed in revery, from which no sallies
+of mine could arouse him.  It had been my intention to pass the night
+at the hut, as I had frequently done before, but, seeing my host in
+this mood, I deemed it proper to take leave.  He did not press me to
+remain, but, as I departed, he shook my hand with even more than his
+usual cordiality.
+
+It was about a month after this (and during the interval I had seen
+nothing of Legrand) when I received a visit, at Charleston, from his
+man, Jupiter.  I had never seen the good old negro look so dispirited,
+and I feared that some serious disaster had befallen my friend.
+
+"Well, Jup," said I, "what is the matter now?--how is your master?"
+
+"Why, to speak de troof, massa, him not so berry well as mought be."
+
+"Not well!  I am truly sorry to hear it.  What does he complain of?"
+
+"Dar! dat's it!--him neber 'plain of notin'--but him berry sick for all
+dat."
+
+"_Very_ sick, Jupiter!--why didn't you say so at once?  Is he confined
+to bed?"
+
+"No, dat he aint--he aint 'fin'd nowhar--dat's just whar de shoe
+pinch--my mind is got to be berry hebby 'bout poor Massa Will."
+
+"Jupiter, I should like to understand what it is you are talking about.
+You say your master is sick.  Hasn't he told you what ails him?"
+
+"Why, massa, 'taint worf while for to git mad about de matter--Massa
+Will say noffin at all aint de matter wid him--but den what make him go
+about looking dis here way, wid he head down and he soldiers up, and as
+white as a goose?  And den he keep a syphon all de time--"
+
+"Keeps a what, Jupiter?"
+
+"Keeps a syphon wid de figgurs on de slate--de queerest figgurs I ebber
+did see.  Ise gittin' to be skeered, I tell you.  Hab for to keep
+mighty tight eye 'pon him 'noovers.  Todder day he gib me slip 'fore de
+sun up and was gone de whole ob de blessed day.  I had a big stick
+ready cut for to gib him deuced good beating when he did come--but Ise
+sich a fool dat I hadn't de heart arter all--he looked so berry poorly."
+
+"Eh?--what?--ah yes!--upon the whole I think you had better not be too
+severe with the poor fellow--don't flog him, Jupiter--he can't very
+well stand it--but can you form no idea of what has occasioned this
+illness, or rather this change of conduct?  Has anything unpleasant
+happened since I saw you?"
+
+"No, massa, dey aint bin noffin onpleasant _since_ den--'twas _'fore_
+den I'm feared--'twas de berry day you was dare."
+
+"How? what do you mean?"
+
+"Why, massa, I mean de bug--dare now."
+
+"The what?"
+
+"De bug--I'm berry sartin dat Massa Will bin bit somewhere 'bout de
+head by dat goole-bug."
+
+"And what cause have you, Jupiter, for such a supposition?"
+
+"Claws enuff, massa, and mouff, too.  I nebber did see sich a deuced
+bug--he kick and he bite ebery ting what cum near him.  Massa Will
+cotch him fuss, but had for to let him go 'gin mighty quick, I tell
+you--den was de time he must ha' got de bite.  I didn't like de look ob
+de bug mouff, myself, nohow, so I wouldn't take hold ob him wid my
+finger, but I cotch him wid a piece ob paper dat I found.  I rap him up
+in de paper and stuff a piece of it in he mouff--dat was de way."
+
+"And you think, then, that your master was really bitten by the beetle,
+and that the bite made him sick?"
+
+"I don't think noffin about it--I nose it.  What make him dream 'bout
+de goole so much, if 'taint cause he bit by the goole-bug?  Ise heered
+'bout dem goole-bugs 'fore dis."
+
+"But how do you know he dreams about gold?"
+
+"How I know? why, 'cause he talk about it in he sleep--dat's how I
+nose."
+
+"Well, Jup, perhaps you are right; but to what fortunate circumstance
+am I to attribute the honor of a visit from you to-day?"
+
+"What de matter, massa?"
+
+"Did you bring any message from Mr. Legrand?"
+
+"No, massa, I bring dis here pissel;" and here Jupiter handed me a note
+which ran thus:
+
+
+"My Dear--: Why have I not seen you for so long a time?  I hope you
+have not been so foolish as to take offence at any little brusquerie of
+mine; but no, that is improbable.
+
+"Since I saw you I have had great cause for anxiety.  I have something
+to tell you, yet scarcely know how to tell it, or whether I should tell
+it at all.
+
+"I have not been quite well for some days past, and poor old Jup annoys
+me, almost beyond endurance, by his well-meant attentions.  Would you
+believe it?--he had prepared a huge stick, the other day, with which to
+chastise me for giving him the slip, and spending the day, solus, among
+the hills on the main land.  I verily believe that my ill looks alone
+saved me a flogging.
+
+"I have made no addition to my cabinet since we met.
+
+"If you can, in any way, make it convenient, come over with Jupiter.
+Do come.  I wish to see you to-night, upon business of importance.  I
+assure you that it is of the highest importance.
+
+"Ever yours,
+  "William Legrand."
+
+
+There was something in the tone of this note which gave me great
+uneasiness.  Its whole style differed materially from that of Legrand.
+What could he be dreaming of?  What new crotchet possessed his
+excitable brain?  What "business of the highest importance" could he
+possibly have to transact?  Jupiter's account of him boded no good.  I
+dreaded lest the continued pressure of misfortune had, at length,
+fairly unsettled the reason of my friend.  Without a moment's
+hesitation, therefore, I prepared to accompany the negro.
+
+Upon reaching the wharf, I noticed a scythe and three spades, all
+apparently new, lying in the bottom of the boat in which we were to
+embark.
+
+"What is the meaning of all this, Jup?" I inquired.
+
+"Him syfe, massa, and spade."
+
+"Very true; but what are they doing here?"
+
+"Him de syfe and de spade what Massa Will sis pon my buying for him in
+de town, and de debbil's own lot of money I had to gib for 'em."
+
+"But what, in the name of all that is mysterious, is your 'Massa Will'
+going to do with scythes and spades?"
+
+"Dat's more dan _I_ know, and debbil take me if I don't b'lieve 'tis
+more dan he know, too.  But it's all cum ob de bug."
+
+Finding that no satisfaction was to be obtained of Jupiter, whose whole
+intellect seemed to be absorbed by "de bug," I now stepped into the
+boat, and made sail.  With a fair and strong breeze we soon ran into
+the little cove to the northward of Port Moultrie, and a walk of some
+two miles brought us to the hut.  It was about three in the afternoon
+when we arrived.  Legrand had been awaiting us in eager expectation.
+He grasped my hand with a nervous _empressement_ which alarmed me and
+strengthened the suspicions already entertained.  His countenance was
+pale even to ghastliness, and his deep-set eyes glared with unnatural
+lustre.  After some inquiries respecting his health, I asked him, not
+knowing what better to say, if he had yet obtained the _scarabaeus_
+from Lieutenant G----.
+
+"Oh, yes," he replied, coloring violently, "I got it from him the next
+morning.  Nothing should tempt me to part with that _scarabaeus_.  Do
+you know that Jupiter is quite right about it?"
+
+"In what way?" I asked, with a sad foreboding at heart.
+
+"In supposing it to be a bug of real gold."  He said this with an air
+of profound seriousness, and I felt inexpressibly shocked.
+
+"This bug is to make my fortune," he continued, with a triumphant
+smile; "to reinstate me in my family possessions.  Is it any wonder,
+then, that I prize it?  Since Fortune has thought fit to bestow it upon
+me, I have only to use it properly, and I shall arrive at the gold of
+which it is the index.  Jupiter, bring me that _scarabaeus_!"
+
+"What! de bug, massa?  I'd rudder not go fer trubble dat bug; you mus'
+git him for your own self."  Hereupon Legrand arose, with a grave and
+stately air, and brought me the beetle from a glass case in which it
+was enclosed.  It was a beautiful _scarabaeus_, and, at that time,
+unknown to naturalists--of course a great prize in a scientific point
+of view.  There were two round black spots near one extremity of the
+back, and a long one near the other.  The scales were exceedingly hard
+and glossy, with all the appearance of burnished gold.  The weight of
+the insect was very remarkable, and, taking all things into
+consideration, I could hardly blame Jupiter for his opinion respecting
+it; but what to make of Legrand's concordance with that opinion, I
+could not, for the life of me, tell.
+
+"I sent for you," said he, in a grandiloquent tone, when I had
+completed my examination of the beetle, "I sent for you that I might
+have your counsel and assistance in furthering the views of Fate and of
+the frag--"
+
+"My dear Legrand," I cried, interrupting him, "you are certainly
+unwell, and had better use some little precautions.  You shall go to
+bed, and I will remain with you a few days, until you get over this.
+You are feverish and--"
+
+"Feel my pulse," said he.
+
+I felt it, and to say the truth, found not the slightest indication of
+fever.
+
+"But you may be ill and yet have no fever.  Allow me this once to
+prescribe for you.  In the first place, go to bed.  In the next--"
+
+"You are mistaken," he interposed, "I am as well as I can expect to be
+under the excitement which I suffer.  If you really wish me well, you
+will relieve this excitement."
+
+"And how is this to be done?"
+
+"Very easily.  Jupiter and myself are going upon an expedition into the
+hills, upon the mainland, and, in this expedition, we shall need the
+aid of some person in whom we can confide.  You are the only one we can
+trust.  Whether we succeed or fail, the excitement which you now
+perceive in me will be equally allayed."
+
+"I am anxious to oblige you in any way," I replied; "but do you mean to
+say that this infernal beetle has any connection with your expedition
+into the hills?"
+
+"It has."
+
+"Then, Legrand, I can become a party to no such absurd proceeding."
+
+"I am sorry--very sorry--for we shall have to try it by ourselves."
+
+"Try it by yourselves!  The man is surely mad!--but stay!--how long do
+you propose to be absent?"
+
+"Probably all night.  We shall start immediately, and be back, at all
+events, by sunrise."
+
+"And will you promise me, upon your honor, that when this freak of
+yours is over, and the bug business (good God!) settled to your
+satisfaction, you will then return home and follow my advice
+implicitly, as that of your physician?"
+
+"Yes; I promise; and now let us be off, for we have no time to lose."
+
+With a heavy heart I accompanied my friend.  We started about four
+o'clock--Legrand, Jupiter, the dog, and myself.  Jupiter had with him
+the scythe and spades--the whole of which he insisted upon
+carrying--more through fear, it seemed to me, of trusting either of the
+implements within reach of his master, than from any excess of industry
+or complaisance.  His demeanor was dogged in the extreme, and "dat
+deuced bug" were the sole words which escaped his lips during the
+journey.  For my own part, I had charge of a couple of dark lanterns,
+while Legrand contented himself with the _scarabaeus_, which he carried
+attached to the end of a bit of whip-cord; twirling it to and fro, with
+the air of a conjurer, as he went.  When I observed this last, plain
+evidence of my friend's aberration of mind, I could scarcely refrain
+from tears.  I thought it best, however, to humor his fancy, at least
+for the present, or until I could adopt some more energetic measures
+with a chance of success.  In the meantime I endeavored, but all in
+vain, to sound him in regard to the object of the expedition.  Having
+succeeded in inducing me to accompany him, he seemed unwilling to hold
+conversation upon any topic of minor importance, and to all my
+questions vouchsafed no other reply than "we shall see!"
+
+We crossed the creek at the head of the island by means of a skiff,
+and, ascending the high grounds on the shore of the main land,
+proceeded in a northwesterly direction, through a tract of country
+excessively wild and desolate, where no trace of a human footstep was
+to be seen.  Legrand led the way with decision; pausing only for an
+instant, here and there, to consult what appeared to be certain
+landmarks of his own contrivance upon a former occasion.
+
+In this manner we journeyed for about two hours, and the sun was just
+setting when we entered a region infinitely more dreary than any yet
+seen.  It was a species of table-land, near the summit of an almost
+inaccessible hill, densely wooded from base to pinnacle, and
+interspersed with huge crags that appeared to lie loosely upon the
+soil, and in many cases were prevented from precipitating themselves
+into the valleys below, merely by the support of the trees against
+which they reclined.  Deep ravines, in various directions, gave an air
+of still sterner solemnity to the scene.
+
+The natural platform to which we had clambered was thickly overgrown
+with brambles, through which we soon discovered that it would have been
+impossible to force our way but for the scythe; and Jupiter, by
+direction of his master, proceeded to clear for us a path to the foot
+of an enormously tall tulip-tree, which stood, with some eight or ten
+oaks, upon the level, and far surpassed them all, and all other trees
+which I had then ever seen, in the beauty of its foliage and form, in
+the wide spread of its branches, and in the general majesty of its
+appearance.  When we reached this tree, Legrand turned to Jupiter, and
+asked him if he thought he could climb it.  The old man seemed a little
+staggered by the question, and for some moments made no reply.  At
+length he approached the huge trunk, walked slowly around it and
+examined it with minute attention.  When he had completed his scrutiny,
+he merely said:
+
+"Yes, massa, Jup climb any tree he eber see in he life."
+
+"Then up with you as soon as possible for it will soon be too dark to
+see what we are about."
+
+"How far mus' go up, massa?" inquired Jupiter.
+
+"Get up the main trunk first, and then I will tell you which way to
+go--and here--stop! take this beetle with you."
+
+"De bug, Massa Will!--de goole-bug!" cried the negro, drawing back in
+dismay--"what for mus tote de bug way up de tree?--d--n if I do!"
+
+"If you are afraid, Jup, a great big negro like you, to take hold of a
+harmless little dead beetle, why you can carry it up by this
+string--but, if you do not take it up with you in some way, I shall be
+under the necessity of breaking your head with this shovel."
+
+"What de matter now, massa?" said Jup, evidently shamed into
+compliance; "always want for to raise fuss wid old nigger.  Was only
+funnin, anyhow.  Me feered de bug! what I keer for de bug?"  Here he
+took cautiously hold of the extreme end of the string, and, maintaining
+the insect as far from his person as circumstances would permit,
+prepared to ascend the tree.
+
+In youth, the tulip-tree, or _Liriodendron Tulipiferum_, the most
+magnificent of American foresters, has a trunk peculiarly smooth, and
+often rises to a great height without lateral branches; but, in its
+riper age, the bark becomes gnarled and uneven, while many short limbs
+make their appearance on the stem.  Thus the difficulty of ascension,
+in the present case, lay more in semblance than in reality.  Embracing
+the huge cylinder, as closely as possible with his arms and knees,
+seizing with his hands some projections, and resting his naked toes
+upon others, Jupiter, after one or two narrow escapes from falling, at
+length wriggled himself into the first great fork, and seemed to
+consider the whole business as virtually accomplished.  The _risk_ of
+the achievement was, in fact, now over, although the climber was some
+sixty or seventy feet from the ground.
+
+"Which way mus go now, Massa Will?" he asked.
+
+"Keep up the largest branch--the one on this side," said Legrand.  The
+negro obeyed him promptly, and apparently with but little trouble;
+ascending higher and higher, until no glimpse of his squat figure could
+be obtained through the dense foliage which enveloped it.  Presently
+his voice was heard in a sort of halloo.
+
+"How much fudder is got for go?"
+
+"How high up are you?" asked Legrand.
+
+"Ebber so fur," replied the negro; "can see de sky fru de top ob de
+tree."
+
+"Never mind the sky, but attend to what I say.  Look down the trunk and
+count the limbs below you on this side.  How many limbs have you
+passed?"
+
+"One, two, tree, four, fibe--I done pass fibe big limb, massa, 'pon dis
+side."
+
+"Then go one limb higher."
+
+In a few minutes the voice was heard again, announcing that the seventh
+limb was attained.
+
+"Now, Jup," cried Legrand, evidently much excited, "I want you to work
+your way out upon that limb as far as you can.  If you see anything
+strange let me know."
+
+By this time what little doubt I might have entertained of my poor
+friend's insanity was put finally at rest.  I had no alternative but to
+conclude him stricken with lunacy, and I became seriously anxious about
+getting him home.  While I was pondering upon what was best to be done,
+Jupiter's voice was again heard.
+
+"Mos feered for to ventur pon dis limb berry far--'tis dead limb putty
+much all de way."
+
+"Did you say it was a _dead_ limb, Jupiter?" cried Legrand in a
+quavering voice.
+
+"Yes, massa, him dead as de door-nail--done up for sartin--done
+departed dis here life."
+
+"What in the name of heaven shall I do?" asked Legrand, seemingly in
+the greatest distress.
+
+"Do!" said I, glad of an opportunity to interpose a word, "why, come
+home and go to bed.  Come now!--that's a fine fellow.  It's getting
+late, and, besides, you remember your promise."
+
+"Jupiter," cried he, without heeding me in the least, "do you hear me?"
+
+"Yes, Massa Will, hear you ebber so plain."
+
+"Try the wood well, then, with your knife, and see if you think it very
+rotten."
+
+"Him rotten, massa, sure nuff," replied the negro in a few moments,
+"but not so berry rotten as mought be.  Mought venture our leetle way
+pon de limb by myself, dat's true."
+
+"By yourself!--what do you mean?"
+
+"Why, I mean de bug.  'Tis _berry_ hebby bug.  Spose I drop him down
+fuss, and den de limb won't break wid just de weight of one nigger."
+
+"You infernal scoundrel!" cried Legrand, apparently much relieved,
+"what do you mean by telling me such nonsense as that?  As sure as you
+drop that beetle I'll break your neck.  Look here, Jupiter, do you hear
+me?"
+
+"Yes, massa, needn't hollo at poor nigger dat style."
+
+"Well! now listen!--if you will venture out on the limb as far as you
+think safe, and not let go the beetle, I'll make you a present of a
+silver dollar as soon as you get down."
+
+"I'm gwine, Massa Will--deed I is," replied the negro very
+promptly--"mos out to the eend now."
+
+"_Out to the end!_" here fairly screamed Legrand; "do you say you are
+out to the end of that limb?"
+
+"Soon be to the eend, massa--o-o-o-o-oh!  Lor-gol-a-mercy! what _is_
+dis here pon de tree?"
+
+"Well!" cried Legrand, highly delighted, "what is it?"
+
+"Why, 'taint noffin but a skull--somebody bin lef him head up de tree,
+and de crows done gobble ebery bit ob de meat off."
+
+"A skull, you say!--very well--how is it fastened to the limb?--what
+holds it on?"
+
+"Sure nuff, massa; mus look.  Why dis berry curious sarcumstance, pon
+my word--dare's a great big nail in de skull, what fastens ob it on to
+de tree."
+
+"Well now, Jupiter, do exactly as I tell you--do you hear?"
+
+"Yes, massa."
+
+"Pay attention, then--find the left eye of the skull."
+
+"Hum! hoo! dat's good! why dey ain't no eye lef at all."
+
+"Curse your stupidity! do you know your right hand from your left?"
+
+"Yes, I knows dat--knows all about dat--'tis my lef hand what I chops
+de wood wid."
+
+"To be sure! you are left-handed; and your left eye is on the same side
+as your left hand.  Now, I suppose, you can find the left eye of the
+skull, or the place where the left eye has been.  Have you found it?"
+
+Here was a long pause.  At length the negro asked:
+
+"Is de lef eye of de skull pon de same side as de lef hand of de skull,
+too?--cause de skull aint got not a bit ob a hand at all--nebber mind!
+I got de lef eye now--here de lef eye! what mus do wid it?"
+
+"Let the beetle drop through it, as far as the string will reach--but
+be careful and not let go your hold of the string."
+
+"All dat done, Massa Will; mighty easy ting for to put de bug fru de
+hole--look out for him dare below!"
+
+During this colloquy no portion of Jupiter's person could be seen; but
+the beetle, which he had suffered to descend, was now visible at the
+end of the string, and glistened, like a globe of burnished gold, in
+the last rays of the setting sun, some of which still faintly illumined
+the eminence upon which we stood.  The _scarabaeus_ hung quite clear of
+any branches, and, if allowed to fall, would have fallen at our feet.
+Legrand immediately took the scythe, and cleared with it a circular
+space, three or four yards in diameter, just beneath the insect, and
+having accomplished this, ordered Jupiter to let go the string and come
+down from the tree.
+
+Driving a peg, with great nicety, into the ground, at the precise spot
+where the beetle fell, my friend now produced from his pocket a
+tape-measure.  Fastening one end of this at that point of the trunk of
+the tree which was nearest the peg, he unrolled it till it reached the
+peg and thence further unrolled it, in the direction already
+established by the two points of the tree and the peg, for the distance
+of fifty feet--Jupiter clearing away the brambles with the scythe.  At
+the spot thus attained a second peg was driven, and about this, as a
+centre, a rude circle, about four feet in diameter, described.  Taking
+now a spade himself, and giving one to Jupiter and one to me, Legrand
+begged us to set about digging as quickly as possible.
+
+To speak the truth, I had no especial relish for such amusement at any
+time, and, at that particular moment, would willingly have declined it;
+for the night was coming on, and I felt much fatigued with the exercise
+already taken; but I saw no mode of escape, and was fearful of
+disturbing my poor friend's equanimity by a refusal.  Could I have
+depended, indeed, upon Jupiter's aid, I would have had no hesitation in
+attempting to get the lunatic home by force; but I was too well assured
+of the old negro's disposition to hope that he would assist me, under
+any circumstances, in a personal contest with his master.  I made no
+doubt that the latter had been infected with some of the innumerable
+Southern superstitions about money buried, and that his phantasy had
+received confirmation by the finding of the _scarabaeus_, or, perhaps,
+by Jupiter's obstinacy in maintaining it to be "a bug of real gold."  A
+mind disposed to lunacy would readily be led away by such
+suggestions--especially if chiming in with favorite preconceived
+ideas--and then I called to mind the poor fellow's speech about the
+beetle's being "the index of his fortune."  Upon the whole, I was sadly
+vexed and puzzled, but, at length, I concluded to make a virtue of
+necessity--to dig with a good will, and thus the sooner to convince the
+visionary, by ocular demonstration, of the fallacy of the opinion he
+entertained.
+
+The lanterns having been lit, we all fell to work with a zeal worthy a
+more rational cause; and, as the glare fell upon our persons and
+implements, I could not help thinking how picturesque a group we
+composed, and how strange and suspicious our labors must have appeared
+to any interloper who, by chance, might have stumbled upon our
+whereabout.
+
+We dug very steadily for two hours.  Little was said; and our chief
+embarrassment lay in the yelpings of the dog, who took exceeding
+interest in our proceedings.  He, at length, became so obstreperous
+that we grew fearful of his giving the alarm to some stragglers in the
+vicinity--or, rather, this was the apprehension of Legrand;--for
+myself, I should have rejoiced at any interruption which might have
+enabled me to get the wanderer home.  The noise was, at length, very
+effectually silenced by Jupiter, who, getting out of the hole with a
+dogged air of deliberation, tied the brute's mouth up with one of his
+suspenders, and then returned, with a grave chuckle, to his task.
+
+When the time mentioned had expired, we had reached a depth of five
+feet, and yet no signs of any treasure became manifest.  A general
+pause ensued, and I began to hope that the farce was at an end.
+Legrand, however, although evidently much disconcerted, wiped his brow
+thoughtfully and recommenced.  We had excavated the entire circle of
+four feet diameter, and now we slightly enlarged the limit, and went to
+the further depth of two feet.  Still nothing appeared.  The
+gold-seeker, whom I sincerely pitied, at length clambered from the pit,
+with the bitterest disappointment imprinted upon every feature, and
+proceeded, slowly and reluctantly, to put on his coat, which he had
+thrown off at the beginning of his labor.  In the meantime I made no
+remark.  Jupiter, at a signal from his master, began to gather up his
+tools.  This done, and the dog having been unmuzzled, we turned in
+profound silence toward home.
+
+We had taken, perhaps, a dozen steps in this direction, when, with a
+loud oath, Legrand strode up to Jupiter, and seized him by the collar.
+The astonished negro opened his eyes and mouth to the fullest extent,
+let fall the spades, and fell upon his knees.
+
+"You scoundrel!" said Legrand, hissing out the syllables from between
+his clinched teeth--"you infernal black villain!--speak, I tell
+you!--answer me this instant, without prevarication!--which--which is
+your left eye?"
+
+"Oh, my golly, Massa Will! aint dis here my lef eye for attain?" roared
+the terrified Jupiter, placing his hand upon his right organ of vision,
+and holding it there with a desperate pertinacity, as if in immediate
+dread of his master's attempt at a gouge.
+
+"I thought so!--I knew it! hurrah!" vociferated Legrand, letting the
+negro go and executing a series of curvets and caracols, much to the
+astonishment of his valet, who, arising from his knees, looked, mutely,
+from his master to myself, and then from myself to his master.
+
+"Come! we must go back," said the latter, "the game's not up yet;" and
+he again led the way to the tulip-tree.
+
+"Jupiter," said he, when we reached its foot, "come here! was the skull
+nailed to the limb with the face outward, or with the face to the limb?"
+
+"De face was out, massa, so dat de crows could get at de eyes good,
+widout any trouble."
+
+"Well, then, was it this eye or that through which you dropped the
+beetle?" here Legrand touched each of Jupiter's eyes.
+
+"'Twas dis eye, massa--de lef eye--jis as you tell me," and here it was
+his right eye that the negro indicated.
+
+"That will do--we must try it again."
+
+Here my friend, about whose madness I now saw, or fancied that I saw,
+certain indications of method, removed the peg which marked the spot
+where the beetle fell, to a spot about three inches to the westward of
+its former position.  Taking, now, the tape measure from the nearest
+point of the trunk to the peg, as before, and continuing the extension
+in a straight line to the distance of fifty feet, a spot was indicated,
+removed, by several yards, from the point at which we had been digging.
+
+Around the new position a circle, somewhat larger than in the former
+instance, was now described, and we again set to work with the spade.
+I was dreadfully weary, but, scarcely understanding what had occasioned
+the change in my thoughts, I felt no longer any great aversion from the
+labor imposed.  I had become most unaccountably interested--nay, even
+excited.  Perhaps there was something, amid all the extravagant
+demeanor of Legrand--some air of forethought, or of deliberation, which
+impressed me.  I dug eagerly, and now and then caught myself actually
+looking, with something that very much resembled expectation, for the
+fancied treasure, the vision of which had demented my unfortunate
+companion.  At a period when such vagaries of thought most fully
+possessed me, and when we had been at work perhaps an hour and a half,
+we were again interrupted by the violent howlings of the dog.  His
+uneasiness, in the first instance, had been, evidently, but the result
+of playfulness or caprice, but he now assumed a bitter and serious
+tone.  Upon Jupiter's again attempting to muzzle him, he made furious
+resistance, and, leaping into the hole, tore up the mould frantically
+with his claws.  In a few seconds he had uncovered a mass of human
+bones, forming two complete skeletons, intermingled with several
+buttons of metal, and what appeared to be the dust of decayed woollen.
+One or two strokes of a spade upturned the blade of a large Spanish
+knife, and, as we dug further, three or four loose pieces of gold and
+silver coin came to light.
+
+At sight of these the joy of Jupiter could scarcely be restrained, but
+the countenance of his master wore an air of extreme disappointment.
+He urged us, however, to continue our exertions, and the words were
+hardly uttered when I stumbled and fell forward, having caught the toe
+of my boot in a large ring of iron that lay half buried in the loose
+earth.
+
+We now worked in earnest, and never did I pass ten minutes of more
+intense excitement.  During this interval we had fairly unearthed an
+oblong chest of wood, which, from its perfect preservation and
+wonderful hardness, had plainly been subjected to some mineralizing
+process--perhaps that of the bi-chloride of mercury.  This box was
+three feet and a half long, three feet broad, and two and a half feet
+deep.  It was firmly secured by bands of wrought iron, riveted, and
+forming a kind of open trellis-work over the whole.  On each side of
+the chest, near the top, were three rings of iron--six in all--by means
+of which a firm hold could be obtained by six persons.  Our utmost
+united endeavors served only to disturb the coffer very slightly in its
+bed.  We at once saw the impossibility of removing so great a weight.
+Luckily, the sole fastenings of the lid consisted of two sliding bolts.
+These we drew back--trembling and panting with anxiety.  In an instant,
+a treasure of incalculable value lay gleaming before us.  As the rays
+of the lanterns fell within the pit, there flashed upward a glow and a
+glare, from a confused heap of gold and of jewels, that absolutely
+dazzled our eyes.
+
+I shall not pretend to describe the feelings with which I gazed.
+Amazement was, of course, predominant.  Legrand appeared exhausted with
+excitement, and spoke very few words.  Jupiter's countenance wore, for
+some minutes, as deadly a pallor as it is possible, in the nature of
+things, for any negro's visage to assume.  He seemed
+stupefied--thunderstricken.  Presently he fell upon his knees in the
+pit, and burying his naked arms up to the elbows in gold, let them
+there remain, as if enjoying the luxury of a bath.  At length, with a
+deep sigh, he exclaimed, as if in a soliloquy:
+
+"And dis all cum ob de goole-bug! de putty goole-bug! de poor little
+goole-bug, what I boosed in that sabage kind ob style!  Aint you shamed
+ob yourself, nigger?--answer me dat!"
+
+It became necessary, at last, that I should arouse both master and
+valet to the expediency of removing the treasure.  It was growing late,
+and it behooved us to make exertion, that we might get everything
+housed before daylight.  It was difficult to say what should be done,
+and much time was spent in deliberation--so confused were the ideas of
+all.  We, finally, lightened the box by removing two-thirds of its
+contents, when we were enabled, with some trouble, to raise it from the
+hole.  The articles taken out were deposited among the brambles, and
+the dog left to guard them, with strict orders from Jupiter neither,
+upon any pretence, to stir from the spot, nor to open his mouth until
+our return.  We then hurriedly made for home with the chest; reaching
+the hut in safety, but after excessive toil, at one o'clock in the
+morning.  Worn out as we were, it was not in human nature to do more
+immediately.  We rested until two, and had supper; starting for the
+hills immediately afterward, armed with three stout sacks, which, by
+good luck, were upon the premises.  A little before four we arrived at
+the pit, divided the remainder of the booty, as equally as might be,
+among us, and, leaving the holes unfilled, again set out for the hut,
+at which, for the second time, we deposited our golden burdens, just as
+the first faint streaks of the dawn gleamed from over the tree-tops in
+the East.
+
+We were now thoroughly broken down; but the intense excitement of the
+time denied us repose.  After an unquiet slumber of some three or four
+hours' duration, we arose, as if by preconcert, to make examination of
+our treasure.
+
+The chest had been full to the brim, and we spent the whole day, and
+the greater part of the next night, in a scrutiny of its contents.
+There had been nothing like order or arrangement.  Everything had been
+heaped in promiscuously.  Having assorted all with care, we found
+ourselves possessed of even vaster wealth than we had at first
+supposed.  In coin, there was rather more than four hundred and fifty
+thousand dollars--estimating the value of the pieces, as accurately as
+we could, by the tables of the period.  There was not a particle of
+silver.  All was gold of antique date and of great variety--French,
+Spanish, and German money, with a few English guineas, and some
+counters, of which we had never seen specimens before.  There were
+several very large and heavy coins, so worn that we could make nothing
+of their inscriptions.  There was no American money.  The value of the
+jewels we found more difficulty in estimating.  There were
+diamonds--some of them exceedingly large and fine--a hundred and ten in
+all, and not one of them small; eighteen rubies of remarkable
+brilliancy;--three hundred and ten emeralds, all very beautiful; and
+twenty-one sapphires, with an opal.  These stones had all been broken
+from their settings and thrown loose in the chest.  The settings
+themselves, which we picked out from among the other gold, appeared to
+have been beaten up with hammers, as if to prevent identification.
+Besides all this, there was a vast quantity of solid gold ornaments;
+nearly two hundred massive finger and ear rings; rich chains--thirty of
+these, if I remember; eighty-three very large and heavy crucifixes;
+five gold censers of great value; a prodigious golden punch-bowl,
+ornamented with richly chased vine-leaves and Bacchanalian figures;
+with two sword-handles exquisitely embossed, and many other smaller
+articles which I can not recollect.  The weight of these valuables
+exceeded three hundred and fifty pounds avoirdupois; and in this
+estimate I have not included one hundred and ninety-seven superb gold
+watches; three of the number being worth each five hundred dollars, if
+one.  Many of them were very old, and as timekeepers, valueless; the
+works having suffered, more or less, from corrosion--but all were
+richly jewelled and in cases of great worth.  We estimated the entire
+contents of the chest, that night, at a million and a half of dollars;
+and upon the subsequent disposal of the trinkets and jewels (a few
+being retained for our own use), it was found that we had greatly
+undervalued the treasure.
+
+When, at length, we had concluded our examination, and the intense
+excitement of the time had, in some measure, subsided, Legrand, who saw
+that I was dying with impatience for a solution of this most
+extraordinary riddle, entered into a full detail of all the
+circumstances connected with it.
+
+"You remember," said he, "the night when I handed you the rough sketch
+I had made of the _scarabaeus_.  You recollect, also, that I became
+quite vexed at you for insisting that my drawing resembled a
+death's-head.  When you first made this assertion I thought you were
+jesting; but afterward I called to mind the peculiar spots on the back
+of the insect, and admitted to myself that your remark had some little
+foundation in fact.  Still, the sneer at my graphic powers irritated
+me--for I am considered a good artist--and, therefore, when you handed
+me the scrap of parchment, I was about to crumple it up and throw it
+angrily into the fire."
+
+"The scrap of paper, you mean," said I.
+
+"No; it had much of the appearance of paper, and at first I supposed it
+to be such, but when I came to draw upon it, I discovered it at once to
+be a piece of very thin parchment.  It was quite dirty, you remember.
+Well, as I was in the very act of crumpling it up, my glance fell upon
+the sketch at which you had been looking, and you may imagine my
+astonishment when I perceived, in fact, the figure of a death's-head
+just where, it seemed to me, I had made the drawing of the beetle.  For
+a moment I was too much amazed to think with accuracy.  I knew that my
+design was very different in detail from this--although there was a
+certain similarity in general outline.  Presently I took a candle, and
+seating myself at the other end of the room, proceeded to scrutinize
+the parchment more closely.  Upon turning it over, I saw my own sketch
+upon the reverse, just as I had made it.  My first idea, now, was mere
+surprise at the really remarkable similarity of outline--at the
+singular coincidence involved in the fact that, unknown to me, there
+should have been a skull upon the other side of the parchment,
+immediately beneath my figure of the _scarabaeus_, and that this skull,
+not only in outline but in size, should so closely resemble my drawing.
+I say the singularity of this coincidence absolutely stupefied me for a
+time.  This is the usual effect of such coincidences.  The mind
+struggles to establish a connection--a sequence of cause and
+effect--and, being unable to do so, suffers a species of temporary
+paralysis.  But, when I recovered from this stupor, there dawned upon
+me gradually a conviction which startled me even far more than the
+coincidence.  I began distinctly, positively, to remember that there
+had been no drawing upon the parchment when I made my sketch of the
+_scarabaeus_.  I became perfectly certain of this; for I recollected
+turning up first one side and then the other, in search of the cleanest
+spot.  Had the skull been then there, of course I could not have failed
+to notice it.  Here was indeed a mystery which I felt it impossible to
+explain; but, even at that early moment, there seemed to glimmer,
+faintly, within the most remote and secret chambers of my intellect, a
+glow-worm-like conception of that truth which last night's adventure
+brought to so magnificent a demonstration.  I arose at once, and,
+putting the parchment securely away, dismissed all further reflection
+until I should be alone.
+
+"When you had gone, and when Jupiter was fast asleep, I betook myself
+to a more methodical investigation of the affair.  In the first place,
+I considered the manner in which the parchment had come into my
+possession.  The spot where we discovered the _scarabaeus_ was on the
+coast of the mainland, about a mile eastward of the island, and but a
+short distance above high-water mark.  Upon my taking hold of it, it
+gave me a sharp bite, which caused me to let it drop.  Jupiter, with
+his accustomed caution, before seizing the insect, which had flown
+toward him, looked about him for a leaf, or something of that nature,
+by which to take hold of it.  It was at this moment that his eyes, and
+mine also, fell upon the scrap of parchment, which I then supposed to
+be paper.  It was lying half buried in the sand, a corner sticking up.
+Near the spot where we found it, I observed the remnants of the hull of
+what appeared to have been a ship's long-boat.  The wreck seemed to
+have been there for a very great while; for the resemblance to boat
+timbers could scarcely be traced.
+
+"Well, Jupiter picked up the parchment, wrapped the beetle in it, and
+gave it to me.  Soon afterward we turned to go home, and on the way met
+Lieutenant G----.  I showed him the insect, and he begged me to let him
+take it to the fort.  Upon my consenting, he thrust it forthwith into
+his waistcoat pocket, without the parchment in which it had been
+wrapped, and which I had continued to hold in my hand during his
+inspection.  Perhaps he dreaded my changing my mind, and thought it
+best to make sure of the prize at once--you know how enthusiastic he is
+on all subjects connected with Natural History.  At the same time,
+without being conscious of it, I must have deposited the parchment in
+my own pocket.
+
+"You remember that when I went to the table for the purpose of making a
+sketch of the beetle, I found no paper where it was usually kept.  I
+looked in the drawer, and found none there.  I searched my pockets,
+hoping to find an old letter, when my hand fell upon the parchment.  I
+thus detail the precise mode in which it came into my possession; for
+the circumstances impressed me with peculiar force.
+
+"No doubt you will think me fanciful--but I had already established a
+kind of connection.  I had put together two links of a great chain.
+There was a boat lying upon a seacoast, and not far from the boat was a
+parchment--_not a paper_--with a skull depicted upon it.  You will, of
+course, ask 'where is the connection?'  I reply that the skull, or
+death's-head, is the well-known emblem of the pirate.  The flag of the
+death's-head is hoisted in all engagements.
+
+"I have said that the scrap was parchment, and not paper.  Parchment is
+durable--almost imperishable.  Matters of little moment are rarely
+consigned to parchment; since, for the mere ordinary purposes of
+drawing or writing, it is not nearly so well adapted as paper.  This
+reflection suggested some meaning--some relevancy--in the death's-head.
+I did not fail to observe, also, the _form_ of the parchment.  Although
+one of its corners had been, by some accident, destroyed, it could be
+seen that the original form was oblong.  It was just such a slip,
+indeed, as might have been chosen for a memorandum--for a record of
+something to be long remembered and carefully preserved."
+
+"But," I interposed, "you say that the skill was not upon the parchment
+when you made the drawing of the beetle.  How then do you trace any
+connection between the boat and the skull---since this latter,
+according to your own admission, must have been designed (God only
+knows how or by whom) at some period subsequent to your sketching the
+_scarabaeus_?"
+
+"Ah, hereupon turns the whole mystery; although the secret, at this
+point, I had comparatively little difficulty in solving.  My steps were
+sure, and could afford but a single result I reasoned, for example,
+thus: When I drew the _scarabaeus_, there was no skull apparent upon
+the parchment When I had completed the drawing I gave it to you, and
+observed you narrowly until you returned it.  You, therefore, did not
+design the skull, and no one else was present to do it.  Then it was
+not done by human agency.  And nevertheless it was done.
+
+"At this stage of my reflections I endeavored to remember, and _did_
+remember, with entire distinctness, every incident which occurred about
+the period in question.  The weather was chilly (oh, rare and happy
+accident!), and a fire was blazing upon the hearth.  I was heated with
+exercise and sat near the table.  You, however, had drawn a chair close
+to the chimney.  Just as I placed the parchment in your hand, and as
+you were in the act of inspecting it, Wolf, the Newfoundland, entered,
+and leaped upon your shoulders.  With your left hand you caressed him
+and kept him off, while your right, holding the parchment, was
+permitted to fall listlessly between your knees, and in close proximity
+to the fire.  At one moment I thought the blaze had caught it, and was
+about to caution you, but, before I could speak, you had withdrawn it,
+and were engaged in its examination.  When I considered all these
+particulars, I doubted not for a moment that heat had been the agent in
+bringing to light, upon the parchment, the skull which I saw designed
+upon it.  You are well aware that chemical preparations exist, and have
+existed time out of mind, by means of which it is possible to write
+upon either paper or vellum, so that the characters shall become
+visible only when subjected to the action of fire.  Zaffre, digested in
+_aqua regia_, and diluted with four times its weight of water, is
+sometimes employed; a green tint results.  The regulus of cobalt,
+dissolved in spirit of nitre, gives a red.  These colors disappear at
+longer or shorter intervals after the material written upon cools, but
+again become apparent upon the reapplication of heat.
+
+"I now scrutinized the death's-head with care.  Its outer edges--the
+edges of the drawing nearest the edge of the vellum--were far more
+_distinct_ than the others.  It was clear that the action of the
+caloric had been imperfect or unequal.  I immediately kindled a fire,
+and subjected every portion of the parchment to a glowing heat.  At
+first, the only effect was the strengthening of the faint lines in the
+skull; but, upon persevering in the experiment, there became visible,
+at the corner of the slip, diagonally opposite to the spot in which the
+death's-head was delineated, the figure of what I at first supposed to
+be a goat.  A closer scrutiny, however, satisfied me that it was
+intended for a kid."
+
+"Ha! ha!" said I, "to be sure I have no right to laugh at you--a
+million and a half of money is too serious a matter for mirth--but you
+are not about to establish a third link in your chain--you will not
+find any especial connection between your pirates and a goat--pirates,
+you know, have nothing to do with goats; they appertain to the farming
+interest."
+
+"But I have just said that the figure was _not_ that of a goat."
+
+"Well, a kid, then--pretty much the same thing."
+
+"Pretty much, but not altogether," said Legrand.  "You may have heard
+of one _Captain_ Kidd.  I at once looked upon the figure of the animal
+as a kind of punning or hieroglyphical signature.  I say signature,
+because, its position upon the vellum suggested this idea.  The
+death's-head at the corner diagonally opposite, had, in the same
+manner, the air of a stamp, or seal.  But I was sorely put out by the
+absence of all else--of the body to my imagined instrument--of the text
+for my context."
+
+"I presume you expected to find a letter between the stamp and the
+signature."
+
+"Something of that kind.  The fact is, I felt irresistibly impressed
+with a presentiment of some vast good fortune impending.  I can
+scarcely say why.  Perhaps, after all, it was rather a desire than an
+actual belief;--but do you know that Jupiter's silly words, about the
+bug being of solid gold, had a remarkable effect upon my fancy?  And
+then the series of accidents and coincidents--these were so _very_
+extraordinary.  Do you observe how mere an accident it was that these
+events should have occurred upon the _sole_ day of all the year in
+which it has been, or may be sufficiently cool for foe, and that
+without the fire, or without the intervention of the dog at the precise
+moment in which he appeared, I should never have become aware of the
+death's-head, and so never the possessor of the treasure?"
+
+"But proceed--I am all impatience."
+
+"Well; you have heard, of course, the many stories current--the
+thousand vague rumors afloat about money buried, somewhere upon the
+Atlantic coast, by Kidd and his associates.  These rumors must have had
+some foundation in fact.  And that the rumors have existed so long and
+so continuously, could have resulted, it appeared to me, only from the
+circumstance of the buried treasures still _remaining_ entombed.  Had
+Kidd concealed his plunder for a time, and afterward reclaimed it, the
+rumors would scarcely have reached us in their present unvarying form.
+You will observe that the stories told are all about money-seekers, not
+about money-finders.  Had the pirate recovered his money, there the
+affair would have dropped.  It seemed to me that some accident--say the
+loss of a memorandum indicating its locality--had deprived him of the
+means of recovering it, and that this accident had become known to his
+followers, who otherwise might never have heard that the treasure had
+been concealed at all, and who, busying themselves in vain, because
+unguided, attempts to regain it, had given first birth, and then
+universal currency, to the reports which are now so common.  Have you
+ever heard of any important treasure being unearthed along the coast?"
+
+"Never."
+
+"But that Kidd's accumulations were immense, is well known.  I took it
+for granted, therefore, that the earth still held them; and you will
+scarcely be surprised when I tell you that I felt a hope, nearly
+amounting to certainty, that the parchment so strangely found involved
+a lost record of the place of deposit."
+
+"But how did you proceed?"
+
+"I held the vellum again to the fire, after increasing the heat, but
+nothing appeared.  I now thought it possible that the coating of dirt
+might have something to do with the failure: so I carefully rinsed the
+parchment by pouring warm water over it, and, having done this, I
+placed it in a tin pan, with the skull downward, and put the pan upon a
+furnace of lighted charcoal.  In a few minutes, the pan having become
+thoroughly heated, I removed the slip, and, to my inexpressible joy,
+found it spotted, in several places, with what appeared to be figures
+arranged in lines.  Again I placed it in the pan, and suffered it to
+remain another minute.  Upon taking it off, the whole was just as you
+see it now."
+
+Here Legrand, having reheated the parchment, submitted it to my
+inspection.  The following characters were rudely traced in a red tint,
+between the death's-head and the goat:
+
+  "53[dd][dd]t3o5))6*;4826)4[dd])4[dd].;8o6*;48[d]8[pilcrow]6o))85
+  ;1[dd](;:[dd]*8[d]83(88)5*[d];46(;88*96e*?;8)*[dd](;485);5*[d]2:*
+  [dd](;4956*2(5*--4)8[pilcrow]8*;4o69285);)6[d]8)4tt;1([dd]9;48o81
+  ;8:8[dd]1;48t85;4)485[d]5288o6*81([dd]9;48;(88;4([dd]
+  ?34;48)4[dd];161;:188:188;[dd]?;"
+
+[Transcriber's note: "[d]" indicates the dagger symbol, "[dd]"
+indicates the double-dagger symbol, and "[pilcrow]" indicates the
+pilcrow symbol.]
+
+"But," said I, returning him the slip, "I am as much in the dark as
+ever.  Were all the jewels of Golconda awaiting me upon my solution of
+this enigma, I am quite sure that I should be unable to earn them."
+
+"And yet," said Legrand, "the solution is by no means so difficult as
+you might be led to imagine from the first hasty inspection of the
+characters.  These characters, as any one might readily guess, form a
+cipher--that is to say, they convey a meaning; but then from what is
+known of Kidd, I could not suppose him capable of constructing any of
+the more abstruse cryptographs, I made up my mind, at once, that this
+was of a simple species--such, however, as would appear, to the crude
+intellect of the sailor, absolutely insoluble without the key."
+
+"And you really solved it?"
+
+"Readily; I have solved others of an abstruseness ten thousand times
+greater.  Circumstances, and a certain bias of mind, have led me to
+take interest in such riddles, and it may well be doubted whether human
+ingenuity can construct an enigma of the kind which human ingenuity may
+not, by proper application, resolve.  In fact, having once established
+connected and legible characters, I scarcely gave a thought to the mere
+difficulty of developing their import.
+
+"In the present case--indeed, in all cases of secret writing--the first
+question regards the _language_ of the cipher; for the principles of
+solution, so far, especially, as the more simple ciphers are concerned,
+depend upon, and are varied by, the genius of the particular idiom.  In
+general, there is no alternative but experiment (directed by
+probabilities) of every tongue known to him who attempts the solution,
+until the true one be attained.  But, with the cipher now before us all
+difficulty was removed by the signature.  The pun upon the word 'Kidd'
+is appreciable in no other language than the English.  But for this
+consideration I should have begun my attempts with Spanish and French,
+as the tongues in which a secret of this kind would most naturally have
+been written by a pirate of the Spanish, main.  As it was, I assumed
+the cryptograph to be English.
+
+"You observe there are no divisions between the words.  Had there been
+divisions the task would have been comparatively easy.  In such cases I
+should have commenced with a collation and analysis of the shorter
+words, and, had a word of a single letter occurred, as is most likely
+(_a_ or _I_, for example), I should have considered the solution as
+assured.  But, there being no division, my first step was to ascertain
+the predominant letters, as well as the least frequent.  Counting all,
+I constructed a table thus:
+
+    Of the characters 8 there are 33.
+                      ;     "     26
+                      4     "     19
+                      *     "     16
+       [double dagger])     "     13
+                      5     "     14
+                      6     "     11
+              [dagger]1     "      8
+                      o     "      6
+                     92     "      5
+                     :3     "      4
+                      ?     "      3
+              [pilcrow]     "      2
+                    --.     "      1
+
+
+"Now, in English, the letter which most frequently occurs is _e_.
+Afterward, the succession runs thus: _a o i d h n r s t u y c f g l m w
+b k p q x z_.  E predominates so remarkably, that an individual
+sentence of any length is rarely seen, in which it is not the
+prevailing character.
+
+"Here, then, we have, in the very beginning, the groundwork for
+something more than a mere guess.  The general use which may be made of
+the table is obvious--but, in this particular cipher, we shall only
+very partially require its aid.  As our predominant character is 8, we
+will commence by assuming it as the _e_ of the natural alphabet.  To
+verify the supposition, let us observe if the 8 be seen often in
+couples--for _e_ is doubled with great frequency in English--in such
+words, for example, as 'meet,' 'fleet,' 'speed,' 'seen,' 'been,'
+'agree,' etc.  In the present instance we see it doubled no less than
+five times, although the cryptograph is brief.
+
+"Let us assume 8, then, as _e_.  Now, of all _words_ in the language,
+'the' is most usual; let us see, therefore, whether there are not
+repetitions of any three characters, in the same order of collocation,
+the last of them being 8.  If we discover repetitions of such letters,
+so arranged, they will most probably represent the word 'the.'  Upon
+inspection, we find no less than seven such arrangements, the
+characters being ;48.  We may, therefore, assume that ; represents _t_,
+4 represents _h_, and 8 represents _e_--the last being now well
+confirmed.  Thus a great step has been taken.
+
+"But, having established a single word, we are enabled to establish a
+vastly important point; that is to say, several commencements and
+terminations of other words.  Let us refer, for example, to the last
+instance but one, in which the combination ;48 occurs--not far from the
+end of the cipher.  We know that the ; immediately ensuing is the
+commencement of a word, and, of six characters succeeding this 'the,'
+we are cognizant of no less than five.  Let us set these characters
+down, thus, by the letters we know them to represent, leaving a space
+for the unknown--
+
+  t eeth.
+
+
+"Here we are enabled, at once, to discard the '_th_,' as forming no
+portion of the word commencing with the first _t_; since, by experiment
+of the entire alphabet for a letter adapted to the vacancy, we perceive
+that no word can be formed of which this _th_ can be a part.  We are
+thus narrowed into
+
+  t ee,
+
+and, going through the alphabet, if necessary, as before, we arrive at
+the word 'tree,' as the sole possible reading.  We thus gain another
+letter, _r_, represented by (, with the words 'the tree' in
+juxtaposition.
+
+"Looking beyond these words, for a short distance, we again see the
+combination ;48, and employ it by way of termination to what
+immediately precedes.  We have thus this arrangement:
+
+  the tree;4([dagger]?34 the,
+
+or, substituting the natural letters, where known, it reads thus:
+
+  the tree thr[double dagger]?3h the.
+
+
+"Now, if, in the place of the unknown characters, we leave blank
+spaces, or substitute dots, we read thus:
+
+  the tree thr...h the,
+
+when the word 'through' makes itself evident at once.  But this
+discovery gives us three new letters, _o_, _u_, and _g_, represented by
+[double dagger], ?, and 3.
+
+"Looking now, narrowly, through the cipher for combinations of known
+characters, we find, not very far from the beginning, this arrangement,
+
+  83(88, or egree.
+
+which plainly, is the conclusion of the word 'degree,' and gives us
+another letter, _d_, represented by [dagger].
+
+"Four letters beyond the word 'degree,' we perceive the combination
+
+  ;46(;88
+
+
+"Translating the known characters, and representing the unknown by
+dots, as before, we read thus:
+
+  th.rtee,
+
+an arrangement immediately suggestive of the word 'thirteen,' and again
+furnishing us with two new characters, _i_ and _n_, represented by 6
+and *.
+
+"Referring, now, to the beginning of the cryptograph, we find the
+combination,
+
+  53[double dagger][double dagger][dagger].
+
+
+"Translating as before, we obtain
+
+  .good,
+
+which assures us that the first letter is _A_, and that the first two
+words are 'A good.'
+
+"It is now time that we arrange our key, as far as discovered, in a
+tabular form, to avoid confusion.  It will stand thus:
+
+     5           represents a
+  [dagger]            "     d
+     8                "     e
+     3                "     g
+     4                "     h
+     6                "     i
+     *                "     n
+  [double dagger]     "     o
+     (                "     r
+     :                "     t
+     ?                "     u
+
+
+"We have, therefore, no less than eleven of the most important letters
+represented, and it will be unnecessary to proceed with the details of
+the solution.  I have said enough to convince you that ciphers of this
+nature are readily soluble, and to give you some insight into the
+_rationale_ of their development.  But be assured that the specimen
+before us appertains to the very simplest species of cryptograph.  It
+now only remains to give you the full translation of the characters
+upon the parchment, as unriddled.  Here it is:
+
+
+"'_A good glass in the bishop's hostel in the devil's seat forty-one
+degrees and thirteen minutes northeast and by north main branch seventh
+limb east side shoot from the left eye of the death's-head a bee-line
+from the tree through the shot fifty feet out._'"
+
+
+"But," said I, "the enigma seems still in as bad a condition as ever.
+How is it possible to extort a meaning from all this jargon about
+'devil's seats,' 'death's-head,' and 'bishop's hotels?'"
+
+"I confess," replied Legrand, "that the matter still wears a serious
+aspect, when regarded with a casual glance.  My first endeavor was to
+divide the sentence into the natural division intended by the
+cryptographist."
+
+"You mean, to punctuate it?"
+
+"Something of that kind."
+
+"But how was it possible to effect this?"
+
+"I reflected that it had been a point with the writer to run his words
+together without division, so as to increase the difficulty of
+solution.  Now, a not over-acute man, in pursuing such an object, would
+be nearly certain to overdo the matter.  When, in the course of his
+composition, he arrived at a break in his subject which would naturally
+require a pause, or a point, he would be exceedingly apt to run his
+characters, at this place, more than usually close together.  If you
+will observe the MS., in the present instance, you will easily detect
+five such cases of unusual crowding.  Acting upon this hint, I made the
+division thus:
+
+
+"'_A good glass in the bishop's hostel in the devil's seat--forty-one
+degrees and thirteen minutes--northeast and by north--main branch
+seventh limb east side--shoot from the left eye of the death's-head--a
+bee-line from the tree through the shot fifty feet out._'"
+
+
+"Even this division," said I, "leaves me still in the dark."
+
+"It left me also in the dark," replied Legrand, "for a few days; during
+which I made diligent inquiry in the neighborhood of Sullivan's Island,
+for any building which went by name of the 'Bishop's Hotel'; for, of
+course, I dropped the obsolete word 'hostel.'  Gaining no information
+on the subject, I was on the point of extending my sphere of search,
+and proceeding in a more systematic manner, when, one morning, it
+entered into my head, quite suddenly, that this 'Bishop's Hostel' might
+have some reference to an old family, of the name of Bessop, which,
+time out of mind, had held possession of an ancient manor-house, about
+four miles to the northward of the island.  I accordingly went over to
+the plantation, and reinstituted my inquiries among the older negroes
+of the place.  At length one of the most aged of the women said that
+she had heard of such a place as Bessop's Castle, and thought that she
+could guide me to it, but that it was not a castle, nor a tavern, but a
+high rock.
+
+"I offered to pay her well for her trouble, and, after some demur, she
+consented to accompany me to the spot.  We found it without much
+difficulty, when, dismissing her, I proceeded to examine the place.
+The 'castle' consisted of an irregular assemblage of cliffs and
+rocks--one of the latter being quite remarkable for its height as well
+as for its insulated and artificial appearance.  I clambered to its
+apex, and then felt much at a loss as to what should be next done.
+
+"While I was busied in reflection, my eyes fell upon a narrow ledge in
+the eastern face of the rock, perhaps a yard below the summit upon
+which I stood.  This ledge projected about eighteen inches, and was not
+more than a foot wide, while a niche in the cliff just above it gave it
+a rude resemblance to one of the hollow-backed chairs used by our
+ancestors.  I made no doubt that here was the 'devil's-seat' alluded to
+in the MS., and now I seemed to grasp the full secret of the riddle.
+
+"The 'good glass,' I knew, could have reference to nothing but a
+telescope; for the word 'glass' is rarely employed in any other sense
+by seamen.  Now here, I at once saw, was a telescope to be used, and a
+definite point of view, admitting _no variation_, from which to use it.
+Nor did I hesitate to believe that the phrases, 'forty-one degrees and
+thirteen minutes,' and 'northeast and by north,' were intended as
+directions for the levelling of the glass.  Greatly excited by these
+discoveries, I hurried home, procured a telescope, and returned to the
+rock.
+
+"I let myself down to the ledge, and found that it was impossible to
+retain a seat upon it except in one particular position.  This fact
+confirmed my preconceived idea.  I proceeded to use the glass.  Of
+course, the 'forty-one degrees and thirteen minutes' could allude to
+nothing but elevation above the visible horizon, since the horizontal
+direction was clearly indicated by the words, 'northeast and by north.'
+This latter direction I at once established by means of a
+pocket-compass; then, pointing the glass as nearly at an angle of
+forty-one degrees of elevation as I could do it by guess, I moved it
+cautiously up or down, until my attention was arrested by a circular
+rift or opening in the foliage of a large tree that overtopped its
+fellows in the distance.  In the centre of this rift I perceived a
+white spot, but could not, at first, distinguish what it was.
+Adjusting the focus of the telescope, I again looked, and now made it
+out to be a human skull.
+
+"Upon this discovery I was so sanguine as to consider the enigma
+solved; for the phrase 'main branch, seventh limb, east side,' could
+refer only to the position of the skull upon the tree, while 'shoot
+from the left eye of the death's-head' admitted, also, of but one
+interpretation, in regard to a search for buried treasure.  I perceived
+that the design was to drop a bullet from the left eye of the skull,
+and that a bee-line, or, in other words, a straight line, drawn from
+the nearest point of the trunk through the shot (or the spot where the
+bullet fell), and thence extended to a distance of fifty feet, would
+indicate a definite point--and beneath this point I thought it at least
+_possible_ that a deposit of value lay concealed."
+
+"All this," I said, "is exceedingly clear, and, although ingenious,
+still simple and explicit.  When you left the Bishop's Hotel, what
+then?"
+
+"Why, having carefully taken the bearings of the tree, I turned
+homeward.  The instant that I left 'the devil's-seat,' however, the
+circular rift vanished; nor could I get a glimpse of it afterward, turn
+as I would.  What seems to me the chief ingenuity in this whole
+business, is the fact (for repeated experiment has convinced me it _is_
+a fact) that the circular opening in question is visible from no other
+attainable point of view than that afforded by the narrow ledge upon
+the face of the rock.
+
+"In this expedition to the 'Bishop's Hotel' I had been attended by
+Jupiter, who had, no doubt, observed, for some weeks past, the
+abstraction of my demeanor, and took especial care not to leave me
+alone.  But, on the next day, getting up very early, I contrived to
+give him the slip, and went into the hills in search of the tree.
+After much toil I found it.  When I came home at night my valet
+proposed to give me a flogging.  With the rest of the adventure I
+believe you are as well acquainted as myself."
+
+"I suppose," said I, "you missed the spot, in the first attempt at
+digging, through Jupiter's stupidity in letting the bug fall through
+the right instead of through the left eye of the skull."
+
+"Precisely.  This mistake made a difference of about two inches and a
+half in the 'shot'--that is to say, in the position of the peg nearest
+the tree; and had the treasure been _beneath_ the 'shot,' the error
+would have been of little moment; but 'the shot,' together with the
+nearest point of the tree, were merely two points for the establishment
+of a line of direction; of course, the error, however trivial in the
+beginning, increased as we proceeded with the line, and by the time we
+had gone fifty feet threw us quite off the scent.  But for my
+deep-seated impressions that treasure was here somewhere actually
+buried, we might have had all our labor in vain."
+
+"But your grandiloquence, and your conduct in swinging the beetle--how
+excessively odd!  I was sure you were mad.  And why did you insist upon
+letting fall the bug, instead of a bullet, from the skull?"
+
+"Why, to be frank, I felt somewhat annoyed by your evident suspicions
+touching my sanity, and so resolved to punish you quietly, in my own
+way, by a little bit of sober mystification.  For this reason I swung
+the beetle, and for this reason I let it fall from the tree.  An
+observation of yours about its great weight suggested the latter idea."
+
+"Yes, I perceive; and now there is only one point which puzzles me.
+What are we to make of the skeletons found in the hole?"
+
+"That is a question I am no more able to answer than yourself.  There
+seems, however, only one plausible way of accounting for them--and yet
+it is dreadful to believe in such atrocity as my suggestion would
+imply.  It is clear that Kidd--if Kidd indeed secreted this treasure,
+which I doubt not--it is clear that he must have had assistance in the
+labor.  But this labor concluded, he may have thought it expedient to
+remove all participants in his secret.  Perhaps a couple of blows with
+a mattock were sufficient, while his coadjutors were busy in the pit;
+perhaps it required a dozen--who shall tell?"
+
+
+
+
+CORPORAL FLINT'S MURDER
+
+By J. FENIMORE COOPER
+
+
+Half an hour passed after the execution of the missionary before the
+chiefs commenced their proceedings with the corporal.  The delay was
+owing to a consultation, in which The Weasel had proposed despatching a
+party to the castle, to bring in the family, and thus make a common
+destruction of the remaining pale-faces known to be in that part of the
+Openings.  Peter did not dare to oppose this scheme, himself; but he so
+managed as to get Crowsfeather to do it, without bringing himself into
+the foreground.  The influence of the Pottawattamie prevailed, and it
+was decided to torture this one captive, and to secure his scalp,
+before they proceeded to work their will on the others.  Ungque, who
+had gained ground rapidly by his late success, was once more
+commissioned to state to the captive the intentions of his captors.
+
+"Brother," commenced The Weasel, placing himself directly in front of
+the corporal, "I am about to speak to you.  A wise warrior opens his
+ears, when he hears the voice of his enemy.  He may learn something it
+will be good for him to know.  It will be good for you to know what I
+am about to say.
+
+"Brother, you are a pale-face, and we are Injins.  You wish to get our
+hunting-grounds, and we wish to keep them.  To keep them, it has become
+necessary to take your scalp.  I hope you are ready to let us have it."
+
+The corporal had but an indifferent knowledge of the Indian language,
+but he comprehended all that was uttered on this occasion.  Interest
+quickened his faculties, and no part of what was said was lost.  The
+gentle, slow, deliberate manner in which The Weasel delivered himself,
+contributed to his means of understanding.  He was fortunately prepared
+for what he heard, and the announcement of his approaching fate did not
+disturb him to the degree of betraying weakness.  This last was a
+triumph in which the Indians delighted, though they ever showed the
+most profound respect for such of their victims as manifested a manly
+fortitude.  It was necessary to reply, which the corporal did in
+English, knowing that several present could interpret his words.  With
+a view to render this the more easy, he spoke in fragments of
+sentences, and with great deliberation.
+
+"Injins," returned the corporal, "you surrounded me, and I have been
+taken prisoner--had there been a platoon on us, you mightn't have made
+out quite so well.  It's no great victory for three hundred warriors to
+overcome a single man.  I count Parson Amen as worse than nothing, for
+he looked to neither rear nor flank.  If I could have half an hour's
+work upon you, with only half of our late company, I think we should
+lower your conceit.  But that is impossible, and so you may do just
+what you please with me.  I ask no favors."
+
+Although this answer was very imperfectly translated, it awakened a
+good deal of admiration.  A man who could look death so closely in the
+face, with so much steadiness, became a sort of hero in Indian eyes;
+and with the North American savage, fortitude is a virtue not inferior
+to courage.  Murmurs of approbation were heard, and Ungque was
+privately requested to urge the captive further, in order to see how
+far present appearances were likely to be maintained.
+
+"Brother, I have said that we are Injins," resumed The Weasel, with an
+air so humble, and a voice so meek, that a stranger might have supposed
+he was consoling, instead of endeavoring to intimidate, the prisoner.
+"It is true.  We are nothing but poor, ignorant Injins.  We can only
+torment our prisoners after Injin fashion.  If we were pale-faces, we
+might do better.  We did not torment the medicine-priest.  We were
+afraid he would laugh at our mistakes.  He knew a great deal.  We know
+but little.  We do as well as we know how.
+
+"Brother, when Injins do as well as they know how, a warrior should
+forget their mistakes.  We wish to torment you, in a way to prove that
+you are all over man.  We wish so to torment you that you will stand up
+under the pain in such a way that it will make our young men think your
+mother was not a squaw--that there is no woman in you.  We do this for
+our own honor, as well as for yours.  It will be an honor to us to have
+such a captive; it will be an honor to you to be such a captive.  We
+shall do as well as we know how.
+
+"Brother, it is most time to begin.  The tormenting will last a long
+time.  We must not let the medicine-priest get too great a start on the
+path to the happy hunting-grounds of your----"
+
+Here, a most unexpected interruption occurred, that effectually put a
+stop to the eloquence of Ungque.  In his desire to make an impression,
+the savage approached within reach of the captive's arm, while his own
+mind was intent on the words that he hoped would make the prisoner
+quail.  The corporal kept his eye on that of the speaker, charming him,
+as it were, into a riveted gaze, in return.  Watching his opportunity,
+he caught the tomahawk from the Weasel's belt, and by a single blow,
+felled him dead at his feet.  Not content with this, the old soldier
+now bounded forward, striking right and left, inflicting six or eight
+wounds on others, before he could be again arrested, disarmed, and
+bound.  While the last was doing, Peter withdrew, unobserved.
+
+Many were the "hughs" and other exclamations of admiration that
+succeeded this display of desperate manhood!  The body of The Weasel
+was removed, and interred, while the wounded withdrew to attend to
+their hurts; leaving the arena to the rest assembled there.  As for the
+corporal, he was pretty well blown, and, in addition to being now bound
+hand and foot, his recent exertions, which were terrific while they
+lasted, effectually incapacitated him from making any move, so long as
+he was thus exhausted and confined.
+
+A council was now held by the principal chiefs.  Ungque had few
+friends.  In this, he shared the fate of most demagogues, who are
+commonly despised even by those they lead and deceive.  No one
+regretted him much, and some were actually glad at his fate.  But the
+dignity of the conquerors must be vindicated.  It would never do to
+allow a pale-face to obtain so great an advantage, and not take a
+signal vengeance for his deeds.  After a long consultation, it was
+determined to subject the captive to the trial by saplings, and thus
+see if he could bear the torture without complaining.  As some of our
+readers may not understand what this fell mode of tormenting is, it may
+be necessary to explain.
+
+There is scarcely a method of inflicting pain, that comes within the
+compass of their means, that the North American Indians have not
+essayed on their enemies.  When the infernal ingenuity that is
+exercised on these occasions fails of its effect, the captives
+themselves have been heard to suggest other means of torturing that
+_they_ have known practised successfully by their own people.  There is
+often a strange strife between the tormentors and the tormented; the
+one to manifest skill in inflicting pain, and the other to manifest
+fortitude in enduring it.  As has just been said, quite as much renown
+is often acquired by the warrior, in setting all the devices of his
+conquerors at defiance, while subject to their hellish attempts, as in
+deeds of arms.  It might be more true to say that such _was_ the
+practice among the Indians, than to say, at the present time, that such
+_is_; for it is certain that civilization in its approaches, while it
+has in many particulars even degraded the red man, has had a silent
+effect in changing and mitigating many of his fiercer customs--this,
+perhaps, among the rest.  It is probable that the more distant tribes
+still resort to all these ancient usages; but it is both hoped and
+believed that those nearer to the whites do not.
+
+The "torture by saplings" is one of those modes of inflicting pain that
+would naturally suggest themselves to savages.  Young trees that do not
+stand far apart are trimmed of their branches, and brought nearer to
+each other by bending their bodies; the victim is then attached to both
+trunks, sometimes by his extended arms, at others by his legs, or by
+whatever part of the frame cruelty can suggest, when the saplings are
+released, and permitted to resume their upright positions.  Of course,
+the sufferer is lifted from the earth, and hangs suspended by his
+limbs, with a strain on them that soon produces the most intense
+anguish.  The celebrated punishment of the "knout" partakes a good deal
+of this same character of suffering.  Bough of the Oak now approached
+the corporal, to let him know how high an honor was in reserve for him.
+
+"Brother," said this ambitious orator, "you are a brave warrior.  You
+have done well.  Not only have you killed one of our chiefs, but you
+have wounded several of our young men.  No one but a brave could have
+done this.  You have forced us to bind you, lest you might kill some
+more.  It is not often that captives do this.  Your courage has caused
+us to consult _how_ we might best torture you, in a way most to
+manifest your manhood.  After talking together, the chiefs have decided
+that a man of your firmness ought to be hung between two young trees.
+We have found the trees, and have cut off their branches.  You can see
+them.  If they were a little larger their force would be greater, and
+they would give you more pain--would be more worthy of you; but these
+are the largest saplings we could find.  Had there been any larger, we
+would have let you have them.  We wish to do you honor, for you are a
+bold warrior, and worthy to be well tormented.
+
+"Brother, look at these saplings!  They are tall and straight.  When
+they are bent by many hands, they will come together.  Take away the
+hands, and they will become straight again.  Your arms must then keep
+them together.  We wish we had some pappooses here, that they might
+shoot arrows into your flesh.  That would help much to torment you.
+You cannot have this honor, for we have no pappooses.  We are afraid to
+let our young men shoot arrows into your flesh.  They are strong, and
+might kill you.  We wish you to die between the saplings, as is your
+right, being so great a brave.
+
+"Brother, we think much better of you since you killed The Weasel, and
+hurt our young men.  If all your warriors at Chicago had been as bold
+as you, Black-Bird would not have taken that fort.  You would have
+saved many scalps.  This encourages us.  It makes us think the Great
+Spirit means to help us, and that we shall kill all the pale-faces.
+When we get further into your settlements, we do not expect to meet
+many such braves as you.  They tell us we shall then find men who will
+run, and screech like women.  It will not be a pleasure to torment such
+men.  We had rather torment a bold warrior, like you, who makes us
+admire him for his manliness.  We love our squaws, but not in the
+war-path.  They are best in the lodges; here we want nothing but men.
+You are a man--a brave--we honor you.  We think, notwithstanding, we
+shall yet make you weak.  It will not be easy, yet we hope to do it.
+We shall try.  We may not think quite so well of you, if we do it; but
+we shall always call you a brave.  A man is not a stone.  We can all
+feel, and when we have done all that is in our power, no one can do
+more.  It is so with Injins; we think it must be so with pale-faces.
+We mean to try and see how it is."
+
+The corporal understood very little of this harangue, though he
+perfectly comprehended the preparations of the saplings, and Bough of
+the Oak's allusions to _them_.  He was in a cold sweat at the thought,
+for resolute as he was, he foresaw sufferings that human fortitude
+could hardly endure.  In this state of the case, and in the frame of
+mind he was in, he had recourse to an expedient of which he had often
+heard, and which he thought might now be practised to some advantage.
+It was to open upon the savages with abuse, and to exasperate them, by
+taunts and sarcasm, to such a degree as might induce some of the weaker
+members of the tribe to dispatch him on the spot.  As the corporal,
+with the perspective of the saplings before his eyes, manifested a good
+deal of ingenuity on this occasion, we shall record some of his efforts.
+
+"D'ye call yourselves chiefs and warriors?" he began, upon a pretty
+high key.  "I call ye squaws!  There is not a man among ye.  Dogs would
+be the best name.  You are poor Injins.  A long time ago, the
+pale-faces came here in two or three little canoes.  They were but a
+handful, and you were plentier than prairie wolves.  Your bark could be
+heard throughout the land.  Well, what did this handful of pale-faces?
+It drove your fathers before them, until they got all the best of the
+hunting-grounds.  Not an Injin of you all, now, ever get down on the
+shores of the great salt lake, unless to sell brooms and baskets, and
+then he goes sneaking like a wolf after a sheep.  You have forgotten
+how clams and oysters taste.  Your fathers had as many of them as they
+could eat; but not one of you ever tasted them.  The pale-faces eat
+them all.  If an Injun asked for one, they would throw the shell at his
+head, and call him a dog.
+
+"Do you think that my chiefs would hang one of you between two such
+miserable saplings as these?  No!  They would scorn to practice such
+pitiful torture.  They would bring the tops of two tall pines together,
+trees a hundred and fifty feet high, and put their prisoner on the
+topmost boughs, for the crows and ravens to pick his eyes out.  But you
+are miserable Injins!  You know nothing.  If you know'd any better,
+would you act such poor torment ag'in' a great brave?  I spit upon ye,
+and call you squaws.  The pale-faces have made women of ye.  They have
+taken out your hearts, and put pieces of dog's flesh in their places."
+
+Here the corporal, who delivered himself with an animation suited to
+his language, was obliged to pause, literally for want of breath.
+Singular as it may seem, this tirade excited great admiration among the
+savages.  It is true, that very few understood what was said; perhaps
+no one understood _all_, but the manner was thought to be admirable.
+When some of the language was interpreted, a deep but smothered
+resentment was felt; more especially at the taunts touching the manner
+in which the whites had overcome the red men.  Truth is hard to be
+borne, and the individual, or people, who will treat a thousand
+injurious lies with contempt, feel all their ire aroused at one
+reproach that has its foundation in fact.  Nevertheless, the anger that
+the corporal's words did, in truth, awaken, was successfully repressed,
+and he had the disappointment of seeing that his life was spared for
+the torture.
+
+"Brother," said Bough of the Oak, again placing himself before the
+captive, "you have a stout heart.  It is made of stone, and not of
+flesh.  If our hearts be of dog's meat, yours is of stone.  What you
+say is true.  The pale-faces _did_ come at first in two or three
+canoes, and there were but few of them.  We are ashamed, for it is
+true.  A few pale-faces drove toward the setting sun many Injins.  But
+we cannot be driven any further.  We mean to stop here, and begin to
+take all the scalps we can.  A great chief, who belongs to no one
+tribe, but belongs to all tribes, who speaks all tongues, has been sent
+by the Great Spirit to arouse us.  He has done it.  You know him.  He
+came from the head of the lake with you, and kept his eye on your
+scalp.  He has meant to take it from the first.  He waited only for an
+opportunity.  That opportunity has come, and we now mean to do as he
+has told us we ought to do.  This is right.  Squaws are in a hurry;
+warriors know how to wait.  We would kill you at once, and hang your
+scalp on our pole, but it would not be right.  We wish to do what is
+right.  If we _are_ poor Injins, and know but little, we know what is
+right.  It is right to torment so great a brave, and we mean to do it.
+It is only just to you to do so.  An old warrior who has seen so many
+enemies, and who has so big a heart, ought not to be knocked in the
+head like a pappoose or a squaw.  It is his right to be tormented.  We
+are getting ready, and shall soon begin.  If my brother can tell us a
+new way of tormenting, we are willing to try it.  Should we not make
+out as well as pale-faces, my brother will remember who we are.  We
+mean to do our best, and we hope to make his heart soft.  If we do
+this, great will be our honor.  Should we not do it, we cannot help it.
+We shall try."
+
+It was now the corporal's turn to put in a rebutter.  This he did
+without any failure in will or performance.  By this time he was so
+well warmed as to think or care very little about the saplings, and to
+overlook the pain they might occasion.
+
+"Dogs can do little but bark; 'specially Injin dogs," he said.  "Injins
+themselves are little better than their own dogs.  They can bark, but
+they don't know how to bite.  You have many great chiefs here.  Some
+are panthers, and some bears, and some buffaloes; but where are your
+weasels?  I have fit you now these twenty years, and never have I known
+ye to stand up to the baggonet.  It's not Injin natur' to do _that_."
+
+Here the corporal, without knowing it, made some such reproach to the
+aboriginal warriors of America as the English used to throw into the
+teeth of ourselves--that of not standing up to a weapon which neither
+party possessed.  It was matter of great triumph that the Americans
+would not stand the charge of the bayonet at the renowned fight on
+Breed's, for instance, when it is well known that not one man in five
+among the colonists had any such weapon at all to "stand up" with.  A
+different story was told at Guildford, and Stony Point, and Eutaw, and
+Bennington, and Bemis' Heights, and fifty other places that might be
+named, after the troops were furnished with bayonets.  _Then_ it was
+found that the Americans could use them as well as others, and so might
+it have proved with the red men, though their discipline, or mode of
+fighting, scarce admitted of such systematic charges.  All this,
+however, the corporal overlooked, much as if he were a regular
+historian who was writing to make out a case.
+
+"Harkee, brother, since you _will_ call me brother; though, Heaven be
+praised, not a drop of nigger or Injin blood runs in _my_ veins,"
+resumed the corporal.  "Harken, friend redskin, answer me one thing.
+Did you ever hear of such a man as Mad Anthony?  He was the tickler for
+your infernal tribes!  You pulled no saplings together for him.  He put
+you up with 'the long-knives and leather-stockings,' and you outrun his
+fleetest horses.  I was with him, and saw more naked backs than naked
+faces among your people, that day.  Your Great Bear got a rap on his
+nose that sent him to his village yelping like a cur."
+
+Again was the corporal compelled to stop to take breath.  The allusion
+to Wayne, and his defeat of the Indians, excited so much ire, that
+several hands grasped knives and tomahawks, and one arrow was actually
+drawn nearly to the head; but the frown of Bear's Meat prevented any
+outbreak, or actual violence.  It was deemed prudent, however, to put
+an end to this scene, lest the straightforward corporal, who laid it on
+heavily, and who had so much to say about Indian defeats, might
+actually succeed in touching some festering wound that would bring him
+to his death at once.  It was, accordingly, determined to proceed with
+the torture of the saplings without further delay.
+
+The corporal was removed accordingly, and placed between the two bended
+trees, which were kept together by withes around their tops.  An arm of
+the captive was bound tightly at the wrist to the top of each tree, so
+that his limbs were to act as the only tie between the saplings, as
+soon as the withes should be cut.  The Indians now worked in silence,
+and the matter was getting to be much too serious for the corporal to
+indulge in any more words.  The cold sweat returned, and many an
+anxious glance was cast by the veteran on the fell preparations.  Still
+he maintained appearances, and when all was ready, not a man there was
+aware of the agony of dread which prevailed in the breast of the
+victim.  It was not death that he feared as much as suffering.  A few
+minutes, the corporal well knew, would make the pain intolerable, while
+he saw no hope of putting a speedy end to his existence.  A man might
+live hours in such a situation.  Then it was that the teachings of
+childhood were revived in the bosom of this hardened man, and he
+remembered the Being that died for _him_, in common with the rest of
+the human race, on the tree.  The seeming similarity of his own
+execution struck his imagination, and brought a tardy but faint
+recollection of those lessons that had lost most of their efficacy in
+the wickedness and impiety of camps.  His soul struggled for relief in
+that direction, but the present scene was too absorbing to admit of its
+lifting itself so far above his humanity.
+
+"Warrior of the pale-faces," said Bough of the Oak, "we are going to
+cut the withe.  You will then be where a brave man will want all his
+courage.  If you are firm, we will do you honor; if you faint and
+screech, our young men will laugh at you.  This is the way with Injins.
+They honor braves; they point the finger at cowards."
+
+Here a sign was made by Bear's Meat, and a warrior raised the tomahawk
+that was to separate the fastenings.  His hand was in the very act of
+descending, when the crack of a rifle was heard, and a little smoke
+rose out of the thicket, near the spot where the bee-hunter and the
+corporal, himself, had remained so long hid, on the occasion of the
+council first held in that place.  The tomahawk fell, however, the
+withes were parted, and up flew the saplings, with a violence that
+threatened to tear the arms of the victim out of their sockets.
+
+The Indians listened, expecting the screeches and groans;--they gazed,
+hoping to witness the writhings of their captive.  But they were
+disappointed.  There hung the body, its arms distended, still holding
+the tops of the saplings bowed, but not a sign of life was seen.  A
+small line of blood trickled down the forehead, and above it was the
+nearly imperceptible hole made by the passage of a bullet.  The head
+itself had fallen forward, and a little on one shoulder.  The corporal
+had escaped the torments reserved for him, by this friendly blow.
+
+
+
+
+UNCLE JIM AND UNCLE BILLY
+
+By BRET HARTE
+
+From "Stories in Light and Shadow."  Copyright 1888 and 1889 by Bret
+Harte.
+
+
+They were partners.  The avuncular title was bestowed on them by Cedar
+Camp, possibly in recognition of a certain matured good humor, quite
+distinct from the spasmodic exuberant spirits of its other members, and
+possibly from what, to its youthful sense, seemed their advanced
+ages--which must have been at least forty!  They had also set habits
+even in their improvidence, lost incalculable and unpayable sums to
+each other over euchre regularly every evening, and inspected their
+sluice-boxes punctually every Saturday for repairs--which they never
+made.  They even got to resemble each other, after the fashion of old
+married couples, or, rather, as in matrimonial partnerships, were
+subject to the domination of the stronger character; although in their
+case it is to be feared that it was the feminine Uncle
+Billy--enthusiastic, imaginative, and loquacious--who swayed the
+masculine, steady-going, and practical Uncle Jim.  They had lived in
+the camp since its foundation in 1849; there seemed to be no reason why
+they should not remain there until its inevitable evolution into a
+mining-town.  The younger members might leave through restless ambition
+or a desire for change or novelty; they were subject to no such
+trifling mutation.  Yet Cedar Camp was surprised one day to hear that
+Uncle Billy was going away.
+
+The rain was softly falling on the bark thatch of the cabin with a
+muffled murmur, like a sound heard through sleep.  The southwest trades
+were warm even at that altitude, as the open door testified, although a
+fire of pine bark was flickering on the adobe hearth and striking out
+answering fires from the freshly scoured culinary utensils on the rude
+sideboard, which Uncle Jim had cleaned that morning with his usual
+serious persistency.  Their best clothes, which were interchangeable
+and worn alternately by each other on festal occasions, hung on the
+walls, which were covered with a coarse sailcloth canvas instead of
+lath-and-plaster, and were diversified by pictures from illustrated
+papers and stains from the exterior weather.  Two "bunks," like ships'
+berths,--an upper and lower one,--occupied the gable-end of this single
+apartment, and on beds of coarse sacking, filled with dry moss, were
+carefully rolled their respective blankets and pillows.  They were the
+only articles not used in common, and whose individuality was respected.
+
+Uncle Jim, who had been sitting before the fire, rose as the square
+bulk of his partner appeared at the doorway with an armful of wood for
+the evening stove.  By that sign he knew it was nine o'clock: for the
+last six years Uncle Billy had regularly brought in the wood at that
+hour, and Uncle Jim had as regularly closed the door after him, and set
+out their single table, containing a greasy pack of cards taken from
+its drawer, a bottle of whiskey, and two tin drinking-cups.  To this
+was added a ragged memorandum-book and a stick of pencil.  The two men
+drew their stools to the table.
+
+"Hol' on a minit," said Uncle Billy.
+
+His partner laid down the cards as Uncle Billy extracted from his
+pocket a pill-box, and, opening it, gravely took a pill.  This was
+clearly an innovation on their regular proceedings, for Uncle Billy was
+always in perfect health.
+
+"What's this for?" asked Uncle Jim half scornfully.
+
+"Agin ager."
+
+"You ain't got no ager," said Uncle Jim, with the assurance of intimate
+cognizance of his partner's physical condition.
+
+"But it's a pow'ful preventive!  Quinine!  Saw this box at Riley's
+store, and laid out a quarter on it.  We kin keep it here, comfortable,
+for evenings.  It's mighty soothin' arter a man's done a hard day's
+work on the river-bar.  Take one."
+
+Uncle Jim gravely took a pill and swallowed it, and handed the box back
+to his partner.
+
+"We'll leave it on the table, sociable like, in case any of the boys
+come in," said Uncle Billy, taking up the cards.  "Well.  How de we
+stand?"
+
+Uncle Jim consulted the memorandum-book.  "You were owin' me sixty-two
+thousand dollars on the last game, and the limit's seventy-five
+thousand!"
+
+"Je whillikins!" ejaculated Uncle Billy.  "Let me see."
+
+He examined the book, feebly attempted to challenge the additions, but
+with no effect on the total.  "We oughter hev made the limit a hundred
+thousand," he said seriously; "seventy-five thousand is only triflin'
+in a game like ours.  And you've set down my claim at Angel's?" he
+continued.
+
+"I allowed you ten thousand dollars for that," said Uncle Jim, with
+equal gravity, "and it's a fancy price too."
+
+The claim in question being an unprospected hillside ten miles distant,
+which Uncle Jim had never seen, and Uncle Billy had not visited for
+years, the statement was probably true; nevertheless, Uncle Billy
+retorted:--
+
+"Ye kin never tell how these things will pan out.  Why, only this
+mornin' I was taking a turn round Shot Up Hill, that ye know is just
+rotten with quartz and gold, and I couldn't help thinkin' how much it
+was like my ole claim at Angel's.  I must take a day off to go on there
+and strike a pick in it, if only for luck."
+
+Suddenly he paused and said, "Strange, ain't it, you should speak of it
+to-night?  Now I call that queer!"
+
+He laid down his cards and gazed mysteriously at his companion.  Uncle
+Jim knew perfectly that Uncle Billy had regularly once a week for many
+years declared his final determination to go over to Angel's and
+prospect his claim, yet nevertheless he half responded to his partner's
+suggestion of mystery, and a look of fatuous wonder crept into his
+eyes.  But he contented himself by saying cautiously, "You spoke of it
+first."
+
+"That's the more sing'lar," said Uncle Billy confidently.  "And I've
+been thinking about it, and kinder seeing myself thar all day.  It's
+mighty queer!"  He got up and began to rummage among some torn and
+coverless books in the corner.
+
+"Where's that 'Dream Book' gone to?"
+
+"The Carson boys borrowed it," replied Uncle Jim.
+
+"Anyhow, yours wasn't no dream--only a kind o' vision, and the book
+don't take no stock in visions."  Nevertheless, he watched his partner
+with some sympathy, and added, "That reminds me that I had a dream the
+other night of being in 'Frisco at a small hotel, with heaps o' money,
+and all the time being sort o' scared and bewildered over it."
+
+"No?" queried his partner eagerly yet reproachfully.  "You never let on
+anything about it to _me_!  It's mighty queer you havin' these strange
+feelin's, for I've had 'em myself.  And only to-night, comin' up from
+the spring, I saw two crows hopping in the trail, and I says, 'If I see
+another, it's luck, sure!'  And you'll think I'm lyin', but when I went
+to the wood-pile just now there was the _third_ one sittin' up on a log
+as plain as I see you.  Tell 'e what folks ken laugh--but that's just
+what Jim Filgee saw the night before he made the big strike!"
+
+They were both smiling, yet with an underlying credulity and
+seriousness as singularly pathetic as it seemed incongruous to their
+years and intelligence.  Small wonder, however, that in their
+occupation and environment--living daily in an atmosphere of hope,
+expectation, and chance, looking forward each morning to the blind
+stroke of a pick that might bring fortune--they should see signs in
+nature and hear mystic voices in the trackless woods that surrounded
+them.  Still less strange that they were peculiarly susceptible to the
+more recognized diversions of chance, and were gamblers on the turning
+of a card who trusted to the revelation of a shovelful of upturned
+earth.
+
+It was quite natural, therefore, that they should return from their
+abstract form of divination to the table and their cards.  But they
+were scarcely seated before they heard a crackling step in the brush
+outside, and the free latch of their door was lifted.  A younger member
+of the camp entered.  He uttered a peevish "Halloo!" which might have
+passed for a greeting, or might have been a slight protest at finding
+the door closed, drew the stool from which Uncle Jim had just risen
+before the fire, shook his wet clothes like a Newfoundland dog, and sat
+down.  Yet he was by no means churlish nor coarse-looking, and this act
+was rather one of easy-going, selfish, youthful familiarity than of
+rudeness.  The cabin of Uncles Billy and Jim was considered a public
+right or "common" of the camp.  Conferences between individual miners
+were appointed there.  "I'll meet you at Uncle Billy's" was a common
+tryst.  Added to this was a tacit claim upon the partners' arbitrative
+powers, or the equal right to request them to step outside if the
+interviews were of a private nature.  Yet there was never any objection
+on the part of the partners, and to-night there was not a shadow of
+resentment of this intrusion in the patient, good-humored, tolerant
+eyes of Uncles Jim and Billy as they gazed at their guest.  Perhaps
+there was a slight gleam of relief in Uncle Jim's when he found that
+the guest was unaccompanied by any one, and that it was not a tryst.
+It would have been unpleasant for the two partners to have stayed out
+in the rain while their guests were exchanging private confidences in
+their cabin.  While there might have been no limit to their good will,
+there might have been some to their capacity for exposure.
+
+Uncle Jim drew a huge log from beside the hearth and sat on the driest
+end of it, while their guest occupied the stool.  The young man,
+without turning away from his discontented, peevish brooding over the
+fire, vaguely reached backward for the whiskey-bottle and Uncle Billy's
+tin cup, to which he was assisted by the latter's hospitable hand.  But
+on setting down the cup his eye caught sight of the pill-box.
+
+"Wot's that?" he said, with gloomy scorn.  "Rat poison?"
+
+"Quinine pills--agin ager," said Uncle Jim.  "The newest thing out.
+Keeps out damp like Injin-rubber!  Take one to follow yer whiskey.  Me
+and Uncle Billy wouldn't think o' settin' down, quiet like, in the
+evening arter work, without 'em.  Take one--ye'r welcome!  We keep 'em
+out here for the boys."
+
+Accustomed as the partners were to adopt and wear each other's opinions
+before folks, as they did each other's clothing, Uncle Billy was,
+nevertheless, astonished and delighted at Uncle Jim's enthusiasm over
+_his_ pills.  The guest took one and swallowed it.
+
+"Mighty bitter!" he said, glancing at his hosts with the quick
+Californian suspicion of some practical joke.  But the honest faces of
+the partners reassured him.
+
+"That bitterness ye taste," said Uncle Jim quickly, "is whar the
+thing's gittin' in its work.  Sorter sickenin' the malaria--and kinder
+water-proofin' the insides all to onct and at the same lick!  Don't yer
+see?  Put another in yer vest pocket; you'll be cryin' for 'em like a
+child afore ye get home.  Thar!  Well, how's things agoin' on your
+claim, Dick?  Boomin', eh?"
+
+The guest raised his head and turned it sufficiently to fling his
+answer back over his shoulder at his hosts.  "I don't know what _you'd_
+call 'boomin','" he said gloomily; "I suppose you two men sitting here
+comfortably by the fire, without caring whether school keeps or not,
+would call two feet of backwater over one's claim 'boomin';' I reckon
+_you'd_ consider a hundred and fifty feet of sluicing carried away, and
+drifting to thunder down the South Fork, something in the way of
+advertising to your old camp!  I suppose _you'd_ think it was an
+inducement to investors!  I shouldn't wonder," he added still more
+gloomily, as a sudden dash of rain down the wide-throated chimney
+dropped in his tin cup--"and it would be just like you two chaps,
+sittin' there gormandizing over your quinine--if yer said this rain
+that's lasted three weeks was something to be proud of!"
+
+It was the cheerful and the satisfying custom of the rest of the camp,
+for no reason whatever, to hold Uncle Jim and Uncle Billy responsible
+for its present location, its vicissitudes, the weather, or any
+convulsion of nature; and it was equally the partners' habit, for no
+reason whatever, to accept these animadversions and apologize.
+
+"It's a rain that's soft and mellowin'," said Uncle Billy gently, "and
+supplin' to the sinews and muscles.  Did ye ever notice,
+Jim"--ostentatiously to his partner--"did ye ever notice that you get
+inter a kind o' sweaty lather workin' in it?  Sorter openin' to the
+pores!"
+
+"Fetches 'em every time," said Uncle Billy.  "Better nor fancy soap."
+
+Their guest laughed bitterly.  "Well, I'm going to leave it to you.  I
+reckon to cut the whole concern to-morrow, and 'lite' out for something
+new.  It can't be worse than this."
+
+The two partners looked grieved, albeit they were accustomed to these
+outbursts.  Everybody who thought of going away from Cedar Camp used it
+first as a threat to these patient men, after the fashion of runaway
+nephews, or made an exemplary scene of their going.
+
+"Better think twice afore ye go," said Uncle Billy.
+
+"I've seen worse weather afore ye came," said Uncle Jim slowly.  "Water
+all over the Bar; the mud so deep ye couldn't get to Angel's for a sack
+o' flour, and we had to grub on pine nuts and jackass-rabbits.  And
+yet--we stuck by the camp, and here we are!"
+
+The mild answer apparently goaded their guest to fury.  He rose from
+his seat, threw back his long dripping hair from his handsome but
+querulous face, and scattered a few drops on the partners.  "Yes,
+that's just it.  That's what gets me!  Here you stick, and here you
+are!  And here you'll stick and rust until you starve or drown!  Here
+you are,--two men who ought to be out in the world, playing your part
+as grown men,---stuck here like children 'playing house' in the woods;
+playing work in your wretched mud-pie ditches, and content.  Two men
+not so old that you mightn't be taking your part in the fun of the
+world, going to balls or theatres, or paying attention to girls, and
+yet old enough to have married and have your families around you,
+content to stay in this God-forsaken place; old bachelors, pigging
+together like poor-house paupers.  That's what gets me!  Say you like
+_it_?  Say you expect by hanging on to make a strike--and what does
+that amount to?  What are _your_ chances?  How many of us have made, or
+are making, more than grub wages?  Say you're willing to share and
+share alike as you do--have you got enough for two?  Aren't you
+actually living off each other?  Aren't you grinding each other down,
+choking each other's struggles, as you sink together deeper and deeper
+in the mud of this cussed camp?  And while you're doing this, aren't
+you, by your age and position here, holding out hopes to others that
+you know cannot be fulfilled?"
+
+Accustomed as they were to the half-querulous, half-humorous, but
+always extravagant, criticism of the others, there was something so new
+in this arraignment of themselves that the partners for a moment sat
+silent.  There was a slight flush on Uncle Billy's cheek, there was a
+slight paleness on Uncle Jim's.  He was the first to reply.  But he did
+so with a certain dignity which neither his partner nor their guest had
+ever seen on his face before.
+
+"As it's _our_ fire that's warmed ye up like this, Dick Bullen," he
+said, slowly rising, with his hand resting on Uncle Billy's shoulder,
+"and as it's _our_ whiskey that's loosened your tongue, I reckon we
+must put up with what ye'r' saying, just as we've managed to put up
+with our own way o' living, and not quo'll with ye under our own roof."
+
+The young fellow saw the change in Uncle Jim's face and quickly
+extended his hand, with an apologetic backward shake of his long hair.
+"Hang it all, old man," he said, with a laugh of mingled contrition and
+amusement, "you mustn't mind what I said just now.  I've been so
+worried thinking of things about _myself_ and, maybe, a little about
+you, that I quite forgot I hadn't a call to preach to anybody--least of
+all to you.  So we part friends, Uncle Jim, and you too, Uncle Billy,
+and you'll forget what I said.  In fact, I don't know why I spoke at
+all--only I was passing your claim just now, and wondering how much
+longer your old sluice-boxes would hold out, and where in thunder you'd
+get others when they caved in!  I reckon that sent me off.  That's all,
+old chap!"
+
+Uncle Billy's face broke into a beaming smile of relief, and it was his
+hand that first grasped his guest's; Uncle Jim quickly followed with as
+honest a pressure, but with eyes that did not seem to be looking at
+Bullen, though all trace of resentment had died out of them.  He walked
+to the door with him, again shook hands, but remained looking out in
+the darkness some time after Dick Bullen's tangled hair and broad
+shoulders had disappeared.
+
+Meantime, Uncle Billy had resumed his seat and was chuckling and
+reminiscent as he cleaned out his pipe.
+
+"Kinder reminds me of Jo Sharp, when he was cleaned out at poker by his
+own partners in his own cabin, comin' up here and bedevilin' us about
+it!  What was it you lint him?"
+
+But Uncle Jim did not reply; and Uncle Billy, taking up the cards,
+began to shuffle them, smiling vaguely, yet at the same time somewhat
+painfully.  "Arter all, Dick was mighty cut up about what he said, and
+I felt kinder sorry for him.  And, you know, I rather cotton to a man
+that speaks his mind.  Sorter clears him out, you know, of all the
+slumgullion that's in him.  It's just like washin' out a pan o'
+prospecting: you pour in the water, and keep slushing it round and
+round, and out comes first the mud and dirt, and then the gravel, and
+then the black sand, and then--it's all out, and there's a speck o'
+gold glistenin' at the bottom!"
+
+"Then you think there _was_ suthin' in what he said?" said Uncle Jim,
+facing about slowly.
+
+An odd tone in his voice made Uncle Billy look up.  "No," he said
+quickly, shying with the instinct of an easy pleasure-loving nature
+from a possible grave situation.  "No, I don't think he ever got the
+color!  But wot are ye moonin' about for?  Ain't ye goin' to play?
+It's mor' 'n half past nine now."
+
+Thus adjured, Uncle Jim moved up to the table and sat down, while Uncle
+Billy dealt the cards, turning up the Jack or right bower--but
+_without_ that exclamation of delight which always accompanied his good
+fortune, nor did Uncle Jim respond with the usual corresponding
+simulation of deep disgust.  Such a circumstance had not occurred
+before in the history of their partnership.  They both played in
+silence--a silence only interrupted by a larger splash of raindrops
+down the chimney.
+
+"We orter put a couple of stones on the chimney-top, edgewise, like
+Jack Curtis does.  It keeps out the rain without interferin' with the
+draft," said Uncle Billy musingly.
+
+"What's the use if"--
+
+"If what?" said Uncle Billy quietly.
+
+"If we don't make it broader," said Uncle Jim half wearily.
+
+They both stared at the chimney, but Uncle Jim's eye followed the wall
+around to the bunks.  There were many discolorations on the canvas, and
+a picture of the Goddess of Liberty from an illustrated paper had
+broken out in a kind of damp, measly eruption.  "I'll stick that funny
+handbill of the 'Washin' Soda' I got at the grocery store the other day
+right over the Liberty gal.  It's a mighty perty woman washin' with
+short sleeves," said Uncle Billy.  "That's the comfort of them picters,
+you kin always get somethin' new, and it adds thickness to the wall."
+
+Uncle Jim went back to the cards in silence.  After a moment he rose
+again, and hung his overcoat against the door.
+
+"Wind's comin' in," he said briefly.
+
+"Yes," said Uncle Billy cheerfully, "but it wouldn't seem nat'ral if
+there wasn't that crack in the door to let the sunlight in o' mornin's.
+Makes a kind o' sundial, you know.  When the streak o' light's in that
+corner, I says 'six o'clock!' when it's across the chimney I say
+'seven!' and so 'tis!"
+
+It certainly had grown chilly, and the wind was rising.  The candle
+guttered and flickered; the embers on the hearth brightened
+occasionally, as if trying to dispel the gathering shadows, but always
+ineffectually.  The game was frequently interrupted by the necessity of
+stirring the fire.  After an interval of gloom, in which each partner
+successively drew the candle to his side to examine his cards, Uncle
+Jim said:--
+
+"Say?"
+
+"Well!" responded Uncle Billy.
+
+"Are you sure you saw that third crow on the wood-pile?"
+
+"Sure as I see you now--and a darned sight plainer.  Why?"
+
+"Nothin', I was just thinkin'.  Look here!  How do we stand now?"
+
+Uncle Billy was still losing.  "Nevertheless," he said cheerfully, "I'm
+owin' you a matter of sixty thousand dollars."
+
+Uncle Jim examined the book abstractedly.  "Suppose," he said slowly,
+but without looking at his partner, "suppose, as it's gettin' late now,
+we play for my half share of the claim agin the limit--seventy
+thousand--to square up."
+
+"Your half share!" repeated Uncle Billy, with amused incredulity.
+
+"My half share of the claim,--of this yer house, you know,--one-half of
+all that Dick Bullen calls our rotten starvation property," reiterated
+Uncle Jim, with a half smile.
+
+Uncle Billy laughed.  It was a novel idea; it was, of course, "all in
+the air," like the rest of their game, yet even then he had an odd
+feeling that he would have liked Dick Bullen to have known it.  "Wade
+in, old pard," he said.  "I'm on it."
+
+Uncle Jim lit another candle to reinforce the fading light, and the
+deal fell to Uncle Billy.  He turned up Jack of clubs.  He also turned
+a little redder as he took up his cards, looked at them, and glanced
+hastily at his partner.  "It's no use playing," he said.  "Look here!"
+He laid down his cards on the table.  They were the ace, king and queen
+of clubs, and Jack of spades,--or left bower,--which, with the
+turned-up Jack of clubs,--or right bower,--comprised all the winning
+cards!
+
+"By jingo!  If we'd been playin' fourhanded, say you an' me agin some
+other ducks, we'd have made 'four' in that deal, and h'isted some
+money--eh?" and his eyes sparkled.  Uncle Jim, also, had a slight
+tremulous light in his own.
+
+"Oh no!  I didn't see no three crows this afternoon," added Uncle Billy
+gleefully, as his partner, in turn, began to shuffle the cards with
+laborious and conscientious exactitude.  Then dealing, he turned up a
+heart for trumps.  Uncle Billy took up his cards one by one, but when
+he had finished his face had become as pale as it had been red before.
+"What's the matter?" said Uncle Jim quickly, his own face growing white.
+
+Uncle Billy slowly and with breathless awe laid down his cards, face up
+on the table.  It was exactly the same sequence _in hearts_, with the
+knave of diamonds added.  He could again take every trick.
+
+They stared at each other with vacant faces and a half-drawn smile of
+fear.  They could hear the wind moaning in the trees beyond; there was
+a sudden rattling at the door.  Uncle Billy started to his feet, but
+Uncle Jim caught his arm.  "_Don't leave the cards_!  It's only the
+wind; sit down," he said in a low awe-hushed voice, "it's your deal;
+you were two before, and two now, that makes you four; you've only one
+point to make to win the game.  Go on."
+
+They both poured out a cup of whiskey, smiling vaguely, yet with a
+certain terror in their eyes.  Their hands were cold; the cards slipped
+from Uncle Billy's benumbed fingers; when he had shuffled them he
+passed them to his partner to shuffle them also, but did not speak.
+When Uncle Jim had shuffled them methodically he handed them back
+fatefully to his partner.  Uncle Billy dealt them with a trembling
+hand.  He turned up a club.  "If you are sure of these tricks you know
+you've won," said Uncle Jim in a voice that was scarcely audible.
+Uncle Billy did not reply, but tremulously laid down the ace and right
+and left bowers.
+
+He had won!
+
+A feeling of relief came over each, and they laughed hysterically and
+discordantly.  Ridiculous and childish as their contest might have
+seemed to a looker-on, to each the tension had been as great as that of
+the greatest gambler, without the gambler's trained restraint,
+coolness, and composure.  Uncle Billy nervously took up the cards again.
+
+"Don't," said Uncle Jim gravely; "it's no use--the luck's gone now."
+
+"Just one more deal," pleaded his partner.
+
+Uncle Jim looked at the fire, Uncle Billy hastily dealt, and threw the
+two hands face up on the table.  They were the ordinary average cards.
+He dealt again, with the same result.  "I told you so," said Uncle Jim,
+without looking up.
+
+It certainly seemed a tame performance after their wonderful hands, and
+after another trial Uncle Billy threw the cards aside and drew his
+stool before the fire.  "Mighty queer, warn't it?" he said, with
+reminiscent awe.  "Three times running.  Do you know, I felt a kind o'
+creepy feelin' down my back all the time.  Criky! what luck!  None of
+the boys would believe it if we told 'em--least of all that Dick
+Bullen, who don't believe in luck, anyway.  Wonder what he'd have said!
+and, Lord! how he'd have looked!  Wall! what are you starin' so for?"
+
+Uncle Jim had faced around, and was gazing at Uncle Billy's
+good-humored, simple face.  "Nothin'!" he said briefly, and his eyes
+again sought the fire.
+
+"Then don't look as if you was seein' suthin'--you give me the creeps,"
+returned Uncle Billy a little petulantly.  "Let's turn in, afore the
+fire goes out!"
+
+The fateful cards were put back into the drawer, the table shoved
+against the wall.  The operation of undressing was quickly got over,
+the clothes they wore being put on top of their blankets.  Uncle Billy
+yawned, "I wonder what kind of a dream I'll have to-night--it oughter
+be suthin' to explain that luck."  This was his "good-night" to his
+partner.  In a few moments he was sound asleep.
+
+Not so Uncle Jim.  He heard the wind gradually go down, and in the
+oppressive silence that followed could detect the deep breathing of his
+companion and the far-off yelp of a coyote.  His eyesight becoming
+accustomed to the semi-darkness, broken only by the scintillation of
+the dying embers of their fire, he could take in every detail of their
+sordid cabin and the rude environment in which they had lived so long.
+The dismal patches on the bark roof, the wretched makeshifts of each
+day, the dreary prolongation of discomfort, were all plain to him now,
+without the sanguine hope that had made them bearable.  And when he
+shut his eyes upon them, it was only to travel in fancy down the steep
+mountain side that he had trodden so often to the dreary claim on the
+overflowed river, to the heaps of "tailings" that encumbered it, like
+empty shells of the hollow, profitless days spent there, which they
+were always waiting for the stroke of good fortune to clear away.  He
+saw again the rotten "sluicing," through whose hopeless rifts and holes
+even their scant daily earnings had become scantier.  At last he arose,
+and with infinite gentleness let himself down from his berth without
+disturbing his sleeping partner, and wrapping himself in his blanket,
+went to the door, which he noiselessly opened.  From the position of a
+few stars that were glittering in the northern sky he knew that it was
+yet scarcely midnight; there were still long, restless hours before the
+day!  In the feverish state into which he had gradually worked himself
+it seemed to him impossible to wait the coming of the dawn.
+
+But he was mistaken.  For even as he stood there all nature seemed to
+invade his humble cabin with its free and fragrant breath, and invest
+him with its great companionship.  He felt again, in that breath, that
+strange sense of freedom, that mystic touch of partnership with the
+birds and beasts, the shrubs and trees, in this greater home before
+him.  It was this vague communion that had kept him there, that still
+held these world-sick, weary workers in their rude cabins on the slopes
+around him; and he felt upon his brow that balm that had nightly lulled
+him and them to sleep and forgetfulness.  He closed the door, turned
+away, crept as noiselessly as before into his bunk again, and presently
+fell into a profound slumber.
+
+But when Uncle Billy awoke the next morning he saw it was late; for the
+sun, piercing the crack of the closed door, was sending a pencil of
+light across the cold hearth, like a match to rekindle its dead embers.
+His first thought was of his strange luck the night before, and of
+disappointment that he had not had the dream of divination that he had
+looked for.  He sprang to the floor, but as he stood upright his glance
+fell on Uncle Jim's bunk.  It was empty.  Not only that, but his
+_blankets_--Uncle Jim's own particular blankets--_were gone_!
+
+A sudden revelation of his partner's manner the night before struck him
+now with the cruelty of a blow; a sudden intelligence, perhaps the very
+divination he had sought, flashed upon him like lightning!  He glanced
+wildly around the cabin.  The table was drawn out from the wall a
+little ostentatiously, as if to catch his eye.  On it was lying the
+stained chamois-skin purse in which they had kept the few grains of
+gold remaining from their last week's "clean up."  The grains had been
+carefully divided, and half had been taken!  But near it lay the little
+memorandum-book, open, with the stick of pencil lying across it.  A
+deep line was drawn across the page on which was recorded their
+imaginary extravagant gains and losses, even to the entry of Uncle
+Jim's half share of the claim which he had risked and lost!  Underneath
+were hurriedly scrawled the words:--
+
+"Settled by _your_ luck, last night, old pard.--James Foster."
+
+
+It was nearly a month before Cedar Camp was convinced that Uncle Billy
+and Uncle Jim had dissolved partnership.  Pride had prevented Uncle
+Billy from revealing his suspicions of the truth, or of relating the
+events that preceded Uncle Jim's clandestine flight, and Dick Bullen
+had gone to Sacramento by stage-coach the same morning.  He briefly
+gave out that his partner had been called to San Francisco on important
+business of their own, that indeed might necessitate his own removal
+there later.  In this he was singularly assisted by a letter from the
+absent Jim, dated at San Francisco, begging him not to be anxious about
+his success, as he had hopes of presently entering a profitable
+business, but with no further allusions to his precipitate departure,
+nor any suggestion of a reason for it.  For two or three days Uncle
+Billy was staggered and bewildered; in his profound simplicity he
+wondered if his extraordinary good fortune that night had made him deaf
+to some explanation of his partner's, or, more terrible, if he had
+shown some "low" and incredible intimation of taking his partner's
+extravagant bet as real and binding.  In this distress he wrote to
+Uncle Jim an appealing and apologetic letter, albeit somewhat
+incoherent and inaccurate, and bristling with misspelling, camp slang,
+and old partnership jibes.  But to this elaborate epistle he received
+only Uncle Jim's repeated assurances of his own bright prospects, and
+his hopes that his old partner would be more fortunate, single-handed,
+on the old claim.  For a whole week or two Uncle Billy sulked, but his
+invincible optimism and good humor got the better of him, and he
+thought only of his old partner's good fortune.  He wrote him
+regularly, but always to one address--a box at the San Francisco
+post-office, which to the simple-minded Uncle Billy suggested a certain
+official importance.  To these letters Uncle Jim responded regularly
+but briefly.
+
+From a certain intuitive pride in his partner and his affection, Uncle
+Billy did not show these letters openly to the camp, although he spoke
+freely of his former partner's promising future, and even read them
+short extracts.  It is needless to say that the camp did not accept
+Uncle Billy's story with unsuspecting confidence.  On the contrary, a
+hundred surmises, humorous or serious, but always extravagant, were
+afloat in Cedar Camp.  The partners had quarreled over their
+clothes--Uncle Jim, who was taller than Uncle Billy, had refused to
+wear his partner's trousers.  They had quarreled over cards--Uncle Jim
+had discovered that Uncle Billy was in possession of a "cold deck," or
+marked pack.  They had quarreled over Uncle Billy's carelessness in
+grinding up half a box of "bilious pills" in the morning's coffee.  A
+gloomily imaginative mule-driver had darkly suggested that, as no one
+had really seen Uncle Jim leave the camp, he was still there, and his
+bones would yet be found in one of the ditches; while a still more
+credulous miner averred that what he had thought was the cry of a
+screech-owl the night previous to Uncle Jim's disappearance, might have
+been the agonized utterance of that murdered man.  It was highly
+characteristic of that camp--and, indeed, of others in California--that
+nobody, not even the ingenious theorists themselves, believed their
+story, and that no one took the slightest pains to verify or disprove
+it.  Happily, Uncle Billy never knew it, and moved all unconsciously in
+this atmosphere of burlesque suspicion.  And then a singular change
+took place in the attitude of the camp towards him and the disrupted
+partnership.  Hitherto, for no reason whatever, all had agreed to put
+the blame upon Billy--possibly because he was present to receive it.
+As days passed that slight reticence and dejection in his manner, which
+they had at first attributed to remorse and a guilty conscience, now
+began to tell as absurdly in his favor.  Here was poor Uncle Billy
+toiling through the ditches, while his selfish partner was lolling in
+the lap of luxury in San Francisco!  Uncle Billy's glowing accounts of
+Uncle Jim's success only contributed to the sympathy now fully given in
+his behalf and their execration of the absconding partner.  It was
+proposed at Bigg's store that a letter expressing the indignation of
+the camp over his heartless conduct to his late partner, William Fall,
+should be forwarded to him.  Condolences were offered to Uncle Billy,
+and uncouth attempts were made to cheer his loneliness.  A procession
+of half a dozen men twice a week to his cabin, carrying their own
+whiskey and winding up with a "stag dance" before the premises, was
+sufficient to lighten his eclipsed gayety and remind him of a happier
+past.  "Surprise" working parties visited his claim with spasmodic
+essays towards helping him, and great good humor and hilarity
+prevailed.  It was not an unusual thing for an honest miner to arise
+from an idle gathering in some cabin and excuse himself with the remark
+that he "reckoned he'd put in an hour's work in Uncle Billy's
+tailings!"  And yet, as before, it was very improbable if any of these
+reckless benefactors _really_ believed in their own earnestness or in
+the gravity of the situation.  Indeed, a kind of hopeful cynicism ran
+through their performances.  "Like as not, Uncle Billy is still in
+'cahoots' (_i.e._, shares) with his old pard, and is just laughin' at
+us as he's sendin' him accounts of our tomfoolin'."
+
+And so the winter passed and the rains, and the days of cloudless skies
+and chill starlit nights began.  There were still freshets from the
+snow reservoirs piled high in the Sierran passes, and the Bar was
+flooded, but that passed too, and only the sunshine remained.
+Monotonous as the seasons were, there was a faint movement in the camp
+with the stirring of the sap in the pines and cedars.  And then, one
+day, there was a strange excitement on the Bar.  Men were seen running
+hither and thither, but mainly gathering in a crowd on Uncle Billy's
+claim, that still retained the old partners' names in "The Fall and
+Foster."  To add to the excitement; there was the quickly repeated
+report of a revolver, to all appearance aimlessly exploded in the air
+by some one on the outskirts of the assemblage.  As the crowd opened,
+Uncle Billy appeared, pale, hysterical, breathless, and staggering a
+little under the back-slapping and hand-shaking of the whole camp.  For
+Uncle Billy had "struck it rich"--had just discovered a "pocket,"
+roughly estimated to be worth fifteen thousand dollars!
+
+Although in that supreme moment he missed the face of his old partner,
+he could not help seeing the unaffected delight and happiness shining
+in the eyes of all who surrounded him.  It was characteristic of that
+sanguine but uncertain life that success and good fortune brought no
+jealousy nor envy to the unfortunate, but was rather a promise and
+prophecy of the fulfillment of their own hopes.  The gold was
+there--Nature but yielded up her secret.  There was no prescribed limit
+to her bounty.  So strong was this conviction that a long-suffering but
+still hopeful miner, in the enthusiasm of the moment, stooped down and
+patted a large boulder with the apostrophic "Good old gal!"
+
+Then followed a night of jubilee, a next morning of hurried
+consultation with a mining expert and speculator lured to the camp by
+the good tidings; and then the very next night--to the utter
+astonishment of Cedar Camp--Uncle Billy, with a draft for twenty
+thousand dollars in his pocket, started for San Francisco, and took
+leave of his claim and the camp forever!
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+When Uncle Billy landed at the wharves of San Francisco he was a little
+bewildered.  The Golden Gate beyond was obliterated by the incoming
+sea-fog, which had also roofed in the whole city, and lights already
+glittered along the gray streets that climbed the grayer sand-hills.
+As a Western man, brought up by inland rivers, he was fascinated and
+thrilled by the tall-masted sea-going ships, and he felt a strange
+sense of the remoter mysterious ocean, which he had never seen.  But he
+was impressed and startled by smartly dressed men and women, the
+passing of carriages, and a sudden conviction that he was strange and
+foreign to what he saw.  It had been his cherished intention to call
+upon his old partner in his working clothes, and then clap down on the
+table before him a draft for ten thousand dollars as _his_ share of
+their old claim.  But in the face of these brilliant strangers a sudden
+and unexpected timidity came upon him.  He had heard of a cheap popular
+hotel, much frequented by the returning gold-miner, who entered its
+hospitable doors--which held an easy access to shops--and emerged in a
+few hours a gorgeous butterfly of fashion, leaving his old chrysalis
+behind him.  Thence he inquired his way; hence he afterwards issued in
+garments glaringly new and ill fitting.  But he had not sacrificed his
+beard, and there was still something fine and original in his handsome
+weak face that overcame the cheap convention of his clothes.  Making
+his way to the post-office, he was again discomfited by the great size
+of the building, and bewildered by the array of little square
+letter-boxes behind glass which occupied one whole wall, and an equal
+number of opaque and locked wooden ones legibly numbered.  His heart
+leaped; he remembered the number, and before him was a window with a
+clerk behind it.  Uncle Billy leaned forward.
+
+"Kin you tell me if the man that box 690 b'longs to is in?"
+
+The clerk stared, made him repeat the question, and then turned away.
+But he returned almost instantly, with two or three grinning heads
+besides his own, apparently set behind his shoulders.  Uncle Billy was
+again asked to repeat his question.  He did so.
+
+"Why don't you go and see if 690 is in the box?" said the first clerk,
+turning with affected asperity to one of the others.
+
+The clerk went away, returned, and said with singular gravity, "He was
+there a moment ago, but he's gone out to stretch his legs.  It's rather
+crampin' at first; and he can't stand it more than ten hours at a time,
+you know."
+
+But simplicity has its limits.  Uncle Billy had already guessed his
+real error in believing his partner was officially connected with the
+building; his cheek had flushed and then paled again.  The pupils of
+his blue eyes had contracted into suggestive black points.  "Ef you'll
+let me in at that winder, young fellers," he said, with equal gravity,
+"I'll show yer how I kin make _you_ small enough to go in a box without
+crampin'!  But I only wanted to know where Jim Foster _lived_."
+
+At which the first clerk became perfunctory again, but civil.  "A
+letter left in his box would get you that information," he said, "and
+here's paper and pencil to write it now."
+
+Uncle Billy took the paper and began to write, "Just got here.  Come
+and see me at"--  He paused.  A brilliant idea had struck him; he could
+impress both his old partner and the upstarts at the window; he would
+put in the name of the latest "swell" hotel in San Francisco, said to
+be a fairy dream of opulence.  He added "The Oriental," and without
+folding the paper shoved it in the window.
+
+"Don't you want an envelope?" asked the clerk.
+
+"Put a stamp on the corner of it," responded Uncle Billy, laying down a
+coin, "and she'll go through."  The clerk smiled, but affixed the
+stamp, and Uncle Billy turned away.
+
+But it was a short-lived triumph.  The disappointment at finding Uncle
+Jim's address conveyed no idea of his habitation seemed to remove him
+farther away, and lose his identity in the great city.  Besides, he
+must now make good his own address, and seek rooms at the Oriental.  He
+went thither.  The furniture and decorations, even in these early days
+of hotel-building in San Francisco, were extravagant and overstrained,
+and Uncle Billy felt lost and lonely in his strange surroundings.  But
+he took a handsome suite of rooms, paid for them in advance on the
+spot, and then, half frightened, walked out of them to ramble vaguely
+through the city in the feverish hope of meeting his old partner.  At
+night his inquietude increased; he could not face the long row of
+tables in the pillared dining-room, filled with smartly dressed men and
+women; he evaded his bedroom, with its brocaded satin chairs and its
+gilt bedstead, and fled to his modest lodgings at the Good Cheer House,
+and appeased his hunger at its cheap restaurant, in the company of
+retired miners and freshly arrived Eastern emigrants.  Two or three
+days passed thus in this quaint double existence.  Three or four times
+a day he would enter the gorgeous Oriental with affected ease and
+carelessness, demand his key from the hotel-clerk, ask for the letter
+that did not come, go to his room, gaze vaguely from his window on the
+passing crowd below for the partner he could not find, and then return
+to the Good Cheer House for rest and sustenance.  On the fourth day he
+received a short note from Uncle Jim; it was couched in his usual
+sanguine but brief and business-like style.  He was very sorry, but
+important and profitable business took him out of town, but he trusted
+to return soon and welcome his old partner.  He was also, for the first
+time, jocose, and hoped that Uncle Billy would not "see all the sights"
+before he, Uncle Jim, returned.  Disappointing as this procrastination
+was to Uncle Billy, a gleam of hope irradiated it: the letter had
+bridged over that gulf which seemed to yawn between them at the
+post-office.  His old partner had accepted his visit to San Francisco
+without question, and had alluded to a renewal of their old intimacy.
+For Uncle Billy, with all his trustful simplicity, had been tortured by
+two harrowing doubts: one, whether Uncle Jim in his new-fledged
+smartness as a "city" man--such as he saw in the streets--would care
+for his rough companionship; the other, whether he, Uncle Billy, ought
+not to tell him at once of his changed fortune.  But, like all weak,
+unreasoning men, he clung desperately to a detail--he could not forego
+his old idea of astounding Uncle Jim by giving him his share of the
+"strike" as his first intimation of it, and he doubted, with more
+reason perhaps, if Jim would see him after he had heard of his good
+fortune.  For Uncle Billy had still a frightened recollection of Uncle
+Jim's sudden stroke for independence, and that rigid punctiliousness
+which had made him doggedly accept the responsibility of his
+extravagant stake at euchre.
+
+With a view of educating himself for Uncle Jim's company, he "saw the
+sights" of San Francisco--as an over-grown and somewhat stupid child
+might have seen them--with great curiosity, but little contamination or
+corruption.  But I think he was chiefly pleased with watching the
+arrival of the Sacramento and Stockton steamers at the wharves, in the
+hope of discovering his old partner among the passengers on the
+gang-plank.  Here, with his old superstitious tendency and gambler's
+instinct, he would augur great success in his search that day if any
+one of the passengers bore the least resemblance to Uncle Jim, if a man
+or woman stepped off first, or if he met a single person's questioning
+eye.  Indeed, this got to be the real occupation of the day, which he
+would on no account have omitted, and to a certain extent revived each
+day in his mind the morning's work of their old partnership.  He would
+say to himself, "It's time to go and look up Jim," and put off what he
+was pleased to think were his pleasures until this act of duty was
+accomplished.
+
+In this singleness of purpose he made very few and no entangling
+acquaintances, nor did he impart to any one the secret of his fortune,
+loyally reserving it for his partner's first knowledge.  To a man of
+his natural frankness and simplicity this was a great trial, and was,
+perhaps, a crucial test of his devotion.  When he gave up his rooms at
+the Oriental--as not necessary after his partner's absence--he sent a
+letter, with his humble address, to the mysterious lock-box of his
+partner without fear or false shame.  He would explain it all when they
+met.  But he sometimes treated unlucky and returning miners to a dinner
+and a visit to the gallery of some theatre.  Yet while he had an active
+sympathy with and understanding of the humblest, Uncle Billy, who for
+many years had done his own and his partner's washing, scrubbing,
+mending, and cooking, and saw no degradation in it, was somewhat
+inconsistently irritated by menial functions in men, and although he
+gave extravagantly to waiters, and threw a dollar to the
+crossing-sweeper, there was always a certain shy avoidance of them in
+his manner.  Coming from the theatre one night Uncle Billy was,
+however, seriously concerned by one of these crossing-sweepers turning
+hastily before them and being knocked down by a passing carriage.  The
+man rose and limped hurriedly away; but Uncle Billy was amazed and
+still more irritated to hear from his companion that this kind of
+menial occupation was often profitable, and that at some of the
+principal crossings the sweepers were already rich men.
+
+But a few days later brought a more notable event to Uncle Billy.  One
+afternoon in Montgomery Street he recognized in one of its smartly
+dressed frequenters a man who had a few years before been a member of
+Cedar Camp.  Uncle Billy's childish delight at this meeting, which
+seemed to bridge over his old partner's absence, was, however, only
+half responded to by the ex-miner, and then somewhat satirically.  In
+the fulness of his emotion, Uncle Billy confided to him that he was
+seeking his old partner, Jim Foster, and, reticent of his own good
+fortune, spoke glowingly of his partner's brilliant expectations, but
+deplored his inability to find him.  And just now he was away on
+important business.  "I reckon he's got back," said the man dryly.  "I
+didn't know he had a lock-box at the post-office, but I can give you
+his other address.  He lives at the Presidio, at Washerwoman's Bay."
+He stopped and looked with a satirical smile at Uncle Billy.  But the
+latter, familiar with Californian mining-camp nomenclature, saw nothing
+strange in it, and merely repeated his companion's words.
+
+"You'll find him there!  Good-by!  So long!  Sorry I'm in a hurry,"
+said the ex-miner, and hurried away.
+
+Uncle Billy was too delighted with the prospect of a speedy meeting
+with Uncle Jim to resent his former associate's supercilious haste, or
+even to wonder why Uncle Jim had not informed him that he had returned.
+It was not the first time that he had felt how wide was the gulf
+between himself and these others, and the thought drew him closer to
+his old partner, as well as his old idea, as it was now possible to
+surprise him with the draft.  But as he was going to surprise him in
+his own boarding-house--probably a handsome one--Uncle Billy reflected
+that he would do so in a certain style.
+
+He accordingly went to a livery stable and ordered a landau and pair,
+with a negro coachman.  Seated in it, in his best and most ill-fitting
+clothes, he asked the coachman to take him to the Presidio, and leaned
+back in the cushions as they drove through the streets with such an
+expression of beaming gratification on his good-humored face that the
+passers-by smiled at the equipage and its extravagant occupant.  To
+them it seemed the not unusual sight of the successful miner "on a
+spree."  To the unsophisticated Uncle Billy their smiling seemed only a
+natural and kindly recognition of his happiness, and he nodded and
+smiled back to them with unsuspecting candor and innocent playfulness.
+"These yer 'Frisco fellers ain't _all_ slouches, you bet," he added to
+himself half aloud, at the back of the grinning coachman.
+
+Their way led through well-built streets to the outskirts, or rather to
+that portion of the city which seemed to have been overwhelmed by
+shifting sand-dunes, from which half-submerged fences and even low
+houses barely marked the foe of highway.  The resistless trade-winds
+which had marked this change blew keenly in his face and slightly
+chilled his ardor.  At a turn in the road the sea came im sight, and
+sloping towards it the great Cemetery of Lone Mountain, with white
+shafts and marbles that glittered in the sunlight like the sails of
+ships waiting to be launched down that slope into the Eternal Ocean.
+Uncle Billy shuddered.  What if it had been his fate to seek Uncle Jim
+there!
+
+"Dar's yar Presidio!" said the negro coachman a few moments later,
+pointing with his whip, "and dar's yar Wash'woman's Bay!"
+
+Uncle Billy stared.  A huge quadrangular fort of stone with a flag
+flying above its battlements stood at a little distance, pressed
+against the rocks, as if beating back the encroaching surges; between
+him and the fort but farther inland was a lagoon with a number of
+dilapidated, rudely patched cabins or cottages, like stranded driftwood
+around its shore.  But there was no mansion, no block of houses, no
+street, not another habitation or dwelling to be seen!
+
+Uncle Billy's first shock of astonishment was succeeded by a feeling of
+relief.  He had secretly dreaded a meeting with his old partner in the
+"haunts of fashion"; whatever was the cause that made Uncle Jim seek
+this obscure retirement affected him but slightly; he even was thrilled
+with a vague memory of the old shiftless camp they had both abandoned.
+A certain instinct---he knew not why, or less still that it might be
+one of delicacy--made him alight before they reached the first house.
+Bidding the carriage wait; Uncle Billy entered, and was informed by a
+blowzy Irish laundress at a tub that Jim Foster, or "Arkansaw Jim,"
+lived at the fourth shanty "beyant."  He was at home, for "he'd
+shprained his fut."  Uncle Billy hurried on, stopped before the door of
+a shanty scarcely less rude than their old cabin, and half timidly
+pushed it open.  A growling voice from within, a figure that rose
+hurriedly, leaning on a stick, with an attempt to fly, but in the same
+moment sank back in a chair with an hysterical laugh--and Uncle Billy
+stood in the presence of his old partner!  But as Uncle Billy darted
+forward, Uncle Jim rose again, and this time with outstretched hands.
+Uncle Billy caught them, and in one supreme pressure seemed to pour out
+and transfuse his whole simple soul into his partner's.  There they
+swayed each other backwards and forwards and sideways by their still
+clasped hands, until Uncle Billy, with a glance at Uncle Jim's bandaged
+ankle, shoved him by sheer force down into his chair.
+
+Uncle Jim was first to speak.  "Caught, b'gosh!  I mighter known you'd
+be as big a fool as me!  Look you, Billy Fall, do you know what you've
+done?  You've druv me out er the streets whar I was makin' an honest
+livin', by day, on three crossin's!  Yes," he laughed forgivingly, "you
+druv me out er it, by day, jest because I reckoned that some time I
+might run into your darned fool face,"--another laugh and a grasp of
+the hand,--"and then, b'gosh! not content with ruinin' my business _by
+day_, when I took to it at night; _you_ took to goin' out at nights
+too, and so put a stopper on me there!  Shall I tell you what else you
+did?  Well, by the holy poker!  I owe this sprained foot to your darned
+foolishness and my own, for it was getting away from _you_ one night
+after the theatre that I got run into and run over!
+
+"Ye see," he went on, unconscious of Uncle Billy's paling face, and
+with a _naïvete_, though perhaps not a delicacy, equal to Uncle Billy's
+own, "I had to play roots on you with that lock-box business and these
+letters, because I did not want you to know what I was up to, for you
+mightn't like it, and might think it was lowerin' to the old firm,
+don't yer see?  I wouldn't hev gone into it, but I was played out, and
+I don't mind tellin' you _now_, old man, that when I wrote you that
+first chipper letter from the lock-box I hedn't eat anythin' for two
+days.  But it's all right _now_," with a laugh.  "Then I got into this
+business--thinkin' it nothin'--jest the very last thing--and do you
+know, old pard, I couldn't tell anybody but you--and, in fact, I kept
+it jest to tell you--I've made nine hundred and fifty-six dollars!
+Yes, sir, _nine hundred and fifty-six dollars_! solid money, in Adams
+and Co.'s Bank, just out er my trade."
+
+"Wot trade?" asked Uncle Billy.
+
+Uncle Jim pointed to the corner, where stood a large, heavy
+crossing-sweeper's broom.  "That trade."
+
+"Certingly," said Uncle Billy, with a quick laugh.
+
+"It's an outdoor trade," said Uncle Jim gravely, but with no suggestion
+of awkwardness or apology in his manner; "and thar ain't much
+difference between sweepin' a crossin' with a broom and raking over
+tailing with a rake, _only--wot ye get_ with a broom _you have handed
+to ye_, and ye don't have to _pick it up and fish it out er_ the wet
+rocks and sluice-gushin'; and it's a heap less tiring to the back."
+
+"Certingly, you bet!" said Uncle Billy enthusiastically, yet with a
+certain nervous abstraction.
+
+"I'm glad ye say so; for yer see I didn't know at first how you'd
+tumble to my doing it, until I'd made my pile.  And ef I hadn't made
+it, I wouldn't hev set eyes on ye agin, old pard--never!"
+
+"Do you mind my runnin' out a minit?" said Uncle Billy, rising.  "You
+see, I've got a friend waitin' for me outside--and I reckon"--he
+stammered--"I'll jest run out and send him off, so I kin talk comf'ble
+to ye."
+
+"Ye ain't got anybody you're owin' money to," said Uncle Jim earnestly,
+"anybody follerin' you to get paid, eh?  For I kin jest set down right
+here and write ye off a check on the bank!"
+
+"No," said Uncle Billy.  He slipped out of the door, and ran like a
+deer to the waiting carriage.  Thrusting a twenty-dollar gold-piece
+into the coachman's hand, he said hoarsely, "I ain't wantin' that
+kerridge just now; ye ken drive around and hev a private jamboree all
+by yourself the rest of the afternoon, and then come and wait for me at
+the top o' the hill yonder."
+
+Thus quit of his gorgeous equipage, he hurried back to Uncle Jim,
+grasping his ten thousand dollar draft in his pocket.  He was nervous,
+he was frightened, but he must get rid of the draft and his story, and
+have it over.  But before he could speak he was unexpectedly stopped by
+Uncle Jim.
+
+"Now, look yer, Billy boy!" said Uncle Jim; "I got suthin' to say to
+ye--and I might as well clear it off my mind at once, and then we can
+start fair agin.  Now," he went on, with a half laugh, "wasn't it
+enough for _me_ to go on pretendin' I was rich and doing a big
+business, and gettin' up that lock-box dodge so as ye couldn't find out
+whar I hung out and what I was doin'--wasn't it enough for me to go on
+with all this play-actin', but _you_, you long-legged or'nary cuss!
+must get up and go to lyin' and play-acting too!"
+
+"_Me_ play-actin'?  _Me_ lyin'?" gasped Uncle Billy.
+
+Uncle Jim leaned back in his chair and laughed.  "Do you think you
+could fool _me_?  Do you think I didn't see through your little game o'
+going to that swell Oriental, jest as if ye'd made a big strike--and
+all the while ye wasn't sleepin' 'or eatin' there, but jest wrastlin'
+yer hash and having a roll down at the Good Cheer!  Do you think I
+didn't spy on ye and find that out?  Oh, you long-eared jackass-rabbit!"
+
+He laughed until the tears came into his eyes, and Uncle Billy laughed
+too, albeit until the laugh on his face became quite fixed, and he was
+fain to bury his head in his handkerchief.
+
+"And yet," said Uncle Jim, with a deep breath, "gosh!  I was
+frightened--jest for a minit!  I thought, mebbe, you _had_ made a big
+strike--when I got your first letter--and I made up my mind what I'd
+do!  And then I remembered you was jest that kind of an open sluice
+that couldn't keep anythin' to yourself, and you'd have been sure to
+have yelled it out to _me_ the first thing.  So I waited.  And I found
+you out, you old sinner!"  He reached forward and dug Uncle Billy in
+the ribs.
+
+"What _would_ you hev done?" said Uncle Billy, after an hysterical
+collapse.
+
+Uncle Jim's face grew grave again.  "I'd hev--I'd--hev cl'ared out!
+Out er 'Frisco! out er Californy! out er Ameriky!  I couldn't have stud
+it!  Don't think I would hev begrudged ye yer luck!  No man would have
+been gladder than me."  He leaned forward again, and laid his hand
+caressingly upon his partner's arm--"Don't think I'd hev wanted to take
+a penny of it--but I--thar!  I _couldn't_ hev stood up under it!  To
+hev had _you_, you, you that I left behind, comin' down here rollin' in
+wealth and new partners and friends, and arrive upon me--and this
+shonty--and"--he threw towards the corner of the room a terrible
+gesture, none the less terrible that it was illogical and inconsequent,
+to all that had gone before--"and--and--_that broom_!"
+
+There was a dead silence in the room.  With it Uncle Billy seemed to
+feel himself again transported to the homely cabin at Cedar Camp and
+that fateful night, with his partner's strange, determined face before
+him as then.  He even fancied that he heard the roaring of the pines
+without, and did not know that it was the distant sea.
+
+But after a minute Uncle Jim resumed:--
+
+"Of course you've made a little raise somehow, or you wouldn't be here?"
+
+"Yes," said Uncle Billy eagerly.  "Yes!  I've got"--  He stopped and
+stammered.  "I've got--a--few hundreds."
+
+"Oh, oh!" said Uncle Jim cheerfully.  He paused, and then added
+earnestly, "I say!  You ain't got left, over and above your d--d
+foolishness at the Oriental, as much as five hundred dollars?"
+
+"I've got," said Uncle Billy, blushing a little over his first
+deliberate and affected lie, "I've got at least five hundred and
+seventy-two dollars.  Yes," he added tentatively, gazing anxiously at
+his partner, "I've got at least that."
+
+"Jee whillikins!" said Uncle Jim, with a laugh.  Then eagerly, "Look
+here, pard!  Then we're on velvet!  I've got _nine_ hundred; put your
+_five_ with that, and I know a little ranch that we can get for twelve
+hundred.  That's what I've been savin' up for--that's my little game!
+No more minin' for _me_.  It's got a shanty twice as big as our old
+cabin, nigh on a hundred acres, and two mustangs.  We can run it with
+two Chinamen and jest make it howl!  Wot yer say--eh?"  He extended his
+hand.
+
+"I'm in," said Uncle Billy, radiantly grasping Uncle Jim's.  But his
+smile faded, and his clear simple brow wrinkled in two lines.
+
+Happily Uncle Jim did not notice it.  "Now, then, old pard," he said
+brightly, "we'll have a gay old time to-night--one of our jamborees!
+I've got some whisky here and a deck o' cards, and we'll have a little
+game, you understand, but not for 'keeps' now!  No, siree; we'll play
+for beans."
+
+A sudden light illuminated Uncle Billy's face again, but he said, with
+a grim desperation, "Not to-night!  I've got to go into town.  That
+fren' o' mine expects me to go to the theayter, don't ye see?  But I'll
+be out to-morrow at sun-up, and we'll fix up this thing o' the ranch."
+
+"Seems to me you're kinder stuck on this fren'," grunted Uncle Jim.
+
+Uncle Billy's heart bounded at his partner's jealousy.  "No--but I
+_must_, you know," he returned, with a faint laugh.
+
+"I say--it ain't a _her_, is it?" said Uncle Jim.
+
+Uncle Billy achieved a diabolical wink and a creditable blush at his
+lie.
+
+"Billy!"
+
+"Jim!"
+
+And under cover of this festive gallantry Uncle Billy escaped.  He ran
+through the gathering darkness, and toiled up the shifting sands to the
+top of the hill, where he found the carriage waiting.
+
+"Wot," said Uncle Billy in a low confidential tone to the coachman,
+"wot do you 'Frisco fellers allow to be the best, biggest, and riskiest
+gamblin'-saloon here?  Suthin' high-toned, you know?"
+
+The negro grinned.  It was the usual case of the extravagant
+spendthrift miner, though perhaps he had expected a different question
+and order.
+
+"Dey is de 'Polka,' de 'El Dorado,' and de 'Arcade' saloon, boss," he
+said, flicking his whip meditatively.  "Most gents from de mines prefer
+de 'Polka,' for dey is dancing wid de gals frown in.  But de real
+_prima facie_ place for gents who go for buckin' agin de tiger and
+straight-out gamblin' is de Arcade.'"
+
+"Drive there like thunder!" said Uncle Billy, leaping into the carriage.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+True to his word, Uncle Billy was at his partner's shanty early the
+next morning.  He looked a little tired, but happy, and had brought a
+draft with him for five hundred and seventy-five dollars, which he
+explained was the total of his capital.  Uncle Jim was overjoyed.  They
+would start for Napa that very day, and conclude the purchase of the
+ranch; Uncle Jim's sprained foot was a sufficient reason for his giving
+up his present vocation, which he could also sell at a small profit.
+His domestic arrangements were very simple; there was nothing to take
+with him--there was everything to leave behind.  And that afternoon, at
+sunset, the two reunited partners were seated on the deck of the Napa
+boat as she swung into the stream.
+
+Uncle Billy was gazing over the railing with a look of abstracted
+relief towards the Golden Gate, where the sinking sun seemed to be
+drawing towards him in the ocean a golden stream that was forever
+pouring from the Bay and the three-hilled city beside it.  What Uncle
+Billy was thinking of, or what the picture suggested to him, did not
+transpire; for Uncle Jim, who, emboldened by his holiday, was
+luxuriating in an evening paper, suddenly uttered a long-drawn whistle,
+and moved closer to his abstracted partner.  "Look yer," he said,
+pointing to a paragraph he had evidently just read, "just you listen to
+this, and see if we ain't lucky, you and me, to be jest wot we
+air--trustin' to our own hard work--and not thinkin' o' 'strikes' and
+'fortins.'  Jest unbutton yer ears, Billy, while I reel off this yer
+thing I've jest struck in the paper, and see what d--d fools some men
+kin make o' themselves.  And that theer reporter wot wrote it--must hev
+seed it reely!"
+
+Uncle Jim cleared his throat, and holding the paper close to his eyes
+read aloud slowly:--
+
+"'A scene of excitement that recalled the palmy days of '49 was
+witnessed last night at the Arcade Saloon.  A stranger, who might have
+belonged to that reckless epoch, and who bore every evidence of being a
+successful Pike County miner out on a "spree," appeared at one of the
+tables with a negro coachman bearing two heavy bags of gold.  Selecting
+a faro-bank as his base of operations, he began to bet heavily and with
+apparent recklessness, until his play excited the breathless attention
+of every one.  In a few moments he had won a sum variously estimated at
+from eighty to a hundred thousand dollars.  A rumor went round the room
+that it was a concerted attempt to "break the bank" rather than the
+drunken freak of a Western miner, dazzled by some successful strike.
+To this theory the man's careless and indifferent bearing towards his
+extraordinary gains lent great credence.  The attempt, if such it was,
+however, was unsuccessful.  After winning ten times in succession the
+luck turned, and the unfortunate "bucket" was cleared out not only of
+his gains, but of his original investment, which may be placed roughly
+at twenty thousand dollars.  This extraordinary play was witnessed by a
+crowd of excited players, who were less impressed by even the magnitude
+of the stakes than the perfect _sang froid_ and recklessness of the
+player, who, it is said, at the close of the game tossed a
+twenty-dollar gold-piece to the banker and smilingly withdrew.  The man
+was not recognized by any of the habitués of the place.'
+
+"There!" said Uncle Jim, as he hurriedly slurred over the French
+substantive at the close, "did ye ever see such God-forsaken
+foolishness?"
+
+Uncle Billy lifted his abstracted eyes from the current, still pouring
+its unreturning gold into the sulking sun, and said, with a deprecatory
+smile, "Never!"
+
+Nor even in the days of prosperity that visited the Great Wheat Ranch
+of "Fall and Foster" did he ever tell his secret to his partner.
+
+
+
+
+THE NOTARY OF PERIGUEUX
+
+By H. W. LONGFELLOW
+
+Do not trust thy body with a physician.  He'll make thy foolish bones
+go without flesh in a fortnight, and thy soul walk without a body in a
+se'nnight after.--_Shirley_.
+
+
+You must know, gentlemen, that there lived some years ago, in the city
+of Périgueux, an honest notary public, the descendant of a very ancient
+and broken-down family, and the occupant of one of those old
+weather-beaten tenements which remind you of the times of your
+great-grandfather.  He was a man of an unoffending, quiet disposition;
+the father of a family, though not the head of it--for in that family
+"the hen overcrowed the cock," and the neighbors, when they spake of
+the notary, shrugged their shoulders, and exclaimed, "Poor fellow! his
+spurs want sharpening."  In fine--you understand me, gentlemen--he was
+hen-pecked.
+
+Well, finding no peace at home, he sought it elsewhere, as was very
+natural for him to do; and at length discovered a place of rest far
+beyond the cares and clamors of domestic life.  This was a little _café
+estaminet_ a short way out of the city, whither he repaired every
+evening to smoke his pipe, drink sugar-water, and play his favorite
+game of domino.  There he met the boon companions he most loved; heard
+all the floating chit-chat of the day; laughed when he was in a merry
+mood; found consolation when he was sad; and at all times gave vent to
+his opinions without fear of being snubbed short by a flat
+contradiction.
+
+Now, the notary's bosom friend was a dealer in claret and cognac, who
+lived about a league from the city, and always passed his evenings at
+the _estaminet_.  He was a gross, corpulent fellow, raised from a
+full-blooded Gascon breed, and sired by a comic actor of some
+reputation in his way.  He was remarkable for nothing but his
+good-humor, his love of cards, and a strong propensity to test the
+quality of his own liquors by comparing them with those sold at other
+places.
+
+As evil communications corrupt good manners, the bad practices of the
+wine-dealer won insensibly upon the worthy notary; and before he was
+aware of it, he found himself weaned from domino and sugar-water, and
+addicted to piquet and spiced wine.  Indeed, it not infrequently
+happened that, after a long session at the _estaminet_, the two friends
+grew so urbane that they would waste a full half-hour at the door in
+friendly dispute which should conduct the other home.
+
+Though this course of life agreed well enough with the sluggish,
+phlegmatic temperament of the wine-dealer, it soon began to play the
+very deuce with the more sensitive organization of the notary, and
+finally put his nervous system completely out of tune.  He lost his
+appetite, became gaunt and haggard, and could get no sleep.  Legions of
+blue-devils haunted him by day, and by night strange faces peeped
+through his bed-curtains and the nightmare snorted in his ear.  The
+worse he grew the more he smoked and tippled; and the more he smoked
+and tippled, why, as a matter of course, the worse he grew.  His wife
+alternately stormed, remonstrated, entreated; but all in vain.  She
+made the house too hot for him--he retreated to the tavern; she broke
+his long-stemmed pipes upon the andirons--he substituted a
+short-stemmed one, which, for safe-keeping, he carried in his waistcoat
+pocket.
+
+Thus the unhappy notary ran gradually down at the heel.  What with his
+bad habits and his domestic grievances, he became completely hipped.
+He imagined that he was going to die, and suffered in quick succession
+all the diseases that ever beset mortal man.  Every shooting pain was
+an alarming symptom--every uneasy feeling after dinner a sure
+prognostic of some mortal disease.  In vain did his friends endeavor to
+reason, and then to laugh him out of his strange whims; for when did
+ever jest or reason cure a sick imagination?  His only answer was, "Do
+let me alone; I know better than you what ails me."
+
+Well, gentlemen, things were in this state when, one afternoon in
+December, as he sat moping in his office, wrapped in an overcoat, with
+a cap on his head and his feet thrust into a pair of furred slippers, a
+cabriolet stopped at the door, and a loud knocking without aroused him
+from his gloomy revery.  It was a message from his friend the
+wine-dealer, who had been suddenly attacked with a violent fever, and,
+growing worse and worse, bad now sent in the greatest haste for the
+notary to draw up his last will and testament.  The case was urgent,
+and admitted neither excuse nor delay; and the notary, tying a
+handkerchief round his face, and buttoning up to the chin, jumped into
+the cabriolet, and suffered himself, though not without some dismal
+presentiments and misgivings of heart, to be driven to the
+wine-dealer's house.
+
+When he arrived he found everything in the greatest confusion.  On
+entering the house he ran against the apothecary, who was coming down
+stairs, with a face as long as your arm; and a few steps farther he met
+the housekeeper--for the wine-dealer was an old bachelor--running up
+and down, and wringing her hands, for fear that the good man should die
+without making his will.  He soon reached the chamber of his sick
+friend, and found him tossing about in a paroxysm of fever, and calling
+aloud for a draught of cold water.  The notary shook his head; he
+thought this a fatal symptom; for ten years back the wine-dealer had
+been suffering under a species of hydrophobia, which seemed suddenly to
+have left him.
+
+When the sick man saw who stood by his bedside he stretched out his
+hand and exclaimed:
+
+"Ah! my dear friend! have you come at last?  You see it is all over
+with me.  You have arrived just in time to draw up that--that passport
+of mine.  Ah, _grand diable_! how hot it is here!  Water--water--water!
+Will nobody give me a drop of cold water?"
+
+As the case was an urgent one, the notary made no delay in getting his
+papers in readiness; and in a short time the last will and testament of
+the wine-dealer was drawn up in due form, the notary guiding the sick
+man's hand as he scrawled his signature at the bottom.
+
+As the evening wore away, the wine-dealer grew worse and worse, and at
+length became delirious, mingling in his incoherent ravings the phrases
+of the Credo and Paternoster with the shibboleth of the dram-shop and
+the card-table.
+
+"Take care! take care!  There, now--_Credo in_--Pop!  ting-a-ling-ling!
+give me some of that.  Cent-é-dize!  Why, you old publican, this wine
+is poisoned--I know your tricks!--_Sanctam ecclesiam Catholicam_--Well,
+well, we shall see.  Imbecile! to have a tierce-major and a seven of
+hearts, and discard the seven!  By St.  Anthony, capot!  You are
+lurched--ha! ha!  I told you so.  I knew very well--there--there--don't
+interrupt me--_Carnis resurrectionem et vitam eternam_!"
+
+With these words upon his lips the poor wine-dealer expired.  Meanwhile
+the notary sat cowering over the fire, aghast at the fearful scene that
+was passing before him, and now and then striving to keep up his
+courage by a glass of cognac.  Already his fears were on the alert, and
+the idea of contagion flitted to and fro through his mind.  In order to
+quiet these thoughts of evil import, he lighted his pipe, and began to
+prepare for returning home.  At that moment the apothecary turned round
+to him and said:
+
+"Dreadful sickly time, this! The disorder seems to be spreading."
+
+"What disorder?" exclaimed the notary, with a movement of surprise.
+
+"Two died yesterday, and three to-day," continued the apothecary,
+without answering the question.  "Very sickly time, sir--very."
+
+"But what disorder is it?  What disease has carried off my friend here
+so suddenly?"
+
+"What disease?  Why, scarlet fever, to be sure."
+
+"And is it contagious?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Then I am a dead man!" exclaimed the notary, putting his pipe into his
+waistcoat-pocket, and beginning to walk up and down the room in
+despair.  "I am a dead man!  Now don't deceive me--don't, will you?
+What--what are the symptoms?"
+
+"A sharp burning pain in the right side," said the apothecary.
+
+"Oh, what a fool I was to come here!"
+
+In vain did the housekeeper and the apothecary strive to pacify him--he
+was not a man to be reasoned with; he answered that he knew his own
+constitution better than they did, and insisted upon going home without
+delay.  Unfortunately, the vehicle he came in had returned to the city,
+and the whole neighborhood was abed and asleep.  What was to be done?
+Nothing in the world but to take the apothecary's horse, which stood
+hitched at the door, patiently waiting his master's will.
+
+Well, gentlemen, as there was no remedy, our notary mounted this
+raw-boned steed, and set forth upon his homeward journey.  The night
+was cold and gusty, and the wind right in his teeth.  Overhead the
+leaden clouds were beating to and fro, and through them the newly-risen
+moon seemed to be tossing and drifting along like a cock-boat in the
+surf; now swallowed up in a huge billow of cloud, and now lifted upon
+its bosom and dashed with silvery spray.  The trees by the roadside
+groaned with a sound of evil omen, and before him lay three mortal
+miles, beset with a thousand imaginary perils.  Obedient to the whip
+and spur, the steed leaped forward by fits and starts, now dashing away
+in a tremendous gallop, and now relaxing into a long, hard trot; while
+the rider, filled with symptoms of disease and dire presentiments of
+death, urged him on, as if he were fleeing before the pestilence.
+
+In this way, by dint of whistling and shouting, and beating right and
+left, one mile of the fatal three was safely passed.  The apprehensions
+of the notary had so far subsided that he even suffered the poor horse
+to walk up hill; but these apprehensions were suddenly revived again
+with tenfold violence by a sharp pain in the right side, which seemed
+to pierce him like a needle.
+
+"It is upon me at last!" groaned the fear-stricken man.  "Heaven be
+merciful to me, the greatest of sinners!  And must I die in a ditch,
+after all?  He! get up! get up!"
+
+And away went horse and rider at full speed--hurry-scurry--up hill and
+down--panting and blowing like a whirlwind.  At every leap the pain in
+the rider's side seemed to increase.  At first it was a little point
+like the prick of a needle--then it spread to the size of a half-franc
+piece--then covered a place as large as the palm of your hand.  It
+gained upon him fast.  The poor man groaned aloud in agony; faster and
+faster sped the horse over the frozen ground--farther and farther
+spread the pain over his side.  To complete the dismal picture, the
+storm commenced--snow mingled with rain.  But snow and rain, and cold
+were naught to him; for, though his arms and legs were frozen to
+icicles, he felt it not; the fatal symptom was upon him; he was doomed
+to die--not of cold, but of scarlet fever!
+
+At length, he knew not how, more dead than alive, he reached the gate
+of the city.  A band of ill-bred dogs, that were serenading at a corner
+of the street, seeing the notary dash by, joined in the hue and cry,
+and ran barking and yelping at his heels.  It was now late at night,
+and only here and there a solitary lamp twinkled from an upper story.
+But on went the notary, down this street and up that, till at last he
+reached his own door.  There was a light in his wife's bedchamber.  The
+good woman came to the window, alarmed at such a knocking, and howling,
+and clattering at her door so late at night; and the notary was too
+deeply absorbed in his own sorrows to observe that the lamp cast the
+shadow of two heads on the window-curtain.
+
+"Let me in! let me in!  Quick! quick!" he exclaimed, almost breathless
+from terror and fatigue.
+
+"Who are you, that come to disturb a lone woman at this hour of the
+night?" cried a sharp voice from above.  "Begone about your business,
+and let quiet people sleep."
+
+"Oh, _diable, diable_!  Come down and let me in!  I am your husband.
+Don't you know my voice?  Quick, I beseech you; for I am dying here in
+the street!"
+
+After a few moments of delay and a few more words of parley, the door
+was opened, and the notary stalked into his domicile, pale and haggard
+in aspect, and as stiff and straight as a ghost.  Cased from head to
+heel in an armor of ice, as the glare of the lamp fell upon him he
+looked like a knight-errant mailed in steel.  But in one place his
+armor was broken.  On his right side was a circular spot as large as
+the crown of your hat, and about as black!
+
+"My dear wife!" he exclaimed, with more tenderness than he had
+exhibited for many years, "reach me a chair.  My hours are numbered.  I
+am a dead man!"
+
+Alarmed at these exclamations, his wife stripped off his overcoat.
+Something fell from beneath it, and was dashed to pieces on the hearth.
+It was the notary's pipe.  He placed his hand upon his side, and lo! it
+was bare to the skin.  Coat, waistcoat, and linen were burnt through
+and through, and there was a blister on his side as large over as your
+head!
+
+The mystery was soon explained, symptom and all.  The notary had put
+his pipe into his pocket without knocking out the ashes!  And so my
+story ends.
+
+
+"Is that all?" asked the radical, when the story-teller had finished.
+
+"That is all."
+
+"Well, what does your story prove?"
+
+"That is more than I can tell.  All I know is that the story is true."
+
+"And did he die?" said the nice little man in gosling-green.
+
+"Yes; he died afterward," replied the story-teller, rather annoyed at
+the question.
+
+"And what did he die of?" continued gosling-green, following him up.
+
+"What did he die of? why, he died--of a sudden!"
+
+
+
+
+THE WIDOW'S CRUISE
+
+By F. R. STOCKTON
+
+"From a Story-Teller's Pack."  Copyright 1897 by Charles Scribner's
+Sons.
+
+
+The widow Ducket lived in a small village about ten miles from the New
+Jersey seacoast.  In this village she was born, here she had married
+and buried her husband, and here she expected somebody to bury her; but
+she was in no hurry for this, for she had scarcely reached middle age.
+She was a tall woman with no apparent fat in her composition, and full
+of activity, both muscular and mental.
+
+She rose at six o'clock in the morning, cooked breakfast, set the
+table, washed the dishes when the meal was over, milked, churned,
+swept, washed, ironed, worked in her little garden, attended to the
+flowers in the front yard and in the afternoon knitted and quilted and
+sewed, and after tea she either went to see her neighbors or had them
+come to see her.  When it was really dark she lighted the lamp in her
+parlor and read for an hour, and if it happened to be one of Miss Mary
+Wilkins's books that she read she expressed doubts as to the realism of
+the characters therein described.
+
+These doubts she expressed to Dorcas Networthy, who was a small, plump
+woman, with a solemn face, who had lived with the widow for many years
+and who had become her devoted disciple.  Whatever the widow did, that
+also did Dorcas--not so well, for her heart told her she could never
+expect to do that, but with a yearning anxiety to do everything as well
+as she could.
+
+She rose at five minutes past six, and in a subsidiary way she helped
+to get the breakfast, to eat it, to wash up the dishes, to work in the
+garden, to quilt, to sew, to visit and receive, and no one could have
+tried harder than she did to keep awake when the widow read aloud in
+the evening.
+
+All these things happened every day in the summer-time, but in the
+winter the widow and Dorcas cleared the snow from their little front
+path instead of attending to the flowers, and in the evening they
+lighted a fire as well as a lamp in the parlor.
+
+Sometimes, however, something different happened, but this was not
+often, only a few times in the year.  One of the different things
+occurred when Mrs. Ducket and Dorcas were sitting on their little front
+porch one summer afternoon, one on the little bench on one side of the
+door, and the other on the little bench on the other side of the door,
+each waiting until she should hear the clock strike five, to prepare
+tea.  But it was not yet a quarter to five when a one-horse wagon
+containing four men came slowly down the street.  Dorcas first saw the
+wagon, and she instantly stopped knitting.
+
+"Mercy on me!" she exclaimed.  "Whoever those people are, they are
+strangers here, and they don't know where to stop, for they first go to
+one side of the street and then to the other."
+
+The widow looked around sharply.  "Humph!" said she.  "Those men are
+sailormen.  You might see that in a twinklin' of an eye.  Sailormen
+always drive that way, because that is the way they sail ships.  They
+first tack in one direction and then in another."
+
+"Mr. Ducket didn't like the sea?" remarked Dorcas, for about the three
+hundredth time.
+
+"No, he didn't," answered the widow, for about the two hundred and
+fiftieth time, for there had been occasions when she thought Dorcas put
+this question inopportunely.  "He hated it, and he was drowned in it
+through trustin' a sailorman, which I never did nor shall.  Do you
+really believe those men are comin' here?"
+
+"Upon my word I do!" said Dorcas, and her opinion was correct.
+
+The wagon drew up in front of Mrs. Ducket's little white house, and the
+two women sat rigidly, their hands in their laps, staring at the man
+who drove.
+
+This was an elderly personage with whitish hair, and under his chin a
+thin whitish beard, which waved in the gentle breeze and gave Dorcas
+the idea that his head was filled with hair which was leaking out from
+below.
+
+"Is this the Widow Ducket's?" inquired this elderly man, in a strong,
+penetrating voice.
+
+"That's my name," said the widow, and laying her knitting on the bench
+beside her, she went to the gate.  Dorcas also laid her knitting on the
+bench beside her and went to the gate.
+
+"I was told," said the elderly man, "at a house we touched at about a
+quarter of a mile back, that the Widow Ducket's was the only house in
+this village where there was any chance of me and my mates getting a
+meal.  We are four sailors, and we are making from the bay over to
+Cuppertown, and that's eight miles ahead yet, and we are all pretty
+sharp set for something to eat."
+
+"This is the place," said the widow, "and I do give meals if there is
+enough in the house and everything comes handy."
+
+"Does everything come handy to-day?" said he.
+
+"It does," said she, "and you can hitch your horse and come in; but I
+haven't got anything for him."
+
+"Oh, that's all right," said the man, "we brought along stores for him,
+so we'll just make fast and then come in."
+
+The two women hurried into the house in a state of bustling
+preparation, for the furnishing of this meal meant one dollar in cash.
+
+The four mariners, all elderly men, descended from the wagon, each one
+scrambling with alacrity over a different wheel.
+
+A box of broken ship-biscuit was brought out and put on the ground in
+front of the horse, who immediately set himself to eating with great
+satisfaction.
+
+Tea was a little late that day, because there were six persons to
+provide for instead of two, but it was a good meal, and after the four
+seamen had washed their hands and faces at the pump in the back yard
+and had wiped them on two towels furnished by Dorcas, they all came in
+and sat down.  Mrs. Ducket seated herself at the head of the table with
+the dignity proper to the mistress of the house, and Dorcas seated
+herself at the other end with the dignity proper to the disciple of the
+mistress.  No service was necessary, for everything that was to be
+eaten or drunk was on the table.
+
+When each of the elderly mariners had had as much bread and butter,
+quickly baked soda-biscuit, dried beef, cold ham, cold tongue, and
+preserved fruit of every variety known, as his storage capacity would
+permit, the mariner in command, Captain Bird, pushed back his chair,
+whereupon the other mariners pushed back their chairs.
+
+"Madam," said Captain Bird, "we have all made a good meal, which didn't
+need to be no better nor more of it, and we're satisfied; but that
+horse out there has not had time to rest himself enough to go the eight
+miles that lies ahead of us, so, if it's all the same to you and this
+good lady, we'd like to sit on that front porch awhile and smoke our
+pipes.  I was a-looking at that porch when I came in, and I bethought
+to myself what a rare good place it was to smoke a pipe in."
+
+"There's pipes been smoked there," said the widow, rising, "and it can
+be done again.  Inside the house I don't allow tobacco, but on the
+porch neither of us minds."
+
+So the four captains betook themselves to the porch, two of them
+seating themselves on the little bench on one side of the door, and two
+of them on the little bench on the other side of the door, and lighted
+their pipes.
+
+"Shall we clear off the table and wash up the dishes," said Dorcas, "or
+wait until they are gone?"
+
+"We will wait until they are gone," said the widow, "for now that they
+are here we might as well have a bit of a chat with them.  When a
+sailorman lights his pipe he is generally willin' to talk, but when he
+is eatin' you can't get a word out of him."
+
+Without thinking it necessary to ask permission, for the house belonged
+to her, the Widow Ducket brought a chair and put it in the hall close
+to the open front door, and Dorcas brought another chair and seated
+herself by the side of the widow.
+
+"Do all you sailormen belong down there at the bay?" asked Mrs. Ducket;
+thus the conversation began, and in a few minutes it had reached a
+point at which Captain Bird thought it proper to say that a great many
+strange things happen to seamen sailing on the sea which lands-people
+never dream of.
+
+"Such as anything in particular?" asked the widow, at which remark
+Dorcas clasped her hands in expectancy.
+
+At this question each of the mariners took his pipe from his mouth and
+gazed upon the floor in thought.
+
+"There's a good many strange things happened to me and my mates at sea.
+Would you and that other lady like to hear any of them?" asked Captain
+Bird.
+
+"We would like to hear them if they are true," said the widow.
+
+"There's nothing happened to me and my mates that isn't true," said
+Captain Bird, "and here is something that once happened to me: I was on
+a whaling v'yage when a big sperm-whale, just as mad as a fiery bull,
+came at us, head on, and struck the ship at the stern with such
+tremendous force that his head crashed right through her timbers and he
+went nearly half his length into her hull.  The hold was mostly filled
+with empty barrels, for we was just beginning our v'yage, and when he
+had made kindling-wood of these there was room enough for him.  We all
+expected that it wouldn't take five minutes for the vessel to fill and
+go to the bottom, and we made ready to take to the boats; but it turned
+out we didn't need to take to no boats, for as fast as the water rushed
+into the hold of the ship, that whale drank it and squirted it up
+through the two blow-holes in the top of his head, and as there was an
+open hatchway just over his head, the water all went into the sea
+again, and that whale kept working day and night pumping the water out
+until we beached the vessel on the island of Trinidad--the whale
+helping us wonderful on our way over by the powerful working of his
+tail, which, being outside in the water, acted like a propeller.  I
+don't believe anything stranger than that ever happened to a
+whaling-ship."
+
+"No," said the widow, "I don't believe anything ever did."
+
+Captain Bird now looked at Captain Sanderson, and the latter took his
+pipe out of his mouth and said that in all his sailing around the world
+he had never known anything queerer than what happened to a big
+steamship he chanced to be on, which ran into an island in a fog.
+Everybody on board thought the ship was wrecked, but it had twin
+screws, and was going at such a tremendous speed that it turned the
+island entirely upside down and sailed over it, and he had heard tell
+that even now people sailing over the spot could look down into the
+water and see the roots of the trees and the cellars of the houses.
+
+Captain Sanderson now put his pipe back into his mouth, and Captain
+Burress took out his pipe.
+
+"I was once in an obelisk-ship," said he, "that used to trade regular
+between Egypt and New York, carrying obelisks.  We had a big obelisk on
+board.  The way they ship obelisks is to make a hole in the stern of
+the ship, and run the obelisk in, p'inted end foremost; and this
+obelisk filled up nearly the whole of that ship from stern to bow.  We
+was about ten days out, and sailing afore a northeast gale with the
+engines at full speed, when suddenly we spied breakers ahead, and our
+captain saw we was about to run on a bank.  Now if we hadn't had an
+obelisk on board we might have sailed over that bank, but the captain
+knew that with an obelisk on board we drew too much water for this, and
+that we'd be wrecked in about fifty-five seconds if something wasn't
+done quick.  So he had to do something quick, and this is what he did:
+He ordered all steam on, and drove slam-bang on that bank.  Just as he
+expected, we stopped so suddint that that big obelisk bounced for'ard,
+its p'inted end foremost, and went clean through the bow and shot out
+into the sea.  The minute it did that the vessel was so lightened that
+it rose in the water and we then steamed over the bank.  There was one
+man knocked overboard by the shock when we struck, but as soon as we
+missed him we went back after him and we got him all right.  You see,
+when that obelisk went overboard, its butt-end, which was heaviest,
+went down first, and when it touched the bottom it just stood there,
+and as it was such a big obelisk there was about five and a half feet
+of it stuck out of the water.  The man who was knocked overboard he
+just swum for that obelisk and he climbed up the hiryglyphics.  It was
+a mighty fine obelisk, and the Egyptians had cut their hiryglyphics
+good and deep, so that the man could get hand and foot hold; and when
+we got to him and took him off, he was sitting high and dry on the
+p'inted end of that obelisk.  It was a great pity about the obelisk,
+for it was a good obelisk, but as I never heard the company tried to
+raise it, I expect it is standing there yet."
+
+Captain Burress now put his pipe back into his mouth and looked at
+Captain Jenkinson, who removed his pipe and said:
+
+"The queerest thing that ever happened to me was about a shark.  We was
+off the Banks, and the time of year was July, and the ice was coming
+down, and we got in among a lot of it.  Not far away, off our weather
+bow, there was a little iceberg which had such a queerness about it
+that the captain and three men went in a boat to look at it.  The ice
+was mighty clear ice, and you could see almost through it, and right
+inside of it, not more than three feet above the water-line, and about
+two feet, or maybe twenty inches, inside the ice, was a whopping big
+shark, about fourteen feet long,--a regular man-eater,--frozen in there
+hard and fast.  'Bless my soul,' said the captain, 'this is a wonderful
+curiosity, and I'm going to git him out.'  Just then one of the men
+said he saw that shark wink, but the captain wouldn't believe him, for
+he said that shark was frozen stiff and hard and couldn't wink.  You
+see, the captain had his own idees about things, and he knew that
+whales was warm-blooded and would freeze if they was shut up in ice,
+but he forgot that sharks was not whales and that they're cold-blooded
+just like toads.  And there is toads that has been shut up in rocks for
+thousands of years, and they stayed alive, no matter how cold the place
+was, because they was cold-blooded, and when the rocks was split, out
+hopped the frog.  But, as I said before, the captain forgot sharks was
+cold-blooded, and he determined to git that one out.
+
+"Now you both know, being housekeepers, that if you take a needle and
+drive it into a hunk of ice you can split it.  The captain had a
+sail-needle with him, and so he drove it into the iceberg right
+alongside of the shark and split it.  Now the minute he did it he knew
+that the man was right when he said he saw the shark wink, for it
+flopped out of that iceberg quicker nor a flash of lightning."
+
+"What a happy fish he must have been!" ejaculated Dorcas, forgetful of
+precedent, so great was her emotion.
+
+"Yes," said Captain Jenkinson, "it was a happy fish enough, but it
+wasn't a happy captain.  You see, that shark hadn't had anything to
+eat, perhaps for a thousand years, until the captain came along with
+his sail-needle."
+
+"Surely you sailormen do see strange things," now said the widow, "and
+the strangest thing about them is that they are true."
+
+"Yes, indeed," said Dorcas, "that is the most wonderful thing."
+
+"You wouldn't suppose," said the Widow Ducket, glancing from one bench
+of mariners to the other, "that I have a sea-story to tell, but I have,
+and if you like I will tell it to you."
+
+Captain Bird looked up a little surprised.
+
+"We would like to hear it--indeed, we would, madam," said he.
+
+"Ay, ay!" said Captain Burress, and the two other mariners nodded.
+
+"It was a good while ago," she said, "when I was living on the shore
+near the head of the bay, that my husband was away and I was left alone
+in the house.  One mornin' my sister-in-law, who lived on the other
+side of the bay, sent me word by a boy on a horse that she hadn't any
+oil in the house to fill the lamp that she always put in the window to
+light her husband home, who was a fisherman, and if I would send her
+some by the boy she would pay me back as soon as they bought oil.  The
+boy said he would stop on his way home and take the oil to her, but he
+never did stop, or perhaps he never went back, and about five o'clock I
+began to get dreadfully worried, for I knew if that lamp wasn't in my
+sister-in-law's window by dark she might be a widow before midnight.
+So I said to myself, 'I've got to get that oil to her, no matter what
+happens or how it's done.'  Of course I couldn't tell what might
+happen, but there was only one way it could be done, and that was for
+me to get into the boat that was tied to the post down by the water,
+and take it to her, for it was too far for me to walk around by the
+head of the bay.  Now, the trouble was, I didn't know no more about a
+boat and the managin' of it than any one of you sailormen knows about
+clear-starchin'.  But there wasn't no use of thinkin' what I knew and
+what I didn't know, for I had to take it to her, and there was no way
+of doin' it except in that boat.  So I filled a gallon can, for I
+thought I might as well take enough while I was about it, and I went
+down to the water and I unhitched that boat and I put the oil-can into
+her, and then I got in, and off I started, and when I was about a
+quarter of a mile from the shore--"
+
+"Madam," interrupted Captain Bird, "did you row or--or was there a sail
+to the boat?"
+
+The widow looked at the questioner for a moment.  "No," said she, "I
+didn't row.  I forgot to bring the oars from the house; but it didn't
+matter, for I didn't know how to use them, and if there had been a sail
+I couldn't have put it up, for I didn't know how to use it, either.  I
+used the rudder to make the boat go.  The rudder was the only thing I
+knew anything about.  I'd held a rudder when I was a little girl, and I
+knew how to work it.  So I just took hold of the handle of the rudder
+and turned it round and round, and that made the boat go ahead, you
+know, and--"
+
+"Madam!" exclaimed Captain Bird, and the other elderly mariners took
+their pipes from their mouths.
+
+"Yes, that is the way I did it," continued the widow, briskly.  "Big
+steamships are made to go by a propeller turning round and round at
+their back ends, and I made the rudder work in the same way, and I got
+along very well, too, until suddenly, when I was about a quarter of a
+mile from the shore, a most terrible and awful storm arose.  There must
+have been a typhoon or a cyclone out at sea, for the waves came up the
+bay bigger than houses, and when they got to the head of the bay they
+turned around and tried to get out to sea again.  So in this way they
+continually met, and made the most awful and roarin' pilin' up of waves
+that ever was known.
+
+"My little boat was pitched about as if it had been a feather in a
+breeze, and when the front part of it was cleavin' itself down into the
+water the hind part was stickin' up until the rudder whizzed around
+like a patent churn with no milk in it.  The thunder began to roar and
+the lightnin' flashed, and three sea-gulls, so nearly frightened to
+death that they began to turn up the whites of their eyes, flew down
+and sat on one of the seats of the boat, forgettin' in that awful
+moment that man was their nat'ral enemy.  I had a couple of biscuits in
+my pocket, because I had thought I might want a bite in crossing, and I
+crumpled up one of these and fed the poor creatures.  Then I began to
+wonder what I was goin' to do, for things were gettin' awfuller and
+awfuller every instant, and the little boat was a-heavin' and
+a-pitchin' and a-rollin' and h'istin' itself up, first on one end and
+then on the other, to such an extent that if I hadn't kept tight hold
+of the rudder-handle I'd slipped off the seat I was sittin' on.
+
+"All of a sudden I remembered that oil in the can; but just as I was
+puttin' my fingers on the cork my conscience smote me.  'Am I goin' to
+use this oil,' I said to myself, 'and let my sister-in-law's husband be
+wrecked for want of it?'  And then I thought that he wouldn't want it
+all that night, and perhaps they would buy oil the next day, and so I
+poured out about a tumblerful of it on the water, and I can just tell
+you sailormen that you never saw anything act as prompt as that did.
+In three seconds, or perhaps five, the water all around me, for the
+distance of a small front yard, was just as flat as a table and as
+smooth as glass, and so invitin' in appearance that the three gulls
+jumped out of the boat and began to swim about on it, primin' their
+feathers and lookin' at themselves in the transparent depths, though I
+must say that one of them made an awful face as he dipped his bill into
+the water and tasted kerosene.
+
+"Now I had time to sit quiet in the midst of the placid space I had
+made for myself, and rest from workin' of the rudder.  Truly it was a
+wonderful and marvelous thing to look at.  The waves was roarin' and
+leapin' up all around me higher than the roof of this house, and
+sometimes their tops would reach over so that they nearly met and shut
+out all view of the stormy sky, which seemed as if it was bein' torn to
+pieces by blazin' lightnin', while the thunder pealed so tremendous
+that it almost drowned the roar of the waves.  Not only above and all
+around me was everything terrific and fearful, but even under me it was
+the same, for there was a big crack in the bottom of the boat as wide
+as my hand, and through this I could see down into the water beneath,
+and there was--"
+
+"Madam!" ejaculated Captain Bird, the hand which, had been holding his
+pipe a few inches from his mouth now dropping to his knee; and at this
+motion the hands which held the pipes of the three other mariners
+dropped to their knees.
+
+"Of course it sounds strange," continued the widow, "but I know that
+people can see down into clear water, and the water under me was clear,
+and the crack was wide enough for me to see through, and down under me
+was sharks and swordfishes and other horrible water creatures, which I
+had never seen before, all driven into the bay, I haven't a doubt, by
+the violence of the storm out at sea.  The thought of my bein' upset
+and fallin' in among those monsters made my very blood run cold, and
+involuntary-like I began to turn the handle of the rudder, and in a
+moment I shot into a wall of ragin' sea-water that was towerin' around
+me.  For a second I was fairly blinded and stunned, but I had the cork
+out of that oil-can in no time, and very soon--you'd scarcely believe
+it if I told you how soon--I had another placid mill-pond surroundin'
+of me.  I sat there a-pantin' and fannin' with my straw hat, for you'd
+better believe I was flustered, and then I began to think how long it
+would take me to make a line of mill-ponds clean across the head of the
+bay, and how much oil it would need, and whether I had enough.  So I
+sat and calculated that if a tumblerful of oil would make a smooth
+place about seven yards across, which I should say was the width of the
+one I was in,--which I calculated by a measure of my eye as to how many
+breadths of carpet it would take to cover it,--and if the bay was two
+miles across betwixt our house and my sister-in-law's, and, although I
+couldn't get the thing down to exact figures, I saw pretty soon that I
+wouldn't have oil enough to make a level cuttin' through all those
+mountainous billows, and besides, even if I had enough to take me
+across, what would be the good of goin' if there wasn't any oil left to
+fill my sister-in-law's lamp?
+
+"While I was thinkin' and calculatin' a perfectly dreadful thing
+happened, which made me think if I didn't get out of this pretty soon
+I'd find myself in a mighty risky predicament.  The oil-can, which I
+had forgotten to put the cork in, toppled over, and before I could grab
+it every drop of the oil ran into the hind part of the boat, where it
+was soaked up by a lot of dry dust that was there.  No wonder my heart
+sank when I saw this.  Glancin' wildly around me, as people will do
+when they are scared, I saw the smooth place I was in gettin' smaller
+and smaller, for the kerosene was evaporating as it will do even off
+woolen clothes if you give it time enough.  The first pond I had come
+out of seemed to be covered up, and the great, towerin', throbbin'
+precipice of sea-water was a-closin' around me.
+
+"Castin' down my eyes in despair, I happened to look through the crack
+in the bottom of the boat, and oh, what a blessed relief it was! for
+down there everything was smooth and still, and I could see the sand on
+the bottom, as level and hard, no doubt, as it was on the beach.
+Suddenly the thought struck me that that bottom would give me the only
+chance I had of gettin' out of the frightful fix I was in.  If I could
+fill that oil-can with air, and then puttin' it under my arm and takin'
+a long breath if I could drop down on that smooth bottom, I might run
+along toward shore, as far as I could, and then, when I felt my breath
+was givin' out, I could take a pull at the oil-can and take another
+run, and then take another pull and another run, and perhaps the can
+would hold air enough for me until I got near enough to shore to wade
+to dry land.  To be sure, the sharks and other monsters were down
+there, but then they must have been awfully frightened, and perhaps
+they might not remember that man was their nat'ral enemy.  Anyway, I
+thought it would be better to try the smooth water passage down there
+than stay and be swallowed up by the ragin' waves on top.
+
+"So I blew the can full of air and corked it, and then I tore up some
+of the boards from the bottom of the boat so as to make a hole big
+enough for me to get through,--and you sailormen needn't wriggle so
+when I say that, for you all know a divin'-bell hasn't any bottom at
+all and the water never comes in,--and so when I got the hole big
+enough I took the oil-can under my arm, and was just about to slip down
+through it when I saw an awful turtle a-walkin' through the sand at the
+bottom.  Now, I might trust sharks and swordfishes and sea-serpents to
+be frightened and forget about their nat'ral enemies, but I never could
+trust a gray turtle as big as a cart, with a black neck a yard long,
+with yellow bags to its jaws, to forget anything or to remember
+anything.  I'd as lieve get into a bathtub with a live crab as to go
+down there.  It wasn't of no use even so much as thinkin' of it, so I
+gave up that plan and didn't once look through that hole again."
+
+"And what did you do, madam?" asked Captain Bird, who was regarding her
+with a face of stone.
+
+"I used electricity," she said "Now don't start as if you had a shock
+of it.  That's what I used.  When I was younger than I was then, and
+sometimes visited friends in the city, we often amused ourselves by
+rubbing our feet on the carpet until we got ourselves so full of
+electricity that we could put up our fingers and light the gas.  So I
+said to myself that if I could get full of electricity for the purpose
+of lightin' the gas I could get full of it for other purposes, and so,
+without losin' a moment, I set to work.  I stood up on one of the
+seats, which was dry, and rubbed the bottoms of my shoes backward and
+forward on it with such violence and swiftness that they pretty soon
+got warm and I began fillin' with electricity, and when I was fully
+charged with it from my toes to the top of my head, I just sprang into
+the water and swam ashore.  Of course I couldn't sink, bein' full of
+electricity."
+
+Captain Bird heaved a long sigh and rose to his feet, whereupon the
+other mariners rose to their feet.  "Madam," said Captain Bird, "what's
+to pay for the supper and--the rest of the entertainment?"
+
+"The supper is twenty-five cents apiece," said the Widow Ducket, "and
+everything else is free, gratis."
+
+Whereupon each mariner put his hand into his trousers pocket, pulled
+out a silver quarter, and handed it to the widow.  Then, with four
+solemn "Good evenin's," they went out to the front gate.
+
+"Cast off, Captain Jenkinson," said Captain Bird, "and you, Captain
+Burress, clew him up for'ard.  You can stay in the bow, Captain
+Sanderson, and take the sheet-lines.  I'll go aft."
+
+All being ready, each of the elderly mariners clambered over a wheel,
+and having seated themselves, they prepared to lay their course for
+Cuppertown.
+
+But just as they were about to start, Captain Jenkinson asked that they
+lay to a bit, and clambering down over his wheel, he reëntered the
+front gate and went up to the door of the house, where the widow and
+Dorcas were still standing.
+
+"Madam," said he, "I just came back to ask what became of your
+brother-in-law through his wife's not bein' able to put no light in the
+window?"
+
+"The storm drove him ashore on our side of the bay," said she, "and the
+next mornin' he came up to our house, and I told him all that had
+happened to me.  And when he took our boat and went home and told that
+story to his wife, she just packed up and went out West, and got
+divorced from him.  And it served him right, too."
+
+"Thank you, ma'am," said Captain Jenkinson, and going out of the gate,
+he clambered up over the wheel, and the wagon cleared for Cuppertown.
+
+When the elderly mariners were gone, the Widow Ducket, still standing
+in the door, turned to Dorcas.
+
+"Think of it!" she said.  "To tell all that to me, in my own house!
+And after I had opened my one jar of brandied peaches, that I'd been
+keepin' for special company!"
+
+"In your own house!" ejaculated Dorcas.  "And not one of them brandied
+peaches left!"
+
+The widow jingled the four quarters in her hand before she slipped them
+into her pocket.
+
+"Anyway, Dorcas," she remarked, "I think we can now say we are square
+with all the world, and so let's go in and wash the dishes."
+
+"Yes," said Dorcas, "we're square."
+
+
+
+
+THE COUNT AND THE WEDDING GUEST
+
+By O. HENRY
+
+Copyright 1907 by McClure, Phillips & Co.
+
+
+One evening when Andy Donovan went to dinner at his Second Avenue
+boarding-house, Mrs. Scott introduced him to a new boarder, a young
+lady, Miss Conway.  Miss Conway was small and unobtrusive.  She wore a
+plain, snuffy-brown dress, and bestowed her interest, which seemed
+languid, upon her plate.  She lifted her diffident eyelids and shot one
+perspicuous, judicial glance at Mr. Donovan, politely murmured his
+name, and returned to her mutton.  Mr. Donovan bowed with the grace and
+beaming smile that were rapidly winning for him social, business and
+political advancement, and erased the snuffy-brown one from the tablets
+of his consideration.
+
+Two weeks later Andy was sitting on the front steps enjoying his cigar.
+There was a soft rustle behind and above him, and Andy turned his
+head--and had his head turned.
+
+Just coming out the door was Miss Conway.  She wore a night-black dress
+of _crêpe de--crêpe de_--oh, this thin black goods.  Her hat was black,
+and from it drooped and fluttered an ebon veil, filmy as a spider's
+web.  She stood on the top step and drew on black silk gloves.  Not a
+speck of white or a spot of color about her dress anywhere.  Her rich
+golden hair was drawn, with scarcely a ripple, into a shining, smooth
+knot low on her neck.  Her face was plain rather than pretty, but it
+was now illuminated and made almost beautiful by her large gray eyes
+that gazed above the houses across the street into the sky with an
+expression of the most appealing sadness and melancholy.
+
+Gather the idea, girls--all black, you know, with the preference for
+_crêpe de_--oh, _crêpe de Chine_--that's it.  All black, and that sad,
+faraway look, and the hair shining under the black veil (you have to be
+a blonde, of course), and try to look as if, although your young life
+had been blighted just as it was about to give a hop-skip-and-a-jump
+over the threshold of life, a walk in the park might do you good, and
+be sure to happen out the door at the right moment, and--oh, it'll
+fetch 'em every time.  But it's fierce, now, how cynical I am, ain't
+it?--to talk about mourning costumes this way.
+
+Mr. Donovan suddenly reinscribed Miss Conway upon the tablets of his
+consideration.  He threw away the remaining inch-and-a-quarter of his
+cigar, that would have been good for eight minutes yet, and quickly
+shifted his center of gravity to his low-cut patent leathers.
+
+"It's a fine, clear evening, Miss Conway," he said; and if the Weather
+Bureau could have heard the confident emphasis of his tones it would
+have hoisted the square white signal and nailed it to the mast.
+
+"To them that has the heart to enjoy it, it is, Mr. Donovan," said Miss
+Conway, with a sigh.
+
+Mr. Donovan in his heart cursed fair weather.  Heartless weather!  It
+should hail and blow and snow to be consonant with the mood of Miss
+Conway.
+
+"I hope none of your relatives--I hope you haven't sustained a loss?"
+ventured Mr. Donovan.
+
+"Death has claimed," said Miss Conway, hesitating--"not a relative, but
+one who--but I will not intrude my grief upon you, Mr. Donovan."
+
+"Intrude?" protested Mr. Donovan.  "Why, say, Miss Conway, I'd be
+delighted, that is, I'd be sorry--I mean I'm sure nobody could
+sympathize with you truer than I would."
+
+Miss Conway smiled a little smile.  And oh, it was sadder than her
+expression in repose.
+
+"'Laugh, and the world laughs with you; weep, and they give you the
+laugh,'" she quoted.
+
+"I have learned that, Mr. Donovan.  I have no friends or acquaintances
+in this city.  But you have been kind to me.  I appreciate it highly."
+
+He had passed her the pepper twice at the table.
+
+"It's tough to be alone in New York--that's a cinch," said Mr. Donovan.
+"But, say--whenever this little old town does loosen up and get
+friendly it goes the limit.  Say you took a little stroll in the park,
+Miss Conway--don't you think it might chase away some of your
+mullygrubs?  And if you'd allow me--"
+
+"Thanks, Mr. Donovan.  I'd be pleased to accept of your escort if you
+think the company of one whose heart is filled with gloom could be
+anyways agreeable to you."
+
+Through the open gates of the iron-railed, old, downtown park, where
+the elect once took the air, they strolled and found a quiet bench.
+
+There is this difference between the grief of youth and that of old
+age: youth's burden is lightened by as much of it as another shares;
+old age may give and give, but the sorrow remains the same.
+
+"He was my fiancé," confided Miss Conway, at the end of an hour.  "We
+were going to be married next spring.  I don't want you to think that I
+am stringing you, Mr. Donovan, but he was a real Count.  He had an
+estate and a castle in Italy.  Count Fernando Mazzini was his name.  I
+never saw the beat of him for elegance.  Papa objected, of course, and
+once we eloped, but papa overtook us, and took us back.  I thought sure
+papa and Fernando would fight a duel.  Papa has a livery business--in
+P'kipsee, you know.
+
+"Finally, papa came around all right, and said we might be married next
+spring.  Fernando showed him proofs of his title and wealth, and then
+went over to Italy to get the castle fixed up for us.  Papa's very
+proud, and when Fernando wanted to give me several thousand dollars for
+my trousseau he called him down something awful.  He wouldn't even let
+me take a ring or any presents from him.  And when Fernando sailed I
+came to the city and got a position as cashier in a candy store.
+
+"Three days ago I got a letter from Italy, forwarded from P'kipsee,
+saying that Fernando had been killed in a gondola accident.
+
+"That is why I am in mourning.  My heart, Mr. Donovan, will remain
+forever in his grave.  I guess I am poor company, Mr. Donovan, but I
+can not take any interest in no one.  I should not care to keep you
+from gaiety and your friends who can smile and entertain you.  Perhaps
+you would prefer to walk back to the house?"
+
+Now, girls, if you want to observe a young man hustle out after a pick
+and shovel, just tell him that your heart is in some other fellow's
+grave.  Young men are grave-robbers by nature.  Ask any widow.
+Something must be done to restore that missing organ to weeping girls
+in _crêpe de Chine_.  Dead men certainly got the worse of it from all
+sides.
+
+"I'm awful sorry," said Mr. Donovan gently.  "No, we won't walk back to
+the house just yet.  And don't say you haven't no friends in this city,
+Miss Conway.  I'm awful sorry, and I want you to believe I'm your
+friend, and that I'm awful sorry."
+
+"I've got his picture here in my locket," said Miss Conway, after
+wiping her eyes with her handkerchief.  "I never showed it to anybody,
+but I will to you, Mr. Donovan, because I believe you to be a true
+friend."
+
+Mr. Donovan gazed long and with much interest at the photograph in the
+locket that Miss Conway opened for him.  The face of Count Mazzini was
+one to command interest.  It was a smooth, intelligent, bright, almost
+a handsome face--the face of a strong, cheerful man who might well be a
+leader among his fellows.
+
+"I have a larger one, framed, in my room," said Miss Conway.  "When we
+return I will show you that.  They are all I have to remind me of
+Fernando.  But he ever will be present in my heart, that's a sure
+thing."
+
+A subtle task confronted Mr. Donovan--that of supplanting the
+unfortunate Count in the heart of Miss Conway.  This his admiration for
+her determined him to do.  But the magnitude of the undertaking did not
+seem to weigh upon his spirits.  The sympathetic but cheerful friend
+was the role he essayed, and he played it so successfully that the next
+half-hour found them conversing pensively across two plates of
+ice-cream, though yet there was no diminution of the sadness in Miss
+Conway's large gray eyes.
+
+Before they parted in the hall that evening she ran upstairs and
+brought down the framed photograph wrapped lovingly in a white silk
+scarf.  Mr. Donovan surveyed it with inscrutable eyes.
+
+"He gave me this the night he left for Italy," said Miss Conway.  "I
+had one for the locket made from this."
+
+"A fine-looking man," said Mr. Donovan heartily.  "How would it suit
+you, Miss Conway, to give me the pleasure of your company to Coney next
+Sunday afternoon?"
+
+A month later they announced their engagement to Mrs. Scott and the
+other boarders.  Miss Conway continued to wear black.
+
+A week after the announcement the two sat on the same bench in the
+downtown park, while the fluttering leaves of the trees made a dim
+kinetoscopic picture of them in the moonlight.  But Donovan had worn a
+look of abstracted gloom all day.  He was so silent to-night that
+love's lips could not keep back any longer the questions that love's
+heart propounded.
+
+"What's the matter, Andy, you are so solemn and grouchy to-night?"
+
+"Nothing, Maggie."
+
+"I know better.  Can't I tell?  You never acted this way before.  What
+is it?"
+
+"It's nothing much, Maggie."
+
+"Yes it is, and I want to know.  I'll bet it's some other girl you are
+thinking about.  All right.  Why don't you go and get her if you want
+her?  Take your arm away, if you please."
+
+"I'll tell you then," said Andy wisely; "but I guess you won't
+understand it exactly.  You've heard of Mike Sullivan, haven't you?
+'Big Mike' Sullivan, everybody calls him."
+
+"No, I haven't," said Maggie.  "And I don't want to, if he makes you
+act like this.  Who is he?"
+
+"He's the biggest man in New York," said Andy, almost reverently.  "He
+can do about anything he wants to with Tammany or any other old thing
+in the political line.  He's a mile high and as broad as East River.
+You say anything against Big Mike and you'll have a million men on your
+collarbone in about two seconds.  Why, he made a visit over to the old
+country awhile back, and the kings took to their holes like rabbits.
+
+"Well, Big Mike's a friend of mine.  I ain't more than deuce-high in
+the district as far as influence goes, but Mike's as good a friend to a
+little man, or a poor man, as he is to a big one.  I met him to-day on
+the Bowery, and what do you think he does?  Comes up and shakes hands.
+'Andy,' says he, 'I've been keeping cases on you.  You've been putting
+in some good licks over on your side of the street, and I'm proud of
+you.  What'll you take to drink?'  He takes a cigar, and I take a
+highball.  I told him I was going to get married in two weeks.  'Andy,'
+says he, 'send me an invitation, so I'll keep in mind of it, and I'll
+come to the wedding.'  That's what Big Mike says to me; and he always
+does what he says.
+
+"You don't understand it, Maggie, but I'd have one of my hands cut off
+to have Big Mike Sullivan at our wedding.  It would be the proudest day
+of my life.  When he goes to a man's wedding there's a guy being
+married that's made for life.  Now, that's why I've maybe been looking
+sore to-night."
+
+"Why don't you invite him, then, if he's so much to the mustard?" said
+Maggie lightly.
+
+"There's a reason why I can't," said Andy sadly.  "There's a reason why
+he mustn't be there.  Don't ask me what it is, for I can't tell you."
+
+"Oh, I don't care," said Maggie.  "It's something about politics, of
+course.  But it's no reason why you can't smile at me."
+
+"Maggie," said Andy presently, "do you think as much of me as you did
+of your--as you did of the Count Mazzini?"
+
+He waited a long time, but Maggie did not reply.  And then, suddenly
+she leaned against his shoulder and began to cry--to cry and shake with
+sobs, holding his arm tightly and wetting the _crêpe de Chine_ with
+tears.
+
+"There, there, there!" soothed Andy, putting aside his own trouble.
+"And what is it now?"
+
+"Andy," sobbed Maggie, "I've lied to you and you'll never marry me, or
+love me any more.  But I feel that I've got to tell.  Andy, there never
+was so much as the little finger of a count.  I never had a beau in my
+life.  But all the other girls had, and they talked about 'em, and that
+seemed to make the fellows like 'em more.  And, Andy, I look swell in
+black--you know I do.  So I went out to a photograph store and bought
+that picture, and had a little one made for my locket, and made up all
+that story about the Count and about his being killed, so I could wear
+black.  And nobody can love a liar and you'll shake me, Andy, and I'll
+die for shame.  Oh, there never was anybody I liked but you--and that's
+all."
+
+But instead of being pushed away she found Andy's arm folding her
+closely.  She looked up and saw his face cleared and smiling.
+
+"Could you--could you forgive me, Andy?"
+
+"Sure," said Andy.  "It's all right about that.  Back to the cemetery
+for the Count.  You've straightened everything out, Maggie.  I was in
+hopes you would before the wedding-day.  Bully girl!"
+
+"Andy," said Maggie with a somewhat shy smile, after she had been
+thoroughly assured of forgiveness, "did you believe all that story
+about the Count?"
+
+"Well, not to any large extent," said Andy, reaching for his
+cigar-case; "because it's Big Mike Sullivan's picture you've got in
+that locket of yours."
+
+
+
+
+MISS TOOKER'S WEDDING GIFT
+
+By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS
+
+Copyright 1909 by J. B. Lippincott Company.
+
+
+I
+
+Van Buren tossed his gloves impatiently on the table, removed his
+overcoat, and sat down before the fire.  He was apparently deeply
+concerned about something, for when Niki, his Japanese valet, entered
+the room and placed the whisky and soda on the little table at his
+side, Van Buren paid no more attention to him than he would to a
+vagrant sunmote that crossed his path.  Long and steadily he gazed into
+the broad fireplace, watching the dancing flames at play, pausing only
+to light his pipe, upon which he pulled fiercely.  Finally he spoke,
+leaning forward and to all intents and purposes addressing the andirons.
+
+"Confound the money!" he said impatiently.  "I wish to thunder the
+Governor had left it to some orphan asylum or to found a Chair in
+Choctaw at some New England university, instead of to me--then I might
+have made something of myself.  Here am I twenty-seven years old and
+all the fame I ever got came from leading cotillions at Newport, and my
+sole contribution to the common weal has consisted of the fines I've
+paid into the public treasury for exceeding the speed limit.  Life!
+I've seen a lot of it--haven't I, in this empty social shell I've been
+born into!"
+
+He paused for a moment and poured a stiff four fingers of whisky into a
+glass at his side.
+
+"Bah!" he shuddered as the odor of it greeted his nostrils.  "You're a
+poor kind of fuel for such an engine as I might have been if I'd been
+started on the right track.  By Jove!  Ethel is right.  What good am I?
+What have I ever done to make myself worth while or to show that I have
+any character in me that is a jot better than that of any of the rest
+of our poor stenciled, gold-plated society."
+
+He looked at the glass and made a wry face.
+
+"I'll cut _you_ out anyhow," he said, pushing the liquor away from him.
+"That's something.  Niki!" he called.
+
+The inscrutable Niki obeyed the summons on the word.
+
+"Take that stuff away and hereafter don't bring it unless I call for
+it," said Van Buren.  "Any letters?"
+
+"One," said Niki.  "A messenger brought him at eight o'clock.  I get
+it."
+
+Niki went to the escritoire and picked up the little square of blue
+envelope lying thereon and handed it to Van Buren.
+
+"Thank you, Niki.  You may go now--I can get along without you
+until--well, say noon to-morrow.  Good night."
+
+"Good night," said Niki, and withdrew noiselessly.
+
+"Humph!" ejaculated Van Buren.  "Even he is worth more to the world
+than I am.  He does something, even if it is only for me, which is more
+than I can do.  I don't seem to be able to do anything even for myself."
+
+With a sigh of discontent, Van Buren poked the fire for moment and then
+settled himself in the armchair, holding the letter before his eyes as
+he did so.
+
+"From Ethel," he said.  "Probably my death-warrant.  Oh, well--why not?
+If she won't have me, she won't, that's all.  Only one more drop of
+bitters in my cocktail.  I may as well read it anyhow.  It's like a
+cold plunge, and I hate to take it, but--here goes."
+
+He tore open the envelope and, extracting the note, read it:
+
+
+Dear Harry--I have been thinking things over since you left me this
+afternoon and I have changed my mind.  [Van Buren's eyes lighted with
+hope.]  I _do_ care for you, but I can not see much happiness ahead for
+either of us unless one or the other of us changes radically.  It may
+be my fault, but I can not forget that if I married a man I should want
+always to be proud of him, and ambitious for his success in the world.
+If I were not ambitious, I could be proud of you just as you are, for I
+know you for the fine fellow that you are.  While you do none of the
+things that I should love to have my future husband do, you at least do
+none of those other things that men make a practise of, and that mean
+so much misery for their womenkind, whether they show it or not.  But,
+dear Harry, why can you not make yourself more of a man than you are?
+Why be content with just the splendid foundation, and let it lie,
+gradually disintegrating because you have failed to rear upon it some
+kind of a superstructure that would be in keeping with what rests
+beneath?  You can--I know you can--and that is why I have decided to
+withdraw what appeared to be my final answer of this afternoon, and, if
+you want it, to give you another chance.
+
+
+"_If_ I want it!" ejaculated Van Buren.  "Lord knows how I want it!"
+
+
+Come to me at the end of a year and show me the record of something
+accomplished, that lifts you out this awful social rut we have all
+managed to get into, and my "no" of this afternoon may be turned into a
+"yes," and the misery of my heart be turned to joy.  Of course you will
+say that it is all very easy for me to write this, and to tell you to
+go out and do something, but that the hard thing would be to tell you
+what to go out and do--and you will be perfectly right.  General advice
+is the easiest thing in the world, but the specific, constructive
+suggestion is very different.  So I will give you the specific
+suggestion, and it is this: Why do you not write a novel?  You used in
+your days at Harvard to write clever skits for the "Lampoon," and one
+or two of your little stories in the "Advocate" showed that you at
+least know how to put words and sentences together in a pleasing way,
+even if the themes of your stories were slight and the plots not very
+intricate.  Do this, Harry.  Surely with your experience in life you
+can think of something to write about.  Apply yourself to this work
+during the coming year, and when your book is published and has proven
+a success, come to me again, and maybe I shall have some good news to
+tell you.
+
+It may be, dear Harry, that you will not think it worth while.  For
+myself, I hardly think the prize is worth the winning, but you seem to
+feel differently about that, if I may judge from what you said this
+afternoon, and you did seem to mean it all, every word of it, you poor
+boy.
+
+We shall meet, of course, as frequently as ever, but until the year is
+up, and that a year of achievement, you must not speak of the matter
+again, and must regard me as I shall hope in any event always to remain,
+
+Your devoted friend,
+  ETHEL TOOKER.
+
+
+Van Buren laughed nervously, as he finished the letter, and again lit
+his pipe, which had gone out while he read.
+
+"Write a novel, eh?" he muttered with a grin.  "A nice, easy task that.
+A hundred and fifty thousand words, all meaning something.  Ah me!  Why
+the dickens wasn't I born in an age when knighthood was in flower and
+my Lady Fayre set Sir Hubert some easy task like putting on a tin suit
+and going out on the highway and swatting another potted Sir Bedivere
+on the head with an antique ax?  The Quest of the Golden Fleece was an
+easy stunt alongside of writing a novel these times, and I fear I'm
+more of a Jason than a Henry James!"
+
+He turned to his desk, and the next five minutes were devoted to the
+writing of an acknowledgment of Miss Tooker's letter.
+
+
+I thank you for your suggestion [he wrote], and I truly think it will
+bear thinking over.  Any suggestion that makes for the realization of
+my fondest hopes will bear thinking over, and I am going to do what I
+can.  I wish you had set me an easier task, however, like getting
+myself appointed Ambassador to England, or Excise Commissioner, for
+honestly I do not feel the call of the pen.  Nevertheless, my dearest
+Ethel, just to prove to you how honestly devoted to you I am, I shall
+to-morrow lay in a stock of pads, a brand new pen, and a new Roosevelt
+Dictionary to guide me into the short cut to success via the Reformed
+Spelling Route.  I have already got my leading characters--my heroine
+and my hero.  She is the sweetest, fairest, dearest girl in the world,
+and is to be named Ethel.  The hero is to be a miserable, down-and-out
+young cub of a millionaire who, having been brought up in a hot-house
+atmosphere, never had a chance when exposed to the chilling blasts of
+the world.  She, of course, will redeem poor Harry--that is to be my
+hero's name--from the pitfalls of bridge, Newport, and the demon Rum.
+And, of course, she will marry him in the end.
+
+Ever your devoted
+  HARRY.
+
+P. S.  As expressive of my real feelings, my story will be written in
+blue ink.
+
+
+II
+
+Late one evening, six months later, Van Buren rose wearily from his
+desk, but with a light of triumph in his eye.
+
+"There!" he said.  "That is done.  'The City of Credit' is at last _un
+fait accompli_.  One hundred and thirty-seven thousand five hundred and
+sixty-seven words, and all about Newport, with a bit of the life of its
+thriving suburbs, New York and Boston, thrown in to relieve the
+sordidness of it all."
+
+He gazed affectionately at the pile of manuscript before him.
+
+"It hasn't been half bad, after all," he said.  "The first ten thousand
+words came like water from a fire hose, the second ten thousand were
+pure dentistry, tooth-pulling extraordinary, and the rest of it--well,
+it is queer how when you get interested in shoveling coal how easy it
+all seems.  And now for the hardest end of the job.  To find a
+publisher who is weak-minded enough to print it."
+
+This indeed proved much the hardest part of Van Buren's work, for the
+reluctance of the large publishing houses of New York and Boston to
+place their imprint upon the title-page of "The City of Credit" became
+painfully evident to the youthful author.  The manuscript came back to
+Van Buren with a frequency that was more than ominous.
+
+"I think," he remarked ruefully to himself upon the occasion of its
+sixth rejection, "that I have discovered the principle of perpetual
+motion.  If there were only enough publishers in the world to last
+through all eternity, I could keep this manuscript going forever."
+
+Days passed and with no glimmer of hope, until one morning at a time
+when "The City of Credit" was about due for its thirteenth reappearance
+on his desk Van Buren found in its stead a letter from Hutchins &
+Waterbury, of Boston, apprising him of the fact that his novel had been
+read and was so well liked that "our Mr. Waterbury will be pleased to
+have Mr. Van Buren call to discuss a possible arrangement under which
+the firm would be willing to undertake its publication."
+
+"Good Lord!" cried Van Buren as he read the letter over for the third
+time, even then barely crediting the possibilities of success that now
+loomed before him.  "And Boston people, too!  Will I call!  Niki, pack
+my suit-case at once, and engage a seat for me on the Knickerbocker
+Limited."
+
+The following morning an interview between "our Mr. Waterbury" and Van
+Buren took place in the firm's private office on Tremont Street,
+Boston.  It appeared that while the readers of the firm of Hutchins &
+Waterbury had unanimously condemned the book, Mr. Waterbury, himself,
+having read it, rather thought it might have a living chance.
+
+"Some portions of your narrative are brilliant, and some of them are
+otherwise, Mr. Van Buren," said Mr. Waterbury frankly.  "But
+considering the authorship of the book and that it is a description of
+Newport life by one who is a part of its innermost circle, I am
+inclined to think it will prove interesting to the public.  Your
+picture of the social wheels within wheels is so intimate, and I judge
+so accurate, that it would attract attention."
+
+"I am glad you think so," said Van Buren, with a dry throat--the idea
+that his book might be published after all was really overpowering.
+
+"On the other hand, the judgment of our readers is so unanimously
+adverse that Mr. Hutchins and I feel the need of proceeding cautiously.
+Now, what would you say to our publishing the book on--ah--on your
+account, as it were?"
+
+"You want me to--" began Van Buren.
+
+"To pay for the plates and advertising," said Mr. Waterbury.  "We will
+stand for the paper and the binding, and will act as your agents in the
+distribution of the book, accounting to you for every copy printed and
+sold."
+
+"Is--is that quite _en regle_?" asked Van Buren dubiously.
+
+"It is quite customary," replied Mr. Waterbury.  "In fact, ninety per
+cent of our business is conducted upon that basis."
+
+"I see," said Van Buren.
+
+"You hand us your check for twenty-five hundred dollars to cover the
+expenses I have specified," continued the astute publisher, "and we
+will publish your book, allowing you a royalty of fifty per cent on
+every copy sold."
+
+"I suppose the first edition would be--" said Van Buren hesitatingly.
+
+"Five hundred copies," said Waterbury.  "The smaller your first
+edition, the sooner you are likely to go into a second, and, as you
+know, it is a great advantage for a book to go into a second edition
+quickly, if only for advertising purposes.  Think it over, and let me
+know this afternoon if you can.  I have to leave for Chicago to-night,
+and if we are to have 'The City of Credit' ready for the autumn trade,
+we should begin work on it right away."
+
+"I understand," said Van Buren.  "Well--I--I guess it's all right.
+It's only the principle of the thing--but if, as you say, it is quite
+customary--why, yes.  I'll give you my check now.  Do you want it
+certified?"
+
+"That will not be at all necessary, Mr. Van Buren," said Waterbury
+magnanimously.  "We are quite aware that your own signature to a check
+is a sufficient certification."
+
+The afternoon train for Newport carried Van Buren back to the social
+capital with a contract in his pocket, signed by Messrs. Hutchins &
+Waterbury, assuring the early publication of "The City of Credit," but
+in view of certain of its financial stipulations, jubilant as he was
+over the success of his first real step toward fame, Van Buren did not
+show it to Miss Tooker, as he might have done had it contained no
+reference to a check on the Tenth National Bank of New York calling for
+the payment of two thousand five hundred dollars to the Boston firm of
+publishers.
+
+
+III
+
+In September "The City of Credit" was published, and widely advertised
+by Messrs. Hutchins & Waterbury, and Van Buren took particular pains to
+secure the first copy from the press and to send it by messenger with a
+suitable inscription and a note to Miss Tooker.
+
+"I send you my book," he wrote, "not because I think it is worth
+reading, but for the double purpose of showing you that I have tried my
+best to fulfil your wishes, and to assure the work of at least the
+circulation of one copy.  It has all of my heart in it."
+
+For one reason or another, doubtless because there were quite five
+hundred other novels of a similar character put forth about the same
+time, by the end of October the world had not yet been consumed by any
+conflagration of Van Buren's lighting.
+
+"The book hangs fire," said Mr. Waterbury when Van Buren called upon
+him at his Boston office to inquire how things were going.  "We printed
+five hundred copies, and this morning's report shows two hundred and
+thirty still on hand.  A hundred and sixty were sent for review."
+
+"I wish they hadn't been," said Van Buren, with a rueful smile.  "They
+have provided just one hundred and sixty separate pieces of fuel for
+the critics to roast me with.  Have there been any favorable reviews of
+the book?"
+
+"None that I have seen--but don't you worry about that," replied Mr.
+Waterbury comfortingly.  "It's the counting-room, not the critics, that
+tell the story.  Something may happen yet to pull us out."
+
+"What, for instance?" asked Van Buren
+
+"Oh, I don't know," said Waterbury.  "You might do something
+sensational and get it in the papers.  That would help.  It's up to
+you, Mr. Van Buren."
+
+"I guess I'm all in," said Van Buren to himself as he walked down
+Tremont Street.  "Up to me to do something--by Jove!" he interrupted
+himself abruptly.  He had suddenly espied a copy of "The City of
+Credit" in a shop window.  "Up to me, is it?  Well, I think I shall
+rise to the occasion and not by doing anything sensational either."
+
+He entered the shop.
+
+"I want six copies of 'The City of Credit,'" he said quietly to the
+salesman.  "It's a first-class story.  Much of a demand for it?"
+
+"No," said the salesman.  "We have only the window copy, and we've had
+that over a month.  I can get them for you, however."
+
+"All right," said Van Buren.  "Just send them to Charles H. Harney, The
+Helicon Club, New York.  I'll pay for them now."
+
+Van Buren paid his bill, and, returning to the street, hailed a hansom.
+
+"Take me to some good book-shop," he said to the cabby.
+
+Instanter he was whirled around into Winter Street, where stands one of
+Boston's most famous literary distributing centers.
+
+"Have you 'The City of Credit'?" he asked the salesman.
+
+"I think we have a copy in stock," replied the latter.  "If we haven't,
+we can get it for you."
+
+"Do so, please," said Van Buren.  "I want a dozen copies--send them by
+express to Charles H. Harney, The Helicon Club, New York.  How much?"
+
+"It's a dollar and a half book, I think," said the clerk.  "The
+discount will make it $1.20--a dozen, did you say?  Twenty-five cents
+expressage--that will make it $14.65."
+
+Van Buren paid up without a whimper.  Once in the hansom again, he
+called up through the little hole in the top.
+
+"Isn't there any other book-shop in town where I can get what I want?"
+he demanded.
+
+"There's a dozen of 'em," replied the cabby.
+
+"Then go to them all," said Van Buren.
+
+That night when Van Buren started for New York he had purchased a
+hundred and fifty copies of "The City of Credit," and had ordered them
+all to be addressed to the clerk at the Helicon Club, with whom, upon
+his arrival in town, he arranged for their immediate reshipment to the
+Harrison Safety Deposit Storage Company on Forty-second Street.
+
+"I'm going to have my happiness, if I have to buy it," Van Buren
+muttered doggedly, as he crept into bed shortly after midnight.  And
+then, tossing sleeplessly in his bed and at last rejoicing in the
+possession of his late father's millions to back him in his enterprise,
+he laid the foundations of a plan comparable only to that of the Wheat
+King who corners the market, or the man of Cotton who loads himself up
+with more bales of that useful commodity than all the fertile acres of
+the South could raise in seven seasons.  Orders were despatched by wire
+and by mail to all the booksellers in the land whose names and
+addresses Van Buren could get hold of.  Department stores were put
+under contribution and their stock commandeered, and one of the biggest
+booms in the whole history of literature set in.
+
+"The City of Credit" went into its second, fifth, twentieth, fiftieth
+large edition.  Hutchins & Waterbury wrote Van Buren stating that a
+sudden turn in the market had made his book one of the six best sellers
+not only of this century but of all centuries.  Their presses were
+seething to the point of white heat with the copies of "The City of
+Credit" needed to supply the demand; their binders were working day and
+night with a double force, and their shipping department was pretty
+nearly swamped with the strain put upon it.  "Your royalty check on
+January 1st will be the fattest in the land," wrote Waterbury in a
+moment of enthusiasm.  "We are thinking of sending our staff of readers
+to the lunatic asylum and getting an entirely new set.  An order for
+four thousand has come in from Chicago this morning.  St. Louis wants
+fifteen hundred, and pretty nearly every other able-bodied town in the
+country is asking for from one to one hundred and fifty."  By Christmas
+time, if the publishers' announcements were to be believed, "The City
+of Credit" had attained to the enormous sale of three hundred and fifty
+thousand, and Van Buren was in receipt of a letter from a literary
+periodical asking for his photograph for publication in its February
+issue.  This brought him a realization of the fact that he might now
+fairly claim to be considered a literary success.  At any rate, he felt
+that he had now a right to approach Miss Tooker with a fair prospect of
+receiving from her a favorable answer to the question which she had a
+year before left an open one.
+
+And events showed that his feeling was justified, for two days later he
+enjoyed the blissful sensation of finding himself the accepted lover of
+the woman he had tried so hard to please.
+
+"Is it to be--yes?" he whispered, as they sat together in the
+conservatory of her father's city house.
+
+"It has--always been--yes," she replied softly, and then what happened
+is not for your eyes or mine.  Suffice it to say that Van Buren moved
+immediately from sordid old New York to become a dweller in the higher
+altitudes of Elysium.
+
+Incidentally the boom in "The City of Credit" stopped almost as
+suddenly as it had begun.  There was nobody apparently who felt called
+upon to throw in the necessary number of dollars to sustain an already
+over-stimulated market, which puzzled Messrs. Hutchins & Waterbury
+exceedingly.  They had hoped to live for the balance of their days upon
+the profits of their World's Best Seller.
+
+
+IV
+
+As the spring approached and the day set for Miss Tooker's wedding to
+Van Buren came nearer, the latter found himself daily becoming more and
+more a prey to conscience.  There was a decidedly large fly in the
+amber of his happiness, for as he viewed the part he had played in the
+forced success of "The City of Credit" he began to see it in its true
+light.  The first of March brought him his royalty check from Hutchins
+& Waterbury, and it was, as had been predicted, gratifyingly large, and
+reduced materially what he had called his "campaign expenses."  In the
+same mail, however, was a bill from the Storage Company, in one of
+whose spacious chambers there reposed more copies of his novel than he
+liked to think of--over 250,000--the actual sales had been 260,000 in
+spite of the published announcements of a higher figure.  The firm had
+thirty or forty thousand on hand, printed in a moment of confident
+enthusiasm when the flurry was at its height.  Both communications
+brought before Van Buren's mind's eye all too vividly the specter of
+his duplicity, and he was too much of a man of conscience to be able to
+put it lightly aside.  He tried to console himself with the idea that
+all is fair in love and war, but he could not, and his remorse caused
+him many a sleepless night.  Finally--it was on the eve of the posting
+of the wedding invitations--scruple overcame him, and he resolved that
+he could not honestly lead his bride to the altar with such a record of
+deceit upon his escutcheon, especially in view of the fact that it was
+through this deceit that his happiness had been won.
+
+"It is better to lose her before the ceremony than after it," he told
+himself, and, bitter though the confidence might be, he made up his
+mind to tell Miss Tooker everything.  "Only, I must break it gently,"
+he observed.
+
+With this difficult errand in mind, he called upon his fiancée, and,
+after the usual greeting, he started in on his confession.  He had
+hardly begun it, however, when his courage failed him, and with the
+oozing of that his words failed him also.  He did have the courage,
+however, to seek to reveal the exact situation in another way.
+
+"Ethel dear," he said, awkwardly fumbling his gloves, "I want to show
+you something.  I have a--a little surprise for you."
+
+The girl eyed him narrowly.
+
+"For me?" she said.
+
+"Yes," he answered.  "The fact is, it's--it's a sort of wedding present
+I have for you, and I think you ought to see it before--well, _now_.
+Will you go?"
+
+Miss Tooker was interested at once, and, taking a hansom, they were
+driven to the Harrison Storage Warehouse on Forty-second Street Arrived
+there, Van Buren led her to the elevator and thence up to the small
+room in which lay the corroding and tell-tale packages--an enormous
+bulk--that were slowly but surely eating up his happiness.
+
+"Why, Harry!" she cried as she gazed in bewilderment at the huge pile
+of unopened bundles.  "Are these all for me?"
+
+"Yes," gulped Van Buren, his face flaming.
+
+"But--what do they contain?" she asked.
+
+"Two hundred and fifty thousand copies of my--my book--'The City of
+Credit,'" said Van Buren, his eyes cast down.
+
+"You mean that you--" she began.
+
+"Yes, it's exactly that, Ethel.  I--I bought 'em all to--well, to boom
+the sales and to--make a name for myself in the world," he said
+sheepishly, "or rather for you--but I suppose now that you know---"
+
+"Then all this tremendous sale was arranged between you and your
+publishers to deceive me?" she asked.
+
+"Not at all," protested the unhappy Van Buren.  "On the contrary, I did
+it all myself.  Hutchins & Waterbury don't know any more about it than
+you did an hour ago.  No one knows--except you and I."
+
+Van Buren paused.
+
+"I could not let you marry me without knowing what I had done," he
+said.  "It would not be fair to--to our future."
+
+"Tell me all about it," she said quietly, and Van Buren made his
+confession complete.  He told her of his interview with Waterbury--how
+the latter had told him his book had fallen flat; how it was "up to
+him" to do something; how a sight of a single copy of "The City of
+Credit" in the Tremont Street shop window had tempted him first into a
+retail fall which had grown ultimately into a wholesale "crime"--as he
+put it.  He did not spare himself in the least degree, humiliating as
+the narration of his story was to him.
+
+"I suppose it is all up with me now," he said ruefully, when he had
+finished.
+
+"I don't know," said Ethel quietly.  "I don't know, Harry.  Perhaps.
+Take me home, please.  I want to show you something."
+
+The drive back to the Tooker mansion was taken in silence.  Van Buren
+despised himself too strongly to be able to speak, and Miss Tooker had
+fallen into a deep reverie which the poor fellow at her side feared
+meant irrevocable ruin to his hopes.
+
+"Come in," said Miss Tooker gravely, as the cab drew up at the house.
+"I want to take you up into our attic storeroom, and then ask you a
+plain question, Harry, and then I want you to answer that question
+simply and truthfully."
+
+Marveling much, Van Buren permitted himself to be led to the topmost
+floor of Miss Tooker's house.
+
+"Look in there," said she, opening the door of the storeroom.  "Do you
+see those packages?"
+
+"Yes," he said.  "They look very much like mine, only they're fewer."
+
+"Do you know what they contain?" she asked.
+
+"Books?" queried Van Buren, entering the room and tapping one of the
+bundles.
+
+"Yes--yours--your books--five thousand three hundred and ten copies of
+'The City of Credit,' Harry," she said, with a rueful smile.
+
+"You--" he ejaculated hoarsely.
+
+"Yes, I bought them all.  Some in Newport, some in New York, some at
+Lenox--oh, everywhere!  Now, tell me this," she interrupted.  "Do you
+suppose that I would condemn you for doing on a large scale what I have
+been doing on a smaller scale ever since last November?"
+
+A ray of hope dawned in Van Buren's eyes.
+
+"Ethel!" he cried, seising her by the hand.  "You bought all those--for
+me?"
+
+"I certainly did, Harry," she said quietly.  "With my pin money, and my
+bridge money and all the other kinds of money that I could wheedle out
+of my dear old daddy.  But answer me.  Have I the right to sit in
+judgment on you--"
+
+"Not by a long shot!" cried Van Buren.  "It would be an act of the most
+consummate hypocrisy."
+
+"That is the way I look at it, dear," she whispered, and then--well,
+all I have to say is that I don't believe anything like what happened
+at that precise moment ever happened in an attic storeroom before.
+
+And the wedding invitations were mailed that very evening.
+
+
+
+
+THE FABLE OF THE TWO MANDOLIN PLAYERS AND THE WILLING PERFORMER
+
+By GEORGE ADE
+
+Copyright 1899 by Herbert S. Stone & Co.
+
+
+A very attractive Débutante knew two Young Men, who called on her every
+Thursday Evening and brought their Mandolins along.  They were
+Conventional Young Men, of the Kind that you see wearing Spring
+Overcoats in the Clothing Advertisements.  One was named Fred, and the
+other was Eustace.
+
+The Mothers of the Neighborhood often remarked "What Perfect Manners
+Fred and Eustace have!"  Merely as an aside it may be added that Fred
+and Eustace were more Popular with the Mothers than they were with the
+Younger Set, although no one could say a Word against either of them.
+Only it was rumored in Keen Society that they didn't Belong.  The Fact
+that they went Calling in a Crowd, and took their Mandolins along, may
+give the Acute Reader some Idea of the Life that Fred and Eustace held
+out to the Young Women of their Acquaintance.
+
+The Débutante's name was Myrtle.  Her Parents were very Watchful, and
+did not encourage her to receive Callers, except such as were known to
+be Exemplary Young Men.  Fred and Eustace were a few of those who
+escaped the Black List.  Myrtle always appeared to be glad to see them,
+and they regarded her as a Darned Swell Girl.
+
+Fred's Cousin came from St. Paul on a Visit; and one Day, in the
+Street, he saw Myrtle, and noticed that Fred tipped his Hat, and gave
+her a Stage Smile.
+
+"Oh, Queen of Sheba!" exclaimed the Cousin from St. Paul, whose name
+was Gus, as he stood stock still and watched Myrtle's Reversible Plaid
+disappear around a Corner.  "She's a Bird.  Do you know her well?"
+
+"I know her Quite Well," replied Fred, coldly.  "She is a Charming
+Girl."
+
+"She is all of that.  You're a great Describer.  And now what Night are
+you going to take me around to Call on her?"
+
+Fred very naturally Hemmed and Hawed.  It must be remembered that
+Myrtle was a member of an Excellent Family, and had been schooled in
+the Proprieties, and it was not to be supposed that she would crave the
+Society of slangy old Gus, who had an abounding Nerve, and furthermore
+was as Fresh as the Mountain Air.
+
+He was the Kind of Fellow who would see a Girl twice, and then, upon
+meeting her the Third Time, he would go up and straighten her Cravat
+for her, and call her by her First Name.
+
+Put him into a Strange Company--en route to a Picnic--and by the time
+the Baskets were unpacked he would have a Blonde all to himself, and
+she would have traded her Fan for his College Pin.
+
+If a Fair-Looker on the Street happened to glance at him Hard he would
+run up and seize her by the Hand, and convince her that they had Met.
+And he always Got Away with it, too.
+
+In a Department Store, while awaiting for the Cash Boy to come back
+with the Change, he would find out the Girl's Name, her Favorite
+Flower, and where a Letter would reach her.
+
+Upon entering a Parlor Car at St. Paul he would select a Chair next to
+the Most Promising One in Sight, and ask her if she cared to have the
+Shade lowered.
+
+Before the Train cleared the Yards he would have the Porter bringing a
+Foot-Stool for the Lady.
+
+At Hastings he would be asking her if she wanted Something to Read.
+
+At Red Wing he would be telling her that she resembled Maxine Elliott,
+and showing her his Watch, left to him by his Grandfather, a Prominent
+Virginian.
+
+At La Crosse he would be reading the Menu Card to her, and telling her
+how different it is when you have Some One to join you in a Bite.
+
+At Milwaukee he would go out and buy a Bouquet for her, and when they
+rode into Chicago they would be looking but of the same Window, and he
+would be arranging for her Baggage with the Transfer Man.  After that
+they would be Old Friends.
+
+Now, Fred and Eustace had been at School with Gus, and they had seen
+his Work, and they were not disposed to Introduce him into One of the
+most Exclusive Homes in the City.
+
+They had known Myrtle for many Years; but they did not dare to Address
+her by her First Name, and they were Positive that if Gus attempted any
+of his usual Tactics with her she would be Offended; and, naturally
+enough, they would be Blamed for bringing him to the House.
+
+But Gus insisted.  He said he had seen Myrtle, and she Suited him from
+the Ground up, and he proposed to have Friendly Doings with her.  At
+last they told him they would take him if he promised to Behave.  Fred
+warned him that Myrtle would frown down any Attempt to be Familiar on
+Short Acquaintance, and Eustace said that as long as he had known
+Myrtle he had never Presumed to be Free and Forward with her.  He had
+simply played the Mandolin.  That was as Far Along as he had ever got.
+
+Gus told them not to Worry about him.  All he asked was a Start.  He
+said he was a Willing Performer, but as yet he never had been
+Disqualified for Crowding.
+
+Fred and Eustace took this to mean that he would not Overplay his
+Attentions, so they escorted him to the House.
+
+As soon as he had been Presented, Gus showed her where to sit on the
+Sofa, then he placed himself about Six Inches away and began to Buzz,
+looking her straight in the Eye.  He said that when he first saw her he
+Mistook her for Miss Prentice, who was said to be the Most Beautiful
+Girl in St. Paul, only, when he came closer, he saw that it couldn't be
+Miss Prentice, because Miss Prentice didn't have such Lovely Hair.
+Then he asked her the Month of her Birth and told her Fortune, thereby
+coming nearer to Holding her Hand within Eight Minutes than Eustace had
+come in a Lifetime.
+
+"Play something, Boys," he Ordered, just as if he had paid them Money
+to come along and make Music for him.
+
+They unlimbered their Mandolins and began to play a Sousa March.  He
+asked Myrtle if she had seen the New Moon.  She replied that she had
+not, so they went Outside.
+
+When Fred and Eustace finished the first Piece, Gus appeared at the
+open Window, and asked them to play "The Georgia Camp-Meeting," which
+had always been one of his Favorites.
+
+So they played that, and when they had Concluded there came a Voice
+from the Outer Darkness, and it was the Voice of Myrtle.  She said:
+"I'll tell you what to Play; play the Intermezzo."
+
+Fred and Eustace exchanged Glances.  They began to Perceive that they
+had been backed into a Siding.  With a few Potted Palms in front of
+them, and two Cards from the Union, they would have been just the same
+as a Hired Orchestra.
+
+But they played the Intermezzo and felt Peevish.  Then they went to the
+Window and looked out.  Gus and Myrtle were sitting in the Hammock,
+which had quite a Pitch toward the Center.  Gus had braced himself by
+Holding to the back of the Hammock.  He did not have his Arm around
+Myrtle, but he had it Extended in a Line parallel with her Back.  What
+he had done wouldn't Justify a Girl in saying, "Sir!" but it started a
+Real Scandal with Fred and Eustace.  They saw that the Only Way to Get
+Even with her was to go Home without saying "Good Night."  So they
+slipped out the Side Door, shivering with Indignation.
+
+After that, for several Weeks, Gus kept Myrtle so Busy that she had no
+Time to think of considering other Candidates.  He sent Books to her
+Mother, and allowed the Old Gentleman to take Chips away from him at
+Poker.
+
+They were Married in the Autumn, and Father-in-Law took Gus into the
+Firm, saying that he had needed a good Pusher for a Long Time.
+
+At the Wedding the two Mandolin Players were permitted to act as Ushers.
+
+MORAL: _To get a fair Trial of Speed use a Pace-Maker_.
+
+
+
+
+THE FABLE OF THE PREACHER WHO FLEW HIS KITE, BUT NOT BECAUSE HE WISHED
+TO DO SO
+
+By GEORGE ADE
+
+Copyright 1899 by Herbert S. Stone & Co.
+
+
+A certain Preacher became wise to the Fact that he was not making a Hit
+with his Congregation.  The Parishioners did not seem inclined to seek
+him out after Services and tell him he was a Pansy.  He suspected that
+they were Rapping him on the Quiet.  The Preacher knew there must be
+something wrong with his Talk.  He had been trying to Expound in a
+clear and straightforward Manner, omitting Foreign Quotations, setting
+up for illustration of his Points such Historical Characters as were
+familiar to his Hearers, putting the stubby Old English words ahead of
+the Latin, and rather flying low along the Intellectual Plane of the
+Aggregation that chipped in to pay his Salary.  But the Pew-Holders
+were not tickled.  They could Understand everything he said, and they
+began to think he was Common.
+
+So he studied the Situation and decided that if he wanted to Win them
+and make everybody believe he was a Nobby and Boss Minister he would
+have to hand out a little Guff.  He fixed it up Good and Plenty.
+
+On the following Sunday Morning he got up in the Lookout and read a
+Text that didn't mean anything, read from either Direction, and then he
+sized up his Flock with a Dreamy Eye and said: "We can not more
+adequately voice the Poetry and Mysticism of our Text than in those
+familiar Lines of the great Icelandic Poet, Ikon Navrojk:
+
+  "To hold is not to have--
+  Under the seared Firmament,
+  Where Chaos sweeps, and Vast Futurity
+  Sneers at these puny Aspirations--
+  There is the full Reprisal."
+
+
+When the Preacher concluded this Extract from the Well-Known Icelandic
+Poet he paused and looked downward, breathing heavily through his Nose,
+like Camille in the Third Act.
+
+A Stout Woman in the Front Row put on her Eye-Glasses and leaned
+forward so as not to miss Anything.  A Venerable Harness Dealer over at
+the Right nodded his Head solemnly.  He seemed to recognize the
+Quotation.  Members of the Congregation glanced at one another as if to
+say: "This is certainly Hot Stuff!"
+
+The Preacher wiped his Brow and said he had no Doubt that every one
+within the Sound of his Voice remembered what Quarolius had said,
+following the same Line of Thought.  It was Quarolius who disputed the
+Contention of the great Persian Theologian Ramtazuk, that the Soul in
+its reaching out after the Unknowable was guided by the Spiritual
+Genesis of Motive rather than by mere Impulse of Mentality.  The
+Preacher didn't know what all This meant, and he didn't care, but you
+can rest easy that the Pew-Holders were On in a minute.  He talked it
+off in just the Way that Cyrano talks when he gets Roxane so Dizzy that
+she nearly falls off the Piazza.
+
+The Parishioners bit their Lower Lips and hungered for more First-Class
+Language.  They had paid their Money for Tall Talk and were prepared to
+solve any and all styles of Delivery.  They held on to the Cushions and
+seemed to be having a Nice Time.
+
+The Preacher quoted copiously from the Great Poet Amebius.  He recited
+18 lines of Greek and then said: "How true this is!"  And not a
+Parishioner batted an Eye.
+
+It was Amebius whose Immortal Lines he recited in order to prove the
+Extreme Error of the Position assumed in the Controversy by the Famous
+Italian, Polenta.
+
+He had them Going, and there wasn't a Thing to it.  When he would get
+tired of faking Philosophy he would quote from a Celebrated Poet of
+Ecuador or Tasmania or some other Seaport Town.  Compared with this
+Verse, all of which was of the same School as the Icelandic
+Masterpiece, the most obscure and clouded Passage in Robert Browning
+was like a Plate-Glass Front in a State Street Candy Store just after
+the Colored Boy gets through using the Chamois.
+
+After that he became Eloquent, and began to get rid of long Boston
+Words that hadn't been used before that Season.  He grabbed a
+rhetorical Roman Candle in each Hand and you couldn't see him for the
+Sparks.
+
+After which he sank his Voice to a Whisper and talked about the Birds
+and the Flowers.  Then, although there was no Cue for him to Weep, he
+shed a few real Tears.  And there wasn't a dry Glove in the church.
+
+After he sat down he could tell by the Scared Look of the People in
+Front that he had made a Ten-Strike.
+
+Did they give him the Joyous Palm that Day?  Sure!
+
+The Stout Lady could not control her Feelings when she told how much
+the Sermon had helped her.  The venerable Harness Dealer said he wished
+to indorse the Able and Scholarly Criticism of Polenta.
+
+In fact, every one said the Sermon was Superfine and Dandy.  The only
+thing that worried the Congregation was the Fear that if it wished to
+retain such a Whale it might have to boost his Salary.
+
+In the Meantime the Preacher waited for some one to come and ask about
+Polenta, Amebius, Ramtazuk, Quarolius and the great Icelandic Poet,
+Navrojk.  But no one had the Face to step up and confess his Ignorance
+of these Celebrities.  The Pew-Holders didn't even admit among
+themselves that the Preacher had rung in some New Ones.  They stood
+Pat, and merely said it was an Elegant Sermon.
+
+Perceiving that they would stand for Anything, the Preacher knew what
+to do after that.
+
+MORAL: _Give the People what they Think they want_.
+
+
+
+
+THE SHADOWS ON THE WALL
+
+By MARY E. WILKINS FREEMAN
+
+Copyright 1903 by Doubleday, Page & Co.
+
+
+"Henry had words with Edward in the study the night before Edward
+died," said Caroline Glynn.  She was elderly, tall, and harshly thin,
+with a hard colourlessness of face.  She spoke not with acrimony, but
+with grave severity.  Rebecca Ann Glynn, younger, stouter and rosy of
+face between her crinkling puffs of gray hair, gasped, by way of
+assent.  She sat in a wide flounce of black silk in the corner of the
+sofa, and rolled terrified eyes from her sister Caroline to her sister
+Mrs. Stephen Brigham, who had been Emma Glynn, the one beauty of the
+family.  She was beautiful still, with a large, splendid, full-blown
+beauty; she filled a great rocking-chair with her superb bulk of
+femininity, and swayed gently back and forth, her black silks
+whispering and her black frills fluttering.  Even the shock of death
+(for her brother Edward lay dead in the house,) could not disturb her
+outward serenity of demeanour.  She was grieved over the loss of her
+brother: he had been the youngest, and she had been fond of him, but
+never had Emma Brigham lost sight of her own importance amidst the
+waters of tribulation.  She was always awake to the consciousness of
+her own stability in the midst of vicissitudes and the splendour of her
+permanent bearing.
+
+But even her expression of masterly placidity changed before her sister
+Caroline's announcement and her sister Rebecca Ann's gasp of terror and
+distress in response.
+
+"I think Henry might have controlled his temper, when poor Edward was
+so near his end," said she with an asperity which disturbed slightly
+the roseate curves of her beautiful mouth.
+
+"Of course he did not _know_," murmured Rebecca Ann in a faint tone
+strangely out of keeping with her appearance.
+
+One involuntarily looked again to be sure that such a feeble pipe came
+from that full-swelling chest.
+
+"Of course he did not know it," said Caroline quickly.  She turned on
+her sister with a strange sharp look of suspicion.  "How could he have
+known it?" said she.  Then she shrank as if from the other's possible
+answer.  "Of course you and I both know he could not," said she
+conclusively, but her pale face was paler than it had been before.
+
+Rebecca gasped again.  The married sister, Mrs. Emma Brigham, was now
+sitting up straight in her chair; she had ceased rocking, and was
+eyeing them both intently with a sudden accentuation of family likeness
+in her face.  Given one common intensity of emotion and similar lines
+showed forth, and the three sisters of one race were evident.
+
+"What do you mean?" said she impartially to them both.  Then she, too,
+seemed to shrink before a possible answer.  She even laughed an evasive
+sort of laugh.  "I guess you don't mean anything," said she, but her
+face wore still the expression of shrinking horror.
+
+"Nobody means anything," said Caroline firmly.  She rose and crossed
+the room toward the door with grim decisiveness.
+
+"Where are you going?" asked Mrs. Brigham.
+
+"I have something to see to," replied Caroline, and the others at once
+knew by her tone that she had some solemn and sad duty to perform in
+the chamber of death.
+
+"Oh," said Mrs. Brigham.
+
+After the door had closed behind Caroline, she turned to Rebecca.
+
+"Did Henry have many words with him?" she asked.
+
+"They were talking very loud," replied Rebecca evasively, yet with an
+answering gleam of ready response to the other's curiosity in the quick
+lift of her soft blue eyes.
+
+Mrs. Brigham looked at her.  She had not resumed rocking.  She still
+sat up straight with a slight knit of intensity on her fair forehead,
+between the pretty rippling curves of her auburn hair.
+
+"Did you--hear anything?" she asked in a low voice with a glance toward
+the door.
+
+"I was just across the hall in the south parlour, and that door was
+open and this door ajar," replied Rebecca with a slight flush.
+
+"Then you must have----"
+
+"I couldn't help it."
+
+"Everything?"
+
+"Most of it."
+
+"What was it?"
+
+"The old story."
+
+"I suppose Henry was mad, as he always was, because Edward was living
+on here for nothing, when he had wasted all the money father left him."
+
+Rebecca nodded with a fearful glance at the door.
+
+When Emma spoke again her voice was still more hushed.  "I know how he
+felt," said she.  "He had always been so prudent himself, and worked
+hard at his profession, and there Edward had never done anything but
+spend, and it must have looked to him as if Edward was living at his
+expense, but he wasn't."
+
+"No, he wasn't."
+
+"It was the way father left the property--that all the children should
+have a home here--and he left money enough to buy the food and all if
+we had all come home."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And Edward had a right here according to the terms of father's will,
+and Henry ought to have remembered it."
+
+"Yes, he ought."
+
+"Did he say hard things?"
+
+"Pretty hard from what I heard."
+
+"What?"
+
+"I heard him tell Edward that he had no business here at all, and he
+thought he had better go away."
+
+"What did Edward say?"
+
+"That he would stay here as long as he lived and afterward, too, if he
+was a mind to, and he would like to see Henry get him out; and then----"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Then he laughed."
+
+"What did Henry say?"
+
+"I didn't hear him say anything, but----"
+
+"But what?"
+
+"I saw him when he came out of this room."
+
+"He looked mad?"
+
+"You've seen him when he looked so."
+
+Emma nodded; the expression of horror on her face had deepened.
+
+"Do you remember that time he killed the cat because she had scratched
+him?"
+
+"Yes.  Don't!"
+
+Then Caroline reëntered the room.  She went up to the stove in which a
+wood fire was burning--it was a cold, gloomy day of fall--and she
+warmed her hands, which were reddened from recent washing in cold water.
+
+Mrs. Brigham looked at her and hesitated.  She glanced at the door,
+which was still ajar, as it did not easily shut, being still swollen
+with the damp weather of the summer.  She rose and pushed it together
+with a sharp thud, which jarred the house.  Rebecca started painfully
+with a half exclamation.
+
+Caroline looked at her disapprovingly.
+
+"It is time you controlled your nerves, Rebecca," said she.
+
+"I can't help it," replied Rebecca with almost a wail.  "I am nervous.
+There's enough to make me so, the Lord knows."
+
+"What do you mean by that?" asked Caroline with her old air of sharp
+suspicion, and something between challenge and dread of its being met.
+
+Rebecca shrank.
+
+"Nothing," said she.
+
+"Then I wouldn't keep speaking in such a fashion."
+
+Emma, returning from the closed door, said imperiously that it ought to
+be fixed, it shut so hard.
+
+"It will shrink enough after we have had the fire a few days," replied
+Caroline.  "If anything is done to it it will be too small; there will
+be a crack at the sill."
+
+"I think Henry ought to be ashamed of himself for talking as he did to
+Edward," said Mrs. Brigham abruptly, but in an almost inaudible voice.
+
+"Hush!" said Caroline, with a glance of actual fear at the closed door.
+
+"Nobody can hear with the door shut."
+
+"He must have heard it shut, and----"
+
+"Well, I can say what I want to before he comes down, and I am not
+afraid of him."
+
+"I don't know who is afraid of him!  What reason is there for anybody
+to be afraid of Henry?" demanded Caroline.
+
+Mrs. Brigham trembled before her sister's look.  Rebecca gasped again.
+"There isn't any reason, of course.  Why should there be?"
+
+"I wouldn't speak so, then.  Somebody might overhear you and think it
+was queer.  Miranda Joy is in the south parlour sewing, you know."
+
+"I thought she went upstairs to stitch on the machine."
+
+"She did, but she has come down again."
+
+"Well, she can't hear."
+
+"I say again, I think Henry ought to be ashamed of himself.  I
+shouldn't think he'd ever get over it, having words with poor Edward
+the very night before he died.  Edward was enough sight better
+disposition than Henry, with all his faults.  I always thought a great
+deal of poor Edward, myself."
+
+Mrs. Brigham passed a large fluff of handkerchief across her eyes;
+Rebecca sobbed outright.
+
+"Rebecca," said Caroline admonishingly, keeping her mouth stiff and
+swallowing determinately.
+
+"I never heard him speak a cross word, unless he spoke cross to Henry
+that last night.  I don't know but he did, from what Rebecca
+overheard," said Emma.
+
+"Not so much cross as sort of soft, and sweet, and aggravating,"
+sniffled Rebecca.
+
+"He never raised his voice," said Caroline; "but he had his way."
+
+"He had a right to in this case."
+
+"Yes, he did."
+
+"He had as much of a right here as Henry," sobbed Rebecca, "and now
+he's gone, and he will never be in this home that poor father left him
+and the rest of us again."
+
+"What do you really think ailed Edward?" asked Emma in hardly more than
+a whisper.  She did not look at her sister.
+
+Caroline sat down in a nearby armchair, and clutched the arms
+convulsively until her thin knuckles whitened.
+
+"I told you," said she.
+
+Rebecca held her handkerchief over her mouth, and looked at them above
+it with terrified, streaming eyes.
+
+"I know you said that he had terrible pains in his stomach, and had
+spasms, but what do you think made him have them?"
+
+"Henry called it gastric trouble.  You know Edward has always had
+dyspepsia."
+
+Mrs. Brigham hesitated a moment.  "Was there any talk of
+an--examination?" said she.
+
+Then Caroline turned on her fiercely.
+
+"No," said she in a terrible voice.  "No."
+
+The three sisters' souls seemed to meet on one common ground of
+terrified understanding through their eyes.  The old-fashioned latch of
+the door was heard to rattle, and a push from without made the door
+shake ineffectually.  "It's Henry," Rebecca sighed rather than
+whispered.  Mrs. Brigham settled herself after a noiseless rush.
+Across the floor into her rocking-chair again, and was swaying back and
+forth with her head comfortably leaning back, when the door at last
+yielded and Henry Glynn entered.  He cast a covertly sharp,
+comprehensive glance at Mrs. Brigham with her elaborate calm; at
+Rebecca quietly huddled in the corner of the sofa with her handkerchief
+to her face and only one small reddened ear as attentive as a dog's
+uncovered and revealing her alertness for his presence; at Caroline
+sitting with a strained composure in her armchair by the stove.  She
+met his eyes quite firmly with a look of inscrutable fear, and defiance
+of the fear and of him.
+
+Henry Glynn looked more like this sister than the others.  Both had the
+same hard delicacy of form and feature, both were tall and almost
+emaciated, both had a sparse growth of gray blond hair far back from
+high intellectual foreheads, both had an almost noble aquilinity of
+feature.  They confronted each other with the pitiless immovability of
+two statues in whose marble lineaments emotions were fixed for all
+eternity.
+
+Then Henry Glynn smiled and the smile transformed his face.  He looked
+suddenly years younger, and an almost boyish recklessness and
+irresolution appeared in his face.  He flung himself into a chair with
+a gesture which was bewildering from its incongruity with his general
+appearance.  He leaned his head back, flung one leg over the other, and
+looked laughingly at Mrs. Brigham.
+
+"I declare, Emma, you grow younger every year," he said.
+
+She flushed a little, and her placid mouth widened at the corners.  She
+was susceptible to praise.
+
+"Our thoughts to-day ought to belong to the one of us who will _never_
+grow older," said Caroline in a hard voice.
+
+Henry looked at her, still smiling.  "Of course, we none of us forget
+that," said he, in a deep, gentle voice, "but we have to speak to the
+living, Caroline, and I have not seen Emma for a long time, and the
+living are as dear as the dead."
+
+"Not to me," said Caroline.
+
+She rose, and went abruptly out of the room again.  Rebecca also rose
+and hurried after her, sobbing loudly.
+
+Henry looked slowly after them.
+
+"Caroline is completely unstrung," said he.
+
+Mrs. Brigham rocked.  A confidence in him inspired by his manner was
+stealing over her.  Out of that confidence she spoke quite easily and
+naturally.
+
+"His death was very sudden," said she.
+
+Henry's eyelids quivered slightly but his gaze was unswerving.
+
+"Yes," said he; "it was very sudden.  He was sick only a few hours."
+
+"What did you call it?"
+
+"Gastric."
+
+"You did not think of an examination?"
+
+"There was no need.  I am perfectly certain as to the cause of his
+death."
+
+Suddenly Mrs. Brigham felt a creep as of some live horror over her very
+soul.  Her flesh prickled with cold, before an inflection of his voice.
+She rose, tottering on weak knees.
+
+"Where are you going?" asked Henry in a strange, breathless voice.
+
+Mrs. Brigham said something incoherent about some sewing which she had
+to do, some black for the funeral, and was out of the room.  She went
+up to the front chamber which she occupied.  Caroline was there.  She
+went close to her and took her hands, and the two sisters looked at
+each other.
+
+"Don't speak, don't, I won't have it!" said Caroline finally in an
+awful whisper.
+
+"I won't," replied Emma.
+
+That afternoon the three sisters were in the study, the large front
+room on the ground floor across the hall from the south parlour, when
+the dusk deepened.
+
+Mrs. Brigham was hemming some black material.  She sat close to the
+west window for the waning light.  At last she laid her work on her lap.
+
+"It's no use, I cannot see to sew another stitch until we have a
+light," said she.
+
+Caroline, who was writing some letters at the table, turned to Rebecca,
+in her usual place on the sofa.
+
+"Rebecca, you had better get a lamp," she said.
+
+Rebecca started up; even in the dusk her face showed her agitation.
+
+"It doesn't seem to me that we need a lamp quite yet," she said in a
+piteous, pleading voice like a child's.
+
+"Yes, we do," returned Mrs. Brigham peremptorily.  "We must have a
+light.  I must finish this to-night or I can't go to the funeral, and I
+can't see to sew another stitch."
+
+"Caroline can see to write letters, and she is farther from the window
+than you are," said Rebecca.
+
+"Are you trying to save kerosene or are you lazy, Rebecca Glynn?" cried
+Mrs. Brigham.  "I can go and get the light myself, but I have this work
+all in my lap."
+
+Caroline's pen stopped scratching.
+
+"Rebecca, we must have the light," said she.
+
+"Had we better have it in here?" asked Rebecca weakly.
+
+"Of course!  Why not?" cried Caroline sternly.
+
+"I am sure I don't want to take my sewing into the other room, when it
+is all cleaned up for to-morrow," said Mrs. Brigham.
+
+"Why, I never heard such a to-do about lighting a lamp."
+
+Rebecca rose and left the room.  Presently she entered with a lamp--a
+large one with a white porcelain shade.  She set it on a table, an
+old-fashioned card-table which was placed against the opposite wall
+from the window.  That wall was clear of bookcases and books, which
+were only on three sides of the room.  That opposite wall was taken up
+with three doors, the one small space being occupied by the table.
+Above the table on the old-fashioned paper, of a white satin gloss,
+traversed by an indeterminate green scroll, hung quite high a small
+gilt and black-framed ivory miniature taken in her girlhood of the
+mother of the family.  When the lamp was set on the table beneath it,
+the tiny pretty face painted on the ivory seemed to gleam out with a
+look of intelligence.
+
+"What have you put that lamp over there for?" asked Mrs. Brigham, with
+more of impatience than her voice usually revealed.  "Why didn't you
+set it in the hall and have done with it?  Neither Caroline nor I can
+see if it is on that table."
+
+"I thought perhaps you would move," replied Rebecca hoarsely.
+
+"If I do move, we can't both sit at that table.  Caroline has her paper
+all spread around.  Why don't you set the lamp on the study table in
+the middle of the room, then we can both see?"
+
+Rebecca hesitated.  Her face was very pale.  She looked with an appeal
+that was fairly agonizing at her sister Caroline.
+
+"Why don't you put the lamp on this table, as she says?" asked
+Caroline, almost fiercely.  "Why do you act so, Rebecca?"
+
+"I should think you _would_ ask her that," said Mrs. Brigham.  "She
+doesn't act like herself at all."
+
+Rebecca took the lamp and set it on the table in the middle of the room
+without another word.  Then she turned her back upon it quickly and
+seated herself on the sofa, and placed a hand over her eyes as if to
+shade them, and remained so.
+
+"Does the light hurt your eyes, and is that the reason why you didn't
+want the lamp?" asked Mrs. Brigham kindly.
+
+"I always like to sit in the dark," replied Rebecca chokingly.
+
+Then she snatched her handkerchief hastily from her pocket and began to
+weep.  Caroline continued to write, Mrs. Brigham to sew.
+
+Suddenly Mrs. Brigham as she sewed glanced at the opposite wall.  The
+glance became a steady stare.  She looked intently, her work suspended
+in her hands.  Then she looked away again and took a few more stitches,
+then she looked again, and again turned to her task.  At last she laid
+her work in her lap and stared concentratedly.  She looked from the
+wall around the room, taking note of the various objects; she looked at
+the wall long and intently.  Then she turned to her sisters.
+
+"What _is_ that?" said she.
+
+"What?" asked Caroline harshly; her pen scratched loudly across the
+paper.
+
+Rebecca gave one of her convulsive gasps.
+
+"That strange shadow on the wall," replied Mrs. Brigham.
+
+Rebecca sat with her face hidden: Caroline dipped her pen in the
+inkstand.
+
+"Why don't you turn around and look?" asked Mrs. Brigham in a wondering
+and somewhat aggrieved way.
+
+"I am in a hurry to finish this letter, if Mrs. Wilson Ebbit is going
+to get word in time to come to the funeral," replied Caroline shortly.
+
+Mrs. Brigham rose, her work slipping to the floor, and she began
+walking around the room, moving various articles of furniture, with her
+eyes on the shadow.
+
+Then suddenly she shrieked out:
+
+"Look at this awful shadow!  What is it?  Caroline, look, look!
+Rebecca, look!  _What is it_?"
+
+All Mrs. Brigham's triumphant placidity was gone.  Her handsome face
+was livid with horror.  She stood stiffly pointing at the shadow.
+
+"Look!" said she, pointing her finger at it.  "Look!  What is it?"
+
+Then Rebecca burst out in a wild wail after a shuddering glance at the
+wall:
+
+"Oh, Caroline, there it is again!  There it is again!"
+
+"Caroline Glynn, you look!" said Mrs. Brigham.  "Look!  What is that
+dreadful shadow?"
+
+Caroline rose, turned, and stood confronting the wall.
+
+"How should I know?" she said.
+
+"It has been there every night since he died," cried Rebecca.--"Every
+night?"
+
+"Yes.  He died Thursday and this is Saturday; that makes three nights,"
+said Caroline rigidly.  She stood as if holding herself calm with a
+vise of concentrated will.
+
+"It--it looks like--like----" stammered Mrs. Brigham in a tone of
+intense horror.--"I know what it looks like well enough," said
+Caroline.  "I've got eyes in my head."
+
+"It looks like Edward," burst out Rebecca in a sort of frenzy of fear.
+"Only----"
+
+"Yes, it does," assented Mrs. Brigham, whose horror-stricken tone
+matched her sister's, "only----  Oh, it is awful!  What is it,
+Caroline?"
+
+"I ask you again, how should I know?" replied Caroline.  "I see it
+there like you.  How should I know any more than you?"--"It _must_ be
+something in the room," said Mrs. Brigham, staring wildly around.
+
+"We moved everything in the room the first night it came," said
+Rebecca; "it is not anything in the room."
+
+Caroline turned upon her with a sort of fury.  "Of course it is
+something in the room," said she.  "How you act!  What do you mean by
+talking so?  Of course it is something in the room."
+
+"Of course, it is," agreed Mrs. Brigham, looking at Caroline
+suspiciously.  "Of course it must be.  It is only a coincidence.  It
+just happens so.  Perhaps it is that fold of the window curtain that
+makes it.  It must be something in the room."
+
+"It is not anything in the room," repeated Rebecca with obstinate
+horror.
+
+The door opened suddenly and Henry Glynn entered.
+
+He began to speak, then his eyes followed the direction of the others'.
+He stood stock still staring at the shadow on the wall.  It was life
+size and stretched across the white parallelogram of a door, half
+across the wall space on which the picture hung.
+
+"What is that?" he demanded in a strange voice.
+
+"It must be due to something in the room," Mrs. Brigham said faintly.
+
+"It is not due to anything in the room," said Rebecca again with the
+shrill insistency of terror.
+
+"How you act, Rebecca Glynn," said Caroline.
+
+Henry Glynn stood and stared a moment longer.  His face showed a gamut
+of emotions--horror, conviction, then furious incredulity.  Suddenly he
+began hastening hither and thither about the room.  He moved the
+furniture with fierce jerks, turning ever to see the effect upon the
+shadow on the wall.  Not a line of its terrible outlines wavered.
+
+"It must be something in the room!" he declared in a voice which seemed
+to snap like a lash.
+
+His face changed.  The inmost secrecy of his nature seemed evident
+until one almost lost sight of his lineaments.  Rebecca stood close to
+her sofa, regarding him with woeful, fascinated eyes.  Mrs. Brigham
+clutched Caroline's hand.  They both stood in a corner out of his way.
+For a few moments he raged about the room like a caged wild animal.  He
+moved every piece of furniture; when the moving of a piece did not
+affect the shadow, he flung it to the floor, the sisters watching.
+
+Then suddenly he desisted.  He laughed and began straightening the
+furniture which he had flung down.
+
+"What an absurdity," he said easily.  "Such a to-do about a shadow."
+
+"That's so," assented Mrs. Brigham, in a scared voice which she tried
+to make natural.  As she spoke she lifted a chair near her.
+
+"I think you have broken the chair that Edward was so fond of," said
+Caroline.
+
+Terror and wrath were struggling for expression on her face.  Her mouth
+was set, her eyes shrinking.  Henry lifted the chair with a show of
+anxiety.
+
+"Just as good as ever," he said pleasantly.  He laughed again, looking
+at his sisters.  "Did I scare you?" he said.  "I should think you might
+be used to me by this time.  You know my way of wanting to leap to the
+bottom of a mystery, and that shadow does look--queer, like--and I
+thought if there was any way of accounting for it I would like to
+without any delay."--"You don't seem to have succeeded," remarked
+Caroline dryly, with a slight glance at the wall.
+
+Henry's eyes followed hers and he quivered perceptibly.
+
+"Oh, there is no accounting for shadows," he said, and he laughed
+again.  "A man is a fool to try to account for shadows."
+
+Then the supper bell rang, and they all left the room, but Henry kept
+his back to the wall, as did, indeed, the others.
+
+Mrs. Brigham pressed close to Caroline as she crossed the hall.  "He
+looked like a demon!" she breathed in her ear.
+
+Henry led the way with an alert motion like a boy; Rebecca brought up
+the rear; she could scarcely walk, her knees trembled so.
+
+"I can't sit in that room again this evening," she whispered to
+Caroline after supper.
+
+"Very well, we will sit in the south room," replied Caroline.  "I think
+we will sit in the south parlour," she said aloud; "it isn't as damp as
+the study, and I have a cold."
+
+So they all sat in the south room with their sewing.  Henry read the
+newspaper, his chair drawn close to the lamp on the table.  About nine
+o'clock he rose abruptly and crossed the hall to the study.  The three
+sisters looked at one another.  Mrs. Brigham rose, folded her rustling
+skirts compactly around her, and began tiptoeing toward the door.
+
+"What are you going to do?" inquired Rebecca agitatedly.--"I am going
+to see what he is about," replied Mrs. Brigham cautiously.
+
+She pointed as she spoke to the study door across the hall; it was
+ajar.  Henry had striven to pull it together behind him, but it had
+somehow swollen beyond the limit with curious speed.  It was still ajar
+and a streak of light showed from top to bottom.  The hall lamp was not
+lit.
+
+"You had better stay where you are," said Caroline with guarded
+sharpness.
+
+"I am going to see," repeated Mrs. Brigham firmly.
+
+Then she folded her skirts so tightly that her bulk with its swelling
+curves was revealed in a black silk sheath, and she went with a slow
+toddle across the hall to the study door.  She stood there, her eye at
+the crack.
+
+In the south room Rebecca stopped sewing and sat watching with dilated
+eyes.  Caroline sewed steadily.  What Mrs. Brigham, standing at the
+crack in the study door, saw was this:
+
+Henry Glynn, evidently reasoning that the source of the strange shadow
+must be between the table on which the lamp stood and the wall, was
+making systematic passes and thrusts all over and through the
+intervening space with an old sword which had belonged to his father.
+Not an inch was left unpierced.  He seemed to have divided the space
+into mathematical sections.  He brandished the sword with a sort of
+cold fury and calculation; the blade gave out flashes of light, the
+shadow remained unmoved.  Mrs. Brigham, watching, felt herself cold
+with horror.
+
+Finally Henry ceased and stood with the sword in hand and raised as if
+to strike, surveying the shadow on the wall threateningly.  Mrs.
+Brigham toddled back across the hall and shut the south room door
+behind her before she related what she had seen.
+
+"He looked like a demon!" she said again.  "Have you got any of that
+old wine in the house, Caroline?  I don't feel as if I could stand much
+more."
+
+Indeed, she looked overcome.  Her handsome placid face was worn and
+strained and pale.
+
+"Yes, there's plenty," said Caroline; "you can have some when you go to
+bed."
+
+"I think we had all better take some," said Mrs. Brigham.
+
+"Oh, my God, Caroline, what----"
+
+"Don't ask and don't speak," said Caroline.
+
+"No, I am not going to," replied Mrs. Brigham; "but----"
+
+Rebecca moaned aloud.
+
+"What are you doing that for?" asked Caroline harshly.
+
+"Poor Edward," returned Rebecca.
+
+"That is all you have to groan for," said Caroline.  "There is nothing
+else."
+
+"I am going to bed," said Mrs. Brigham.  "I sha'n't be able to be at
+the funeral if I don't."
+
+Soon the three sisters went to their chambers and the south parlour was
+deserted.  Caroline called to Henry in the study to put out the light
+before he came upstairs.  They had been gone about an hour when he came
+into the room bringing the lamp which had stood in the study.  He set
+it on the table and waited a few minutes, pacing up and down.  His face
+was terrible, his fair complexion showed livid; his blue eyes seemed
+dark blanks of awful reflections.
+
+Then he took the lamp up and returned to the library.  He set the lamp
+on the centre table, and the shadow sprang out on the wall.  Again he
+studied the furniture and moved it about, but deliberately, with none
+of his former frenzy.  Nothing affected the shadow.  Then he returned
+to the south room with the lamp and again waited.  Again he returned to
+the study and placed the lamp on the table, and the shadow sprang out
+upon the wall.  It was midnight before he went upstairs.  Mrs. Brigham
+and the other sisters, who could not sleep, heard him.
+
+The next day was the funeral.  That evening the family sat in the south
+room.  Some relatives were with them.  Nobody entered the study until
+Henry carried a lamp in there after the others had retired for the
+night.  He saw again the shadow on the wall leap to an awful life
+before the light.
+
+The next morning at breakfast Henry Glynn announced that he had to go
+to the city for three days.  The sisters looked at him with surprise.
+He very seldom left home, and just now his practice had been neglected
+on account of Edward's death.  He was a physician.
+
+"How can you leave your patients now?" asked Mrs. Brigham wonderingly.
+
+"I don't know how to, but there is no other way," replied Henry easily.
+"I have had a telegram from Doctor Mitford."
+
+"Consultation?" inquired Mrs. Brigham.
+
+"I have business," replied Henry.
+
+Doctor Mitford was an old classmate of his who lived in a neighbouring
+city and who occasionally called upon him in the case of a consultation.
+
+After he had gone Mrs. Brigham said to Caroline that after all Henry
+had not said that he was going to consult with Doctor Mitford, and she
+thought it very strange.
+
+"Everything is very strange," said Rebecca with a shudder.
+
+"What do you mean?" inquired Caroline sharply.
+
+"Nothing," replied Rebecca.
+
+Nobody entered the library that day, nor the next, nor the next.  The
+third day Henry was expected home, but he did not arrive and the last
+train from the city had come.
+
+"I call it pretty queer work," said Mrs. Brigham.  "The idea of a
+doctor leaving his patients for three days anyhow, at such a time as
+this, and I know he has some very sick ones; he said so.  And the idea
+of a consultation lasting three days!  There is no sense in it, and
+_now_ he has not come.  I don't understand it, for my part."
+
+"I don't either," said Rebecca.
+
+They were all in the south parlour.  There was no light in the study
+opposite, and the door was ajar.
+
+Presently Mrs. Brigham rose--she could not have told why; something
+seemed to impel her, some will outside her own.  She went out of the
+room, again wrapping her rustling skirts around that she might pass
+noiselessly, and began pushing at the swollen door of the study.
+
+"She has not got any lamp," said Rebecca in a shaking voice.
+
+Caroline, who was writing letters, rose again, took a lamp (there were
+two in the room) and followed her sister.  Rebecca had risen, but she
+stood trembling, not venturing to follow.  The doorbell rang, but the
+others did not hear it; it was on the south door on the other side of
+the house from the study.  Rebecca, after hesitating until the bell
+rang the second time, went to the door; she remembered that the servant
+was out.
+
+Caroline and her sister Emma entered the study.  Caroline set the lamp
+on the table.  They looked at the wall.  "Oh, my God," gasped Mrs.
+Brigham, "there are--there are two--shadows."  The sisters stood
+clutching each other, staring at the awful things on the wall.  Then
+Rebecca came in, staggering, with a telegram in her hand.  "Here is--a
+telegram," she gasped.  "Henry is--dead."
+
+
+
+
+MAJOR PERDUE'S BARGAIN
+
+By JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS
+
+Copyright 1899 by Charles Scribner's Sons.
+
+
+When next I had an opportunity to talk with Aunt Minervy Ann, she
+indulged in a hearty laugh before saying a word, and it was some time
+before she found her voice.
+
+"What is so funny to-day?" I inquired.
+
+"Me, suh--nothin' tall 'bout me, an' 'tain't only ter day, nudder.
+Hit's eve'y day sence I been big 'nuff fer to see myse'f in de spring
+branch.  I laughed den, an' I laugh now eve'y time I see myse'f in my
+min'--ef I' got any min'.  I wuz talkin' ter Hamp las' night an'
+tellin' 'im how I start in ter tell you sump'n 'bout Marse Paul Conant'
+shoulder, an' den eend up by tellin' you eve'ything else I know but dat.
+
+"Hamp low, he did, 'Dat ain't nothin', bekaze when I ax you ter marry
+me, you start in an' tell me 'bout a nigger gal 'cross dar in Jasper
+County, which she make promise fer ter marry a man an' she crossed her
+heart; an' den when de time come she stood up an' marry 'im an' fin'
+out 'tain't de same man, but somebody what she ain't never see' befo'.'
+
+"I 'speck dat's so, suh, bekaze dey wuz sump'n like dat happen in
+Jasper County.  You know de Waters fambly--dey kep' race-hosses.  Well,
+suh, 'twuz right on der plantation.  Warren Waters tol' me 'bout dat
+hisse'f.  He wuz de hoss-trainer, an' he 'uz right dar on de groun'.
+When de gal done married, she look up an' holler, 'You ain't my
+husban', bekaze I ain't make no promise fer ter marry you.'  De man he
+laugh, an' say, 'Don't need no promise atter you done married.'
+
+"Well, suh, dey say dat gal wuz skeer'd--skeer'd fer true.  She sot on'
+look in der fire.  De man sot an' look at 'er.  She try ter slip out de
+do', an' he slipped wid 'er.  She walked to'rds de big house, an' he
+walkt wid 'er.  She come back, an' he come wid 'er.  She run an' he run
+wid 'er.  She cry an' he laugh at 'er.  She dunner what to do.  Bimeby
+she tuck a notion dat de man mought be de Ol' Boy hisse'f, an' she
+dropped down on her knees an' 'gun ter pray.  Dis make de man restless;
+look like he frettin'.  Den he 'gun ter shake like he havin' chill.
+Den he slip down out'n de cheer.  Down he went on his all-fours.  Den
+his cloze drapped off, an' bless gracious! dar he wuz, a great big
+black shaggy dog wid a short chain roun' his neck.  Some un um flung a
+chunk of fire at 'im, an' he run out howlin'.
+
+"Dat wuz de last dey seed un 'im, suh.  Dey flung his cloze in de fire,
+an' dey make a blaze dat come plum out'n de top er de chimbley stack.
+Dat what make me tell Hamp 'bout it, suh.  He ax me fer ter marry 'im,
+an' I wan't so mighty sho' dat he wan't de Ol' Boy."
+
+"Well, that is queer, if true," said I, "but how about Mr. Conant's
+crippled shoulder?"
+
+"Oh, it's de trufe, suh.  Warren Waters tol' me dat out'n his own mouf,
+an' he wuz right dar.  I dunno but what de gal wuz some er his kinnery.
+I don't min' tellin' you dat 'bout Marse Paul, suh, but you mustn't let
+on 'bout it, bekaze Marse Tumlin an' Miss Vallie des' ez tetchous 'bout
+dat ez dey kin be.  I'd never git der fergivunce ef dey know'd I was
+settin' down here tellin' 'bout dat.
+
+"You know how 'twaz in dem days.  De folks what wuz de richest wuz de
+wussest off when de army come home from battlin'.  I done tol' you
+'bout Marse Tumlin.  He ain't had nothin' in de roun' worl' but a whole
+passel er lan', an' me an' Miss Vallie.  I don't count Hamp, bekaze
+Hamp 'fuse ter blieve he's free twel he ramble 'roun' an' fin' out de
+patterollers ain't gwine ter take 'im up.  Dat how come I had ter sell
+ginger-cakes an' chicken-pies dat time.  De money I made at dat ain't
+last long, bekaze Marse Tumlin he been use' ter rich vittles, an' he
+went right downtown an' got a bottle er chow-chow, an' some olives, an'
+some sardines, an' some cheese, an' you know yo'se'f, suh, dat money
+ain't gwine ter las' when you buy dat kin' er doin's.
+
+"Well, suh, we done mighty well whiles de money helt out, but 'tain't
+court-week all de time, an' when dat de case, money got ter come fum
+some'rs else 'sides sellin' cakes an' pies.  Bimeby, Hamp he got work
+at de liberty stable, whar dey hire out hosses an' board um.  I call it
+a hoss tavern, suh, but Hamp, he 'low it's a liberty stable.  Anyhow,
+he got work dar, an' dat sorter he'p out.  Sometimes he'd growl bekaze
+I tuck his money fer ter he'p out my white folks, but when he got right
+mad I'd gi' Miss Vallie de wink, an' she'd say: 'Hampton, how'd you
+like ter have a little dram ter-night?  You look like youer tired.'  I
+could a-hugged 'er fer de way she done it, she 'uz dat cute.  An' den
+Hamp, he'd grin an' low, 'I ain't honin' fer it, Miss Vallie, but
+'twon't do me no harm, an' it may do me good.'
+
+"An' den, suh, he'd set down, an' atter he got sorter warmed up wid de
+dram, he'd kinder roll his eye and low, 'Miss Vallie, she is a fine
+white 'oman!'  Well, suh, 'tain't long 'fo' we had dat nigger man
+trained--done trained, bless you' soul!  One day Miss Vallie had ter go
+'cross town, an' she went by de liberty stable whar Hamp wuz at,
+leastways, he seed 'er some'rs; an' he come home dat night lookin' like
+he wuz feelin' bad.  He 'fuse ter talk.  Bimeby, atter he had his
+supper, he say, 'I seed Miss Vallie downtown ter-day.  She wuz wid Miss
+Irene, an' dat 'ar frock she had on look mighty shabby.'  I low, 'Well,
+it de bes' she got.  She ain't got money like de Chippendales, an' Miss
+Irene don't keer how folks' cloze look.  She too much quality fer dat.'
+Hamp say, 'Whyn't you take some er yo' money an' make Miss Vallie git
+er nice frock?'  I low, 'Whar I got any money?'  Hamp he hit his pocket
+an' say, 'You got it right here.'
+
+"An' sho' 'nuff, suh, dat nigger man had a roll er money--mos' twenty
+dollars.  Some hoss drovers had come long an' Hamp made dat money by
+trimmin' up de ol' mules dey had an' makin' um look young.  He's got de
+art er dat, suh, an' dey paid 'im well.  Dar wuz de money, but how wuz
+I gwine ter git it in Miss Vallie's han'?  I kin buy vittles an' she
+not know whar dey come fum, but when it come ter buyin' frocks--well,
+suh, hit stumped me.  Dey wan't but one way ter do it, an' I done it.
+I make like I wuz mad.  I tuck de money an' went in de house dar whar
+Miss Vallie wuz sewin' an' mendin'.  I went stompin' in, I did, an'
+when I got in I started my tune.
+
+"I low, 'Ef de Perdues gwine ter go scandalizin' deyse'f by trottin'
+down town in broad daylight wid all kinder frocks on der back, I'm
+gwine 'way fum here; an' I dun'ner but what I'll go anyhow.  'Tain't
+bekaze dey's any lack er money, fer here de money right here.'  Wid dat
+I slammed it down on de table.  'Dar! take dat an' git you a frock
+dat'll make you look like sump'n when you git outside er dis house.
+An' whiles you er gittin', git sump'n for ter put on yo' head!'"
+
+Whether it was by reason of a certain dramatic faculty inherent in her
+race that she was able to summon emotions at will, or whether it was
+mere unconscious reproduction, I am not prepared to say.  But certain
+it is that, in voice and gesture, in tone and attitude, and in a
+certain passionate earnestness of expression, Aunt Minervy Ann built up
+the whole scene before my eyes with such power that I seemed to have
+been present when it occurred.  I felt as if she had conveyed me bodily
+into the room to become a witness of the episode.  She went on, still
+with a frown on her face and a certain violence of tone and manner:
+
+"I whipped 'roun' de room a time er two, pickin' up de cheers an'
+slammin' um down agin, an' knockin' things 'roun' like I wuz mad.  Miss
+Vallie put her sewin' down an' lay her han' on de money.  She low,
+'What's dis, Aunt Minervy Ann?'  I say, 'Hit's money, dat what
+'tis--nothin' but nasty, stinkin' money!  I wish dey wan't none in de
+worl' less'n I had a bairlful.'  She sorter fumble at de money wid 'er
+fingers.  You dunno, suh, how white an' purty an' weak her han' look
+ter me dat night.  She low, 'Aunt Minervy Ann, I can't take dis.'  I
+blaze' out at 'er, 'You don't hafter take it; you done got it!  An' ef
+you don't keep it, I'll rake up eve'y rag an' scrap I got an' leave dis
+place.  Now, you des' try me!'"
+
+[Illustration: Mary E. Wilkins Freeman]
+
+Again Aunt Minervy Ann summoned to her aid the passion of a moment that
+had passed away, and again I had the queer experience of seeming to
+witness the whole scene.  She continued:
+
+"Wid dat, I whipt out er de room an' out er de house an' went an' sot
+down out dar in my house whar Hamp was at.  Hamp, he low, 'What she
+say?'  I say, 'She ain't had time ter say nothin'--I come 'way fum
+dar.'  He low, 'You ain't brung dat money back, is you?'  I say: 'Does
+you think I'm a start naked fool?'  He low: 'Kaze ef you is, I'll put
+it right spang in de fire here.'
+
+"Well, suh, I sot dar some little time, but eve'ything wuz so still in
+de house, bein's Marse Tumlin done gone downtown, dat I crope back an'
+crope in fer ter see what Miss Vallie doin'.  Well, suh, she wuz
+cryin'--settin' dar cryin'.  I 'low, 'Honey, is I say anything fer ter
+hurt yo' feelin's?'  She blubber' out, 'You know you ain't!' an' den
+she cry good-fashion.
+
+"Des 'bout dat time, who should come in but Marse Tumlin.  He look at
+Miss Vallie an' den he look at me.  He say, 'Valentine, what de
+matter?'  I say, 'It's me!  I'm de one!  I made 'er cry.  I done sump'n
+ter hurt 'er feelin's.'  She low, ''Tain't so, an' you know it.  I'm
+des cryin' bekaze you too good ter me.'
+
+"Well, suh, I had ter git out er dar fer ter keep fum chokin'.  Marse
+Tumlin foller me out, an' right here on de porch, he low, 'Minervy Ann,
+nex' time don't be so dam good to 'er.'  I wuz doin' some snifflin'
+myse'f 'bout dat time, an' I ain't keerin' what I say, so I stop an'
+flung back at 'im, '_I'll be des es dam good ter 'er ez I please--I'm
+free_!'  Well, suh, stidder hittin' me, Marse Tumlin bust out laughin',
+an' long atter dat he'd laugh eve'y time he look at me, des like sump'n
+wuz ticklin' 'im mighty nigh ter death.
+
+"I 'speck he must er tol' 'bout dat cussin' part, bekaze folks 'roun'
+here done got de idee dat I'm a sassy an' bad-tempered 'oman.  Ef I had
+ter work fer my livin', suh, I boun' you I'd be a long time findin' a
+place.  Atter dat, Hamp, he got in de Legislatur', an' it sho' wuz a
+money-makin' place.  Den we had eve'ything we wanted, an' mo' too, but
+bimeby de Legislatur' gun out, an' den dar we wuz, flat ez flounders,
+an' de white folks don't want ter hire Hamp des kaze he been ter de
+Legislatur'; but he got back in de liberty stable atter so long a time.
+Yit 'twa'n't what you may call livin'.
+
+"All dat time, I hear Marse Tumlin talkin' ter Miss Vallie 'bout what
+he call his wil' lan'.  He say he got two thousan' acres down dar in de
+wiregrass, an' ef he kin sell it, he be mighty glad ter do so.  Well,
+suh, one day, long to'rds night, a two-hoss waggin driv' in at de side
+gate an' come in de back-yard.  Ol' Ben Sadler wuz drivin', an' he low,
+'Heyo, Minervy Ann, whar you want deze goods drapped at?'  I say,
+'Hello yo'se'f, ef you wanter hello.  What you got dar, an' who do it
+'blong ter?'  He low, 'Hit's goods fer Major Tumlin Perdue, an' whar
+does you want um drapped at?'  Well, suh, I ain't know what ter say,
+but I run'd an' ax'd Miss Vallie, an' she say put um out anywheres
+'roun' dar, kaze she dunner nothin' 'bout um.  So ol' Ben Sadler, he
+put um out, an' when I come ter look at um, dey wuz a bairl er sump'n,
+an' a kaig er sump'n, an' a box er sump'n.  De bairl shuck like it
+mought be lasses, an' de kaig shuck like it mought be dram, an' de box
+hefted like it mought be terbarker.  An', sho' 'nuff, dat what dey
+wuz--a bairl er sorghum syr'p, an' a kaig er peach brandy, an' a box er
+plug terbarker.
+
+"I say right den, an' Miss Vallie 'll tell you de same, dat Marse
+Tumlin done gone an' swap off all his wil' lan', but Miss Vallie, she
+say no; he won't never think er seen a thing; but, bless yo' soul, suh,
+she wa'n't nothin' but a school-gal, you may say, an' she ain't know no
+mo' 'bout men folks dan what a weasel do.  An den, right 'pon top er
+dat, here come a nigger boy leadin' a bob-tail hoss.  When I see dat, I
+dez good ez know'd dat de wil' lan' done been swap off, bekaze Marse
+Tumlin ain't got nothin' fer ter buy all dem things wid, an' I tell you
+right now, suh, I wuz rank mad, kase what we want wid any ol' bob-tail
+hoss?  De sorghum mought do, an' de dram kin be put up wid, an' de
+terbarker got some comfort in it, but what de name er goodness we gwine
+ter do wid dat ol' hoss, when we ain't got hardly 'nuff vittles fer ter
+feed ourse'f wid?  Dat what I ax Miss Vallie, an' she say right
+pine-blank she dunno.
+
+"Well, suh, it's de Lord's trufe, I wuz dat mad I dunner what I say,
+an' I wa'n't keerin' nudder, bekaze I know how we had ter pinch an'
+squeeze fer ter git long in dis house.  But I went 'bout gittin'
+supper, an' bimeby, Hamp, he come, an' I told 'im 'bout de ol' bob-tail
+hoss, an' he went out an' look at 'im.  Atter while, here he come back
+laughin', I say, 'You well ter laugh at dat ol' hoss.'  He, 'low, 'I
+ain't laughin' at de hoss.  I'm laughin' at you.  Gal, dat de finest
+hoss what ever put foot on de groun' in dis town.  Dat's Marse Paul
+Conant's trottin' hoss.  He'll fetch fi' hunder'd dollars any day.
+What he doin' here?'  I up an' tol' 'im all I know'd, an' he shuck his
+head; he low, 'Gal, you lay low.  Dey's sump'n n'er behime all dat.'
+
+"What Hamp say sorter make me put on my studyin'-cap; but when you come
+ter look at it, suh, dey wa'n't nothin' 'tall fer me ter study 'bout.
+All I had ter do wuz ter try ter fin' out what wuz behime it, an' let
+it go at dat.  When Marse Tumlin come home ter supper, I know'd sump'n
+wuz de matter wid 'im.  I know'd it by his looks, suh.  It's sorter wid
+folks like 'tis wid chillun.  Ef you keer 'sump'n 'bout um you'll watch
+der motions, and ef you watch der motions dey don't hatter tell you
+when sump'n de matter.  He come in so easy, suh, dat Miss Vallie ain't
+hear 'im, but I hear de do' screak, an' I know'd 'twuz him.  We wuz
+talkin' an' gwine on at a mighty rate, an' I know'd he done stop ter
+lis'n.
+
+"Miss Vallie, she low she 'speck somebody made 'im a present er dem ar
+things.  I say, 'Uh-uh, honey! don't you fool yo'se'f.  Nobody ain't
+gwine ter do dat.  Our folks ain't no mo' like dey useter wuz, dan
+crabapples is like plums.  Dey done come ter dat pass dat whatsomever
+dey gits der han's on dey 'fuse ter turn it loose.  All un um, 'cep'
+Marse Tumlin Perdue.  Dey ain't no tellin' what he gun fer all dat
+trash.  _Trash_!  Hit's wuss'n trash!  I wish you'd go out dar an' look
+at dat ol' bob-tail hoss.  Why dat ol' hoss wuz stove up long 'fo' de
+war.  By rights he ought ter be in de bone-yard dis ve'y minnit.  He
+won't be here two whole days 'fo' you'll see de buzzards lined up out
+dar on de back fence waitin', an' dey won't hatter wait long nudder.
+Ef dey sen' any corn here fer ter feed dat bag er bones wid, I'll parch
+it an' eat it myse'f 'fo' he shill have it.  Ef anybody 'speck I'm
+gwine ter 'ten' ter dat ol' frame, deyer 'speckin' wid de wrong specks,
+I tell you dat right now.'
+
+"All dis time Marse Tumlin wuz stan'in' out in de hall lis'nin'.  Miss
+Vallie talk mighty sweet 'bout it.  She say, 'Ef dey ain't nobody else
+ter 'ten' de hoss, reckin I kin do it.'  I low, 'My life er me, honey!
+de nex' news you know you'll be hirin' out ter de liberty stable.'
+
+"Well, suh, my talk 'gun ter git so hot dat Marse Tumlin des had ter
+make a fuss.  He fumbled wid de do' knob, an' den come walkin' down de
+hall, an' by dat time I wuz in de dinin'-room.  I walk mighty light,
+bekaze ef he say anything I want ter hear it.  You can't call it
+eave-drappin', suh; hit look ter me dat 'twuz ez much my business ez
+'twuz dern, an' I ain't never got dat idee out'n my head down ter dis
+day.
+
+"But Marse Tumlin ain't say nothin', 'cep' fer ter ax Miss Vallie ef
+she feelin' well, an' how eve'ything wuz, but de minnit I hear 'im open
+his mouf I know'd he had trouble on his min'.  I can't tell you how I
+know'd it, suh, but dar 'twuz.  Look like he tried to hide it, bekaze
+he tol' a whole lot of funny tales 'bout folks, an' 'twa'n't long befo'
+he had Miss Vallie laughin' fit ter kill.  But he ain't fool me, suh.
+
+"Bimeby, Miss Vallie, she come in de dinin'-room fer ter look atter
+settin' de table, bekaze fum a little gal she allers like ter have de
+dishes fix des so.  She wuz sorter hummin' a chune, like she ain't want
+ter talk, but I ain't let dat stan' in my way.
+
+"I low, 'I wish eve'ybody wuz like dat Mr. Paul Conant.  I bet you
+right now he been downtown dar all day makin' money han' over fist, des
+ez fast ez he can rake it in.  I know it, kaze I does his washin' and
+cleans up his room fer 'im.'
+
+"Miss Vallie say, 'Well, what uv it?  Money don't make 'im no better'n
+anybody else.'  I low, 'Hit don't make 'im no wuss; an' den, 'sides
+dat, he ain't gwine ter let nobody swindle 'im.'
+
+"By dat time, I hatter go out an' fetch supper in, an' 'tain't take me
+no time, bekaze I wuz des' achin' fer ter hear how Marse Tumlin come by
+dem ar contraptions an' contrivances.  An' I stayed in dar ter wait on
+de table, which it ain't need no waitin' on.
+
+"Atter while, I low, 'Marse Tumlin, I like ter forgot ter tell
+you--you' things done come.'  He say, 'What things, Minervy Ann?'  I
+low, 'Dem ar contraptions, an' dat ar bob-tail hoss.  He look mighty
+lean an' hongry, de hoss do, but Hamp he say dat's bekaze he's a
+high-bred hoss.  He say dem ar high-bred hosses won't take on no fat,
+no matter how much you feed urn.'
+
+"Marse Tumlin sorter drum on de table.  Atter while he low, 'Dey done
+come, is dey, Minervy Ann?'  I say, 'Yasser, dey er here right now.
+Hamp puts it down dat dat ar hoss oneer de gayliest creatur's what ever
+make a track in dis town.'
+
+"Well, suh, 'tain't no use ter tell you what else wuz said, kaze
+'twan't much.  I seed dat Marse Tumlin wan't gwine ter talk 'bout it,
+on account er bein' 'fear'd he'd hurt Miss Vallie's feelin's ef he tol'
+'er dat he done swap off all dat wil' lan' fer dem ar things an' dat ar
+bob-tail hoss.  Dat what he done.  Yasser!  I hear 'im sesso
+afterwards.  He swap it off ter Marse Paul Conant.
+
+"I thank my Lord it come out all right, but it come mighty nigh bein'
+de ruination er de fambly."
+
+"How was that?" I inquired.
+
+"Dat what I'm gwine ter tell you, suh.  Right atter supper dat night,
+Marse Tumlin say he got ter go down town fer ter see a man on some
+business, an' he ax me ef I won't stay in de house dar wid Miss Vallie.
+'Twa'n't no trouble ter me, bekaze I'd 'a' been on de place anyhow, an'
+so when I got de kitchen cleaned up an' de things put away, I went back
+in de house whar Miss Vallie wuz at Marse Tumlin wuz done gone.
+
+"Miss Vallie, she sot at de table doin' some kind er rufflin', an' I
+sot back ag'in de wall in one er dem ar high-back cheers.  What we said
+I'll never tell you, suh, bekaze I'm one er deze kinder folks what
+ain't no sooner set down an' git still dan dey goes ter noddin'.  Dat's
+me.  Set me down in a cheer, high-back er low-back, an' I'm done gone!
+I kin set here on de step an' keep des ez wide-'wake ez a skeer'd
+rabbit, but set me down in a cheer--well, suh, I'd like ter see anybody
+keep me 'wake when dat's de case.
+
+"Dar I sot in dat ar high-back cheer, Miss Vallie rufflin' an' flutin'
+sump'n, an' tryin' ter make me talk, an' my head rollin' 'roun' like my
+neck done broke.  Bimeby, _blam_! _blam_! come on de do'.  We got one
+er dem ar jinglin' bells now, suh, but in dem times we had a knocker,
+an' it soun' like de roof fallin' in.  I like ter jumped out'n my skin.
+Miss Vallie drapped her conflutements an' low, 'What in de worl'!  Aunt
+Minervy Ann, go ter de do.'
+
+"Well, suh, I went, but I ain't had no heart in it, bekaze I ain't know
+who it mought be, an' whar dey come fum, an' what dey want.  But I
+went.  'Twuz me er Miss Vallie, an' I wan't gwine ter let dat chile go,
+not dat time er night, dough 'twa'n't so mighty late.
+
+"I open de do' on de crack, I did, an' low, 'Who dat?' Somebody make
+answer, 'Is de Major in, Aunt Minervy Ann?' an' I know'd right den it
+wuz Marse Paul Conant.  An' it come over me dat he had sump'n ter do
+wid sendin' er dem contraptions, mo' 'speshually dat ar bob-tail hoss.
+An' den, too, suh, lots quicker'n I kin tell it, hit come over me dat
+he been axin' me lots 'bout Miss Vallie.  All come 'cross my min', suh,
+whiles I pullin' de do' open.
+
+"I low, I did, 'No, suh; Marse Tumlin gone down town fer ter look atter
+some business, but he sho ter come back terreckly.  Won't you come in,
+suh, an' wait fer 'im?'  He sorter flung his head back an' laugh, saft
+like, an' say, 'I don't keer ef I do, Aunt Minervy Ann.'
+
+"I low, 'Walk right in de parlor, suh, an' I'll make a light mos' 'fo'
+you kin turn 'roun'.  He come in, he did, an' I lit de lamp, an' time I
+lit 'er she 'gun ter smoke.  Well, suh, he tuck dat lamp, run de wick
+up an' down a time er two, an' dar she wuz, bright ez day.
+
+"When I went back in de room whar Miss Vallie wuz at, she wuz stan'in'
+dar lookin' skeer'd.  She say, 'Who dat?' I 'low, 'Hit's Marse Paul
+Conant, dat's who 'tis.'  She say, 'What he want?'  I low, 'Nothin'
+much; he does come a-courtin'.  Better jump up an' not keep 'im
+waitin'.'
+
+"Well, suh, you could 'a' knock'd 'er down wid a fedder.  She stood dar
+wid 'er han' on 'er th'oat takin' short breffs, des like a little bird
+does when it flies in de winder an' dunner how ter fly out ag'in.
+
+"Bimeby, she say, 'Aunt Minervy Ann, you ought ter be 'shame or
+yo'se'f!  I know dat man when I see 'im, an' dat's all.'  I low,
+'Honey, you know mighty well he ain't come callin'.  But he wanter see
+Marse Tumlin, an' dey ain't nothin' fer ter hender you fum gwine in dar
+an' makin' 'im feel at home whiles he waitin'.'  She sorter study
+awhile, an' den she blush up.  She say, 'I dunno whedder I ought ter.'
+
+"Well, suh, dat settled it.  I know'd by de way she look an' talk dat
+she don't need no mo' 'swadin'.  I say, 'All right, honey, do ez you
+please; but it's yo' house; you er de mist'iss; an' it'll look mighty
+funny ef dat young man got ter set in dar by hisse'f an' look at de
+wall whiles he waitin' fer Marse Tumlin.  I dunner what he'll say, kaze
+I ain't never hear 'im talk 'bout nobody; but I know mighty well he'll
+do a heap er thinkin'.'
+
+"Des like I tell you, suh--she skipped 'roun' dar, an' flung on 'er
+Sunday frock, shuck out 'er curls, an' sorter fumble' 'roun' wid some
+ribbons, an' dar she wuz, lookin' des ez fine ez a fiddle, ef not
+finer.  Den she swep' inter de parlor, an', you mayn't blieve it, suh,
+but she mighty nigh tuck de man's breff 'way.  Mon, she wuz purty, an'
+she ain't do no mo' like deze eve'y-day gals dan nothin'.  When she
+start 'way fum me, she wuz a gal.  By de time she walk up de hall an'
+sweep in dat parlor, she wuz a grown 'oman.  De blush what she had on
+at fust stayed wid 'er an' look like 't wuz er natchual color, an' her
+eyes shine, suh, like she had fire in um.  I peeped at 'er, suh, fum
+behime de curtains in de settin'-room, an' I know what I'm talkin'
+'bout.  It's de Lord's trufe, suh, ef de men folks could tote derse'f
+like de wimmen, an' do one way whiles dey feelin' annuder way, dey
+wouldn't be no livin' in de worl'.  You take a school gal, suh, an' she
+kin fool de smartest man what ever trod shoe leather.  He may talk wid
+'er all day an' half de night, an' he never is ter fin' out what she
+thinkin' 'bout.  Sometimes de gals fools deyse'f, suh, but dat's mighty
+seldom.
+
+"I dunner what all dey say, kaze I ain't been in dar so mighty long
+'fo' I wuz nodding but I did hear Marse Paul say he des drapt in fer
+'pollygize 'bout a little joke he played on Marse Tumlin.  Miss Vallie
+ax what wuz de joke, an' he low dat Marse Tumlin wuz banterin' folks
+fer ter buy his wil' lan'; an' Marse Paul ax 'im what he take fer it,
+an' Marse Tumlin low he'll take anything what he can chaw, sop, er
+drink.  Dem wuz de words---chaw, sop, er drink.  Wid dat, Marse Paul
+say he'd gi' 'im a box er terbarker, a bairl er syr'p, an' a kaig er
+peach brandy an' th'ow in his buggy-hoss fer good medjer.  Marse Tomlin
+say 'done' an' dey shuck han's on it.  Dat what Marse Paul tol' Miss
+Vallie, an he 'low he des done it fer fun, kaze he done looked inter
+dat wil' lan', an' he low she's wuff a pile er money.
+
+"Well, suh, 'bout dat time, I 'gun ter nod, an' de fus news I know'd
+Miss Vallie wuz whackin' 'way on de peanner, an' it look like ter me
+she wuz des tryin' 'erse'f.  By dat time, dey wuz gettin' right chummy,
+an' so I des curl up on de flo', an' dream dat de peanner chunes wuz
+comin' out'n a bairl des like lasses.
+
+"When I waked up, Marse Paul Conant done gone, an' Marse Tumlin ain't
+come, an' Miss Vallie wuz settin' dar in de parlor lookin' up at de
+ceilin' like she got some mighty long thoughts.  Her color wuz still
+up.  I look at 'er an' laugh, an' she made a mouf at me, an' I say ter
+myse'f, 'Hey! sump'n de matter here, sho,' but I say out loud, 'Marse
+Paul Conant sho gwine ter ax me ef you ain't had a dram.'  She laugh
+an' say, 'What answer you gwine ter make?'  I low, 'I'll bow an' say,
+"No, suh; I'm de one dat drinks all de dram fer de fambly."'
+
+"Well, suh, dat chile sot in ter laughin', an' she laugh an' laugh twel
+she went inter highsterics.  She wuz keyed up too high, ez you mought
+say, an' dat's de way she come down agin.  Bimeby, Marse Tumlin come,
+an' Miss Vallie, she tol' 'm 'bout how Marse Paul done been dar; an' he
+sot dar, he did, an' hummed an' haw'd, an' done so funny dat, bimeby, I
+low, 'Well, folks, I'll hatter tell you good-night,' an' wid dat I went
+out."
+
+At this point Aunt Minervy leaned forward, clasped her hands over her
+knees, and shook her head.  When she took up the thread of her
+narrative, if it can be called such, the tone of her voice was more
+subdued, almost confidential, in fact.
+
+"Nex' mornin' wuz my wash-day, suh, an' 'bout ten o'clock, when I got
+ready, dey want no bluin' in de house an' mighty little soap.  I hunted
+high an' I hunted low, but no bluin' kin I fin'.  An' dat make me mad,
+bekaze ef I hatter go down town atter de bluin', my wash-day'll be
+broke inter.  But 'tain't no good fer ter git mad, bekaze I wuz bleeze
+ter go atter de bluin'.  So I tighten up my head-hankcher, an' flung a
+cape on my shoulders an' put out.
+
+"I 'speck you know how 'tis, suh.  You can't go down town but what
+you'll see nigger wimmen stan'in' out in de front yards lookin' over de
+palin's.  Dey all know'd me an' I know'd dem, an' de las' blessed one
+un um hatter hail me ez I go by, an' I hatter stop an' pass de time er
+day, kaze ef I'd 'a' whipt on by, dey'd 'a' said I wuz gwine back bofe
+on my church an' on my color.  I dunner how long dey kep' me, but time
+I got ter Proctor's sto', I know'd I'd been on de way too long.
+
+"I notice a crowd er men out dar, some settin' an' some stan'in', but I
+run'd in, I did, an' de young man what do de clerkin', he foller me in
+an' ax what I want.  I say I want a dime's wuff er bluin', an' fer ter
+please, suh, wrop it up des ez quick ez he kin.  I tuck notice dat
+while he wuz gittin' it out'n de box, he sorter stop like he lis'nin'
+an' den agin, whiles he had it in de scoop des ready fer ter drap it in
+de scales, he held his han' an' wait.  Den I know'd he wuz lis'nin'.
+
+"Dat makes me lis'n, an' den I hear Marse Tumlin talkin', an' time I
+hear 'im I know'd he wuz errytated.  Twa'n't bekaze he wuz talkin'
+loud, suh, but 'twuz bekaze he wuz talkin' level.  When he talk loud,
+he feelin' good.  When he talk low, an' one word soun' same ez anudder,
+den somebody better git out'n his way.  I lef' de counter an' step ter
+de do' fer ter see what de matter wuz betwix' um.
+
+"Well, suh, dar wuz Marse Tumlin stan'in' dar close ter Tom Ferryman.
+Marse Tumlin, low, 'Maybe de law done 'pinted you my gyardeen.  How you
+know I been swindled?' Tom Ferryman say, 'Bekaze I hear you say he
+bought yo' wil' lan' fer a little er nothin'.  He'll swindle you ef you
+trade wid 'im, an' you done trade wid 'im.'  Marse Tumlin low, 'Is Paul
+Conant ever swindle _you_?'  Tom Ferryman say, 'No, he ain't, an' ef he
+wuz ter I'd give 'im a kickin'.'  Marse Tumlin low, 'Well, you know you
+is a swindler, an' nobody ain't kick you.  How come dat?'  Tom Ferryman
+say, 'Ef you say I'm a swindler, you're a liar.'
+
+"Well, suh, de man ain't no sooner say dat dan _bang_! went Marse
+Tumlin's pistol, an' des ez it banged Marse Paul Conant run 'twix' um,
+an' de ball went right spang th'oo de collar-bone an' sorter sideways
+th'oo de pint er de shoulder-blade.  Marse Tumlin drapt his pistol an'
+cotch 'im ez he fell an' knelt down dar by 'im, an' all de time dat ar
+Tom Ferryman wuz stan'in' right over um wid his pistol in his han'.  I
+squall out, I did, 'Whyn't some er you white men take dat man pistol
+'way fum 'im?  Don't you see what he fixin' ter do?'
+
+"I run'd at 'im, an' he sorter flung back wid his arm, an' when he done
+dat somebody grab 'im fum behind.  All dat time Marse Tumlin wuz axin'
+Marse Paul Conant ef he hurt much.  I hear 'im say, 'I wouldn't 'a'
+done it fer de worl', Conant--not fer de worl'.'  Den de doctor, he
+come up, an' Marse Tumlin, he pester de man twel he hear 'im say,
+'Don't worry, Major; dis boy'll live ter be a older man dan you ever
+will.'  Den Marse Tumlin got his pistol an' hunt up an' down fer dat ar
+Tom Ferryman, but he done gone.  I seed 'im when he got on his hoss.
+
+"I say to Marse Tumlin, 'Ain't you des ez well ter fetch Marse Paul
+Conant home whar we all kin take keer uv 'im?'  He low, 'Dat's a
+_fack_.  Go home an' tell yo' Miss Vallie fer ter have de big room
+fixed up time we git dar wid 'im.'  I say, 'Humph!  I'll fix it myse'f;
+I know'd I ain't gwine ter let Miss Vallie do it.'
+
+"Well, suh, 'tain't no use fer ter tell yer de rest.  Dar's dat ar baby
+in dar, an' what mo' sign does you want ter show you dat it all turned
+out des like one er dem ol'-time tales?"
+
+
+
+
+A KENTUCKY CINDERELLA
+
+By F. HOPKINSON SMITH
+
+Copyright 1899 by F. Hopkinson Smith.
+
+
+I was bending over my easel, hard at work upon a full-length portrait
+of a young girl in a costume of fifty years ago, when the door of my
+studio opened softly and Aunt Chloe came in.
+
+"Good-mawnin', suh!  I didn' think you'd come to-day, bein' a Sunday,"
+she said, with a slight bend of her knees.  "I'll jes' sweep up a lil
+mite; doan' ye move, I won't 'sturb ye."
+
+Aunt Chloe had first opened my door a year before with a note from
+Marny, a brother brush, which began with "Here is an old Southern mammy
+who has seen better days; paint her if you can," and ended with, "Any
+way, give her a job."
+
+The bearer of the note was indeed the ideal mammy, even to the bandanna
+handkerchief bound about her head, and the capacious waist and ample
+bosom--the lullaby resting-place for many a child, white and black.  I
+had never seen a real one in the flesh before.  I had heard about them
+in my earlier days.  Daddy Billy, my father's body servant and my
+father's slave, who lived to be ninety-four, had told me of his own
+Aunt Mirey, who had died in the old days, but too far back for me to
+remember.  And I had listened, when a boy, to the traditions connected
+with the plantations of my ancestors,--of the Keziahs and Mammy
+Crouches and Mammy Janes,--but I had never looked into the eyes of one
+of the old school until I saw Aunt Chloe, nor had I ever fully realized
+how quaintly courteous and gentle one of them could be until, with an
+old-time manner, born of a training seldom found outside of the old
+Southern homes, she bent forward, spread her apron with both hands, and
+with a little backward dip had said as she left me that first day:
+"Thank ye, suh!  I'll come eve'y Sunday mawnin'.  I'll do my best to
+please ye, an' I specs I kin."
+
+I do not often work on Sunday, but my picture had been too long delayed
+waiting for a faded wedding dress worn once by the original when she
+was a bride, and which had only been found when two of her descendants
+had ransacked their respective garrets.
+
+"Mus' be mighty driv, suh," she said, "a workin' on de Sabbath day.
+Golly, but dat's a purty lady!" and she put down her pail.  "I see it
+las' Sunday when I come in, but she didn't had dem ruffles 'round her
+neck den dat you done gib her.  'Clar' to goodness, dat chile look like
+she was jes' a-gwine to speak."
+
+Aunt Chloe was leaning on her broom, her eyes scrutinizing the portrait.
+
+"Well, if dat doan' beat de lan'.  I ain't never seen none o' dem
+frocks since de ole times.  An' dem lil low shoes wid de ribbons
+crossed on de ankles!  She's de livin' pussonecation--she is so, for a
+fac'.  Uhm!  Uh!"  (It is difficult to convey this peculiar sound of
+complete approval in so many letters.)
+
+"Did you ever know anybody like her?" I asked.
+
+The old woman straightened her back, and for a moment her eyes looked
+into mine.  I had often tried to draw from her something of her earlier
+life, but she had always evaded my questions.  Marny had told me that
+his attempts had at first been equally disappointing.
+
+"Body as ole's me, suh, seen a plenty o' people."  Then her eyes sought
+the canvas again.
+
+After a moment's pause she said, as if to herself: "You's de real
+quality, chile, dat you is; eve'y spec an' spinch o' ye."
+
+I tried again.
+
+"Does it look like anybody you ever saw, Aunt Chloe?"
+
+"It do an' it don't," she answered critically.  "De feet is like hern,
+but de eyes ain't."
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Oh, Miss Nannie."  And she leaned again on her broom and looked down
+on the floor.
+
+I heaped up a little pile of pigments on one corner of my palette and
+flattened them for a high light on a fold in the satin gown.
+
+"Who was Miss Nannie?" I asked carelessly.  I was afraid the thread
+would break if I pulled too hard.
+
+"One o' my chillen, honey."  A peculiar softness came into her voice.
+
+"Tell me about her.  It will help me get her eyes right, so you can
+remember her better.  They don't look human enough to me anyhow" (this
+last to myself).  "Where did she live?"
+
+"Where dey all live---down in de big house.  She warn't Marse Henry's
+real chile, but she come o' de blood.  She didn't hab dem kind o' shoes
+on her footses when I fust see her, but she wore 'em when she lef' me.
+Dat she did."  Her voice rose suddenly and her eyes brightened.  "And
+dem ain't nothin' to de way dey shined.  I ain't never seen no satin
+slippers shine like dem slippers; dey was jes' ablaze!"
+
+I worked on in silence.  Marny had cautioned me not to be too curious.
+Some day she might open her heart and tell me wonderful stories of her
+earlier life, but I must not appear too anxious.  She had become rather
+suspicious of strangers since she had moved North and lost track of her
+own people, Marny had said.
+
+Aunt Chloe picked up her pail and began moving some easels into a far
+corner of my studio and piling the chairs in a heap.  This done, she
+stopped again and stood behind me, looking intently at the canvas over
+my shoulder.
+
+"My!  My! ain't dat de ve'y image of dat frock?  I kin see it now jes'
+as Miss Nannie come down de stairs.  But you got to put dat gold chain
+on it 'fore it gits to be de ve'y 'spress image.  I had it roun' my own
+neck once; I knew jes' how it looked."
+
+I laid down my palette, and picking up a piece of chalk asked her to
+describe it so that I could make an outline.
+
+"It was long an' heavy, an' it woun' roun' de neck twice an' hung down
+to de wais'.  An' dat watch on de end of it!  Well, I ain't seen none
+like dat one sence.  I 'clar' to ye it was jes' 's teeny as one o' dem
+lil biscuits I used to make for 'er when she come in de kitchen--an'
+she was dere most of de time.  Dey didn't care nuffin for her much.
+Let 'er go roun' barefoot half de time, an' her hair a-flyin'.  Only
+one good frock to her name, an' dat warn't nuffin but calico.  I used
+to wash dat many a time for her long 'fore she was outen her bed.
+Allus makes my blood bile to dis day whenever I think of de way dey
+treated dat chile.  But it didn't make no diff'ence what she had
+on--shoes or no shoes--her footses was dat lil.  An' purty!  Wid her
+big eyes an' her cheeks jes' 's fresh as dem rosewater roses dat I used
+to snip off for ole Sam to put on de table.  Oh! I tell ye, if ye could
+picter her like dat dey wouldn't be nobody clear from here to glory
+could come nigh her."
+
+Aunt Chloe's eyes were kindling with every word.  I remembered Marny's
+warning and kept stil.  I had abandoned the sketch of the chain as an
+unnecessary incentive, and had begun again with my palette knife,
+pottering away, nodding appreciatingly, and now and then putting a
+question to clear up some tangled situation as to dates and localities
+which her rambling talk had left unsettled.
+
+"Yes, suh, down in the blue grass country, near Lexin'ton, Kentucky,
+whar my ole master, Marse Henry Gordon, lived," she answered to my
+inquiry as to where this all happened.  "I used to go eve'y year to see
+him after de war was over, an' kep' it up till he died.  Dere warn't
+nobody like him den, an' dere ain't none now.  He warn't never spiteful
+to chillen, white or black.  Eve'ybody knowed dat.  I was a pickaninny
+myse'f, an' I belonged to him.  An' he ain't never laid a lick on me,
+an' he wouldn't let nobody else do 't nuther, 'cept my mammy.  I
+'members one time when Aunt Dinah made cake dat ole Sam--he war a heap
+younger den--couldn't put it on de table 'ca'se dere was a piece broke
+out'n it.  Sam he riz, an' Dinah she riz, an' after dey'd called each
+other all de names dey could lay dere tongues to, Miss Ann, my own fust
+mist'ess, come in an' she say dem chillen tuk dat cake, an' 't ain't
+nary one o' ye dat's 'sponsible.  'What's dis,' says Marse
+Henry--'chillen stealin' cake?  Send 'em here to me!'  When we all come
+in--dere was six or eight of us--he says, 'Eve'y one o' ye look me in
+de eye; now which one tuk it?'  I kep' lookin' away,--fust on de flo'
+an' den out de windy.  'Look at me,' he says agin.  'You ain't lookin',
+Clorindy.'  Den I cotched him watchin' me.  'Now you all go out,' he
+says, 'and de one dat's guilty kin come back agin.'  Den we all went
+out in de yard.  'You tell him,' says one.  'No, you tell him;' an'
+dat's de way it went on.  I knowed I was de wustest, for I opened de
+door o' de sideboard an' gin it to de others.  Den I thought, if I
+don't tell him mebbe he'll lick de whole passel on us, an' dat ain't
+right; but if I go tell him an' beg his 'umble pardon he might lemme
+go.  So I crep' 'round where he was a-settin' wid his book on his
+knee,"--Aunt Chloe was now moving stealthily behind me, her eyes fixed
+on her imaginary master, head down, one finger in her mouth,--"an' I
+say, 'Marse Henry!'  An' he look up an' say, 'Who's dat?'  An' I say,
+'Dat's Clorindy.'  An' he say, 'What you want?'  'Marse Henry, I come
+to tell ye I was hungry, an' I see de door open an' I shove it back an'
+tuk de piece o' cake, an' I thought maybe if I done tole ye you'd
+forgib me.'
+
+"'Den you is de ringleader,' he says, 'an' you tempted de other
+chillen?'  'Yes,' I says, 'I 'spec' so.'  'Well,' he says, lookin' down
+on de carpet, 'now dat you has perfessed an' beg pardon, you is good
+an' ready to pay 'tention to what I'm gwine to say.'  De other chillen
+had sneaked up an' was listenin'; dey 'spected to see me git it, though
+dere ain't nary one of 'em ever knowed him to strike 'em a lick.  Den
+he says: 'Dis here is a lil thing,--dis stealin' a cake; an' it's a big
+thing at de same time.  Miss Ann has been right smart put out 'bout it,
+an' I'm gwine to see dat it don't happen agin.  If you see a pin on de
+fl'or you wouldn't steal it,--you'd pick it up if you wanted it, an' it
+wouldn't be nuffin, 'cause somebody th'owed it away an' it was free to
+eve'body; but if you see a piece o' money on de fl'or, you knowed
+nobody didn't th'ow dat away, an' if you pick it up an' don't tell,
+dat's somethin' else--dat's stealin', 'cause you tuk somethin' dat
+somebody else has paid somethin' for an' dat belongs to him.  Now dis
+cake ain't o' much 'count, but it warn't yourn, an' you oughtn't to ha'
+tuk it.  If you'd asked yo'r mist'ess for it she'd gin you a piece.
+There ain't nuffin here you chillen doan' git when ye ask for it.'  I
+didn't say nuffin more.  I jes' waited for him to do anythin' he wanted
+to me.  Den he looks at de carpet for a long time an' he says:--
+
+"'I reckon you won't take no mo' cake 'thout askin' for it, Clorindy,
+an' you chillen kin go out an' play agin.'"
+
+The tears were now standing in her eyes.
+
+"Dat's what my ole master was, suh; I ain't never forgot it.  If he had
+beat me to death he couldn't 'a' done no mo' for me.  He jes' splained
+to me an' I ain't never forgot since."
+
+"Did your own mother find it out?" I asked.
+
+The tears were gone now; her face was radiant again at my question.
+
+"Dat she did, suh.  One o' de chillen done tole on me.  Mammy jes' made
+one grab as I run pas' de kitchen door, an' reached for a barrel stave,
+an' she fairly sot--me--afire!"
+
+Aunt Chloe was now holding her sides with laughter, fresh tears
+streaming down her cheeks.
+
+"But Marse Henry never knowed it.  Lawd, suh, dere ain't nobody round
+here like him, nor never was.  I kin 'member him now same as it was
+yesterday, wid his white hair, an' he a-settin' in his big chair.  It
+was de las' time I ever see him.  De big house was gone, an' de colored
+people was gone, an' he was dat po' he didn't know where de nex'
+moufful was a-comin' from.  I come out behind him so,"--Aunt Chloe made
+me her old master and my stool his rocking-chair,--"an' I pat him on
+the shoulder dis way, an' he say, 'Chloe, is dat you?  How is it yo'
+looks so comfble like?'  An' I say, 'It's you, Marse Henry; you done it
+all; yo' teachin' made me what I is, an' if you study about it you'll
+know it's so.  An' de others ain't no wus'.  Of all de colored people
+you owned, dere ain't nary one been hung, or been in de penitentiary,
+nor ain't knowed as liars.  Dat's de way you fotch us up.'
+
+"An' I love him yet, an' if he was a-livin' to-day I'd work for him an'
+take care of him if I went hungry myse'f.  De only fool thing Marster
+Henry ever done was a-marryin' dat widow woman for his second wife.
+Miss Nannie, dat looks a lil bit like dat chile you got dere before
+ye"--and she pointed to the canvas--"wouldn't a been sot on an' 'bused
+like she was but for her.  Dat woman warn't nuffin but a harf-strainer
+noway, if I do say it.  Eve'body knowed dat.  How Marse Henry Gordon
+come to marry her nobody don't know till dis day.  She warn't none o'
+our people.  Dey do say dat he met her up to Frankfort when he was in
+de Legislator, but I don't know if dat's so.  But she warn't nuffin,
+nohow."
+
+"Was Miss Nannie her child?" I asked, stepping back from my easel to
+get the better effect of my canvas.
+
+"No suh, dat she warn't!" with emphasis.  "She was Marse Henry's own
+sister's chile, she was.  Her people--Miss Nannie's--lived up in
+Indiany, an' dey was jes' 's po' as watermelon rinds, and when her
+mother died Marse Henry sent for her to come live wid him, 'cause he
+said Miss Rachel--dat was dat woman's own chile by her fust
+husband--was lonesome.  Dey was bofe about de one age,--fo'teen or
+fifteen years old,--but Lawd-a-massy!  Miss Rachel warn't lonesome
+'cept for what he couldn't git, an' she most broke her heart 'bout dat,
+much 's she could break it 'bout anything.
+
+"I remember de ve'y day Miss Nannie come.  I see her comin' down de
+road totin' a big ban'box, an' a carpet bag mos 's big 's herse'f.  Den
+she turned in de gate.  ''Fo' God,' I says to ole Sam, who was settin'
+de table for dinner, 'who's dis yere comin' in?'  Den I see her stop
+an' set de bundles down an' catch her bref, and den she come on agin.
+
+"'Dat's Marse Henry's niece,' he says.  'I heared de mistress say she
+was a-comin' one day dis week by de coach.'
+
+"I see right away dat dat woman was up to one of her tricks; she didn't
+'tend to let dat chile come no other way 'cept like a servant; she was
+dat dirt mean.
+
+"Oh, you needn't look, suh!  I ain't meanin' no onrespect, but I knowed
+dat woman when Marse Henry fust married her, an' she ain't never fooled
+me once.  Fust time she come into de house she walked plumb in de
+kitchen, where me an' old Sam an' ole Dinah was a-eaten our dinner, we
+setten at de table like we useter did, and she flung her head up in de
+air and she says: 'After dis when I come in I want you niggers to git
+up on yo' feet.'  Think o' dat, will ye?  Marse Henry never called nary
+one of us nigger since we was pickaninnies.  I knowed den she warn't
+'customed to nuthin'.  But I tell ye she never put on dem kind o' airs
+when Marse Henry was about.  No, suh.  She was always mighty sugar-like
+to him when he was home, but dere ain't no conniption she warn't up to
+when he couldn't hear of it.  She had purty nigh riz de roof when he
+done tell her dat Miss Nannie was a-comin' to live wid 'em, but she
+couldn't stand agin him, for warn't her only daughter, Miss Rachel,
+livin' on him, an' not only Miss Rachel, but lots mo' of her people
+where she come from?
+
+"Well, suh, as soon as ole Sam said what chile it was dat was a-comin'
+down de road I dropped my dishcloth an' I run out to meet 'er.
+
+"'Is you Miss Nannie?' I says.  'Gimme dat bag,' I says, 'an' dat box.'
+
+"'Yes,' she says, 'dat's me, an' ain't you Aunt Chloe what I heared so
+much about?'
+
+"Honey, you ain't never gwine to git de kind o' look on dat picter
+you's workin' on dere, suh, as sweet as dat chile's face when she said
+dat to me.  I loved her from dat fust minute I see her, an' I loved her
+ever since, jes' as I loved her mother befo' her.
+
+"When she got to de house, me a-totin' de things on behind, de mist'ess
+come out on de po'ch.
+
+"'Oh, dat's you, is it, Nannie?' she says.  'Well, Chloe'll tell ye
+where to go,' an' she went straight in de house agin.  Never kissed
+her, nor touched her, nor nuffin!
+
+"Ole Sam was bilin'.  He heard her say it, an' if he was alive he'd
+tell ye same as me.
+
+"'Where's she gwine to sleep?' I says, callin' after her; 'upstairs
+long wid Miss Rachel?'  I was gittin' hot myse'f, though I didn't say
+nuffin.
+
+"'No,' she says, flingin' up her head like a goat; 'my daughter needs
+all de room she's got.  You kin take her downstairs an' fix up a place
+for her longside o' you an' Dinah.' She was de old cook.
+
+"'Come long,' I says, 'Miss Nannie,' an' I dropped a curtsey same's if
+she was a princess.  An' so she was, an' Marse Henry's own eyes in her
+head, an' 'nough like him to be his own chile.  'I'll hab ev'ything
+ready for ye,' I says.  'You wait here an' take de air,' an' I got a
+chair an' sot her down on de po'ch, an' ole Sam brung her some cake,
+an' I went to git de room ready--de room offn de kitchen pantry, where
+dey puts de overseer's chillen when dey come to see him.
+
+"Purty soon Miss Rachel come down an' went up an' kissed her--dat is,
+Sam said so, though I ain't never seen her kiss her dat time nor no
+other time.  Miss Rachel an' de mist'ess was bofe split out o' de same
+piece o' kindlin', an' what one was agin t' other was agin--a blind man
+could see dat Miss Rachel never liked Miss Nannie from de fust, she was
+dat cross-grained and pernicketty.  No matter what Miss Nannie done to
+please her it warn't good 'nough for her.  Why, do you know, when de
+other chillen come over from de nex' plantation Miss Rachel wouldn't
+send for Miss Nannie to come in de parlor.  No, suh, dat she wouldn't!
+An' dey'd run off an' leave her, too, when dey was gwine picknickin',
+an' treat dat chile owdacious, sayin' she was po' white trash, an'
+charity chile, an' things like dat, till I would go an' tell Marse
+Henry 'bout it.  Den dere would be a 'ruction, an' Marse Henry'd blaze
+out, an' jes 's soon's he was off agin to Frankfort--an' he was dere
+mos' of de time, for he was one o' dese yere ole-timers dat dey
+couldn't git long widout at de Legislator--dey'd treat her wus'n ever.
+Soon's Dinah an' me see dat, we kep' Miss Nannie long wid us much as we
+could.  She'd eat wid 'em when dere warn't no company 'round, but dat
+was 'bout all."
+
+"Did they send her to school?" I asked, fearing she would again lose
+the thread.  My picture had a new meaning for me now that it looked
+like her heroine.
+
+"No, suh, dat dey didn't, 'cept to de schoolhouse at de cross-roads
+whar everybody's chillen went.  But dey sent Miss Rachel to a real
+highty-tighty school, dat dey did, down to Louisville.  Two winters she
+was dere, an' eve'y time when she come home for holiday times she had
+mo' airs dan when she went away.  Marse Henry wanted bofe chillen to
+go, but dat woman outdid him, an' she faced him up an' down dat dere
+warn't money 'nough for two, an' dat her daughter was de fittenest, an'
+all dat, an' he give in.  I didn't hear it, but ole Sam did, an' his
+han' shook so he mos' spilt de soup.  But law, honey, dat didn't make
+no diff'ence to Miss Nannie.  She'd go off by herse'f wid her books an'
+sit all day under de trees, an' sing to herse'f jes' like a bird, an'
+dey'd sing to her, an' all dat time her face was a-beamin' an' her hair
+shinin' like gold, an' she a-growin' taller, an' her eyes gittin'
+bigger an' bigger, an' brighter, an' her little footses white an'
+cunnin' as a rabbit's.
+
+"De only place whar she did go outside de big house was over to Mis'
+Morgan's, who lived on de nex' plantation.  Miss Morgan didn't hab no
+chillen of her own, an' she'd send for Miss Nannie to come an' keep her
+company, she was dat dead lonesome, an' dey was glad 'nough to let dat
+chile go so dey could git her out o' de house.  Ole Sam allers said
+dat, for he heared 'em talk at table an' knowed what was gwine on.
+
+"Purty soon long come de time when Miss Rachel done finish her
+eddication, an' she come back to de big house an' sot herse'f up to
+'ceive company.  She warn't bad lookin' in dem days, I mus' say, an' if
+dat woman's sperit hadn't 'a' been in her she might 'a' pulled through.
+But dere warn't no fetching up could stand agin dat blood.  Miss Rachel
+'d git dat ornery dat you could n't do nuffin wid her, jes' like her
+maw.  De fust real out-an'-out beau she had was Dr. Tom Boling.  He
+lived 'bout fo'teen miles out o' Lexin'ton on de big plantation, an'
+was de richest young man in our parts.  His paw had died 'bout two
+years befo' an' lef' him mo' money dan he could th'ow away, an' he'd
+jes' come back from Philadelphy, whar he'd been a-learnin' to be a
+doctor.  He met Miss Rachel at a party in Louisville, an' de fust
+Sunday she come home he driv over to see her.  If ye could 'a' seen de
+mist'ess when she see him comin' in de gate!  All in his ridin' boots
+an' his yaller breeches an' bottle-green coat, an' his servant a-ridin'
+behind to hold de horses.
+
+"Ole Sam an' me was a-watchin' de mist'ess peekin' th'ough de blind at
+him, her eyes a-blazin', an' Sam laughed so he had to stuff a napkin in
+his mouf to keep 'er from hearin' him.  Well, suh, dat went on all de
+summer.  Eve'y time he come de mist'ess 'd be dat sweet mos' make a
+body sick to see her, an' when he'd stay away she was dat pesky dere
+warn't no livin' wid her.  Of co'se dere was plenty mo' gemmen co'rting
+Miss Rachel, too, but none o' dem didn't count wid de mist'ess 'cept de
+doctor, 'cause he was rich, dat's all dere was to 't, 'cause he was
+rich.  I tell ye ole Sam had to tell many a lie to the other gemmen,
+sayin' Miss Rachel was sick or somethin' else when she was a-waitin'
+for de doctor to come, and was feared he might meet some of 'em an' git
+skeered away.
+
+"Miss Nannie, she'd watch him, too, from behind de kitchen door, or
+scrunched down lookin' over de pantry winder sill, an' den she'd tell
+Dinah an' me what he did, an' how he got off his horse an' han' de
+reins to de boy, an' slap his boots wid his ridin' whip, like he was
+a-dustin' off a fly.  An' she'd act it all out for me an' Dinah, an'
+slap her own frock, an' den she'd laugh fit to kill herse'f an' dance
+all 'round de kitchen.  Would yo' believe it?  No! dere ain't nobody 'd
+believe it.  Dey never asked her to come in once while he was in de
+parlor, an' dey never once tole him dat Miss Nannie was a-livin' on de
+top side o' de yearth!
+
+"Co'se people 'gin to talk, an' ev'ybody said dat Dr. Boling was
+gittin' nighest de coon, an' dat fust thing dey'd know dere would be a
+weddin' in de Gordon fambly.  An' den agin dere was plenty mo' people
+said he was only passin' de time wid Miss Rachel, an' dat he come to
+see Marse Henry to talk pol'tics.
+
+"Well, one day, suh, I was a-standin' in de door an' I see him come in
+a-foot, widout his horse an' servant, an' step up on de po'ch quick an'
+rap at de do', like he say to himse'f, 'Lemme in; I'm in a hurry; I got
+somethin' on my mind.'  Ole Sam was jes' a-gwine to open de do' for him
+when Miss Nannie come a-runnin' in de kitchen from de yard, her cheeks
+like de roses, her hair a-flyin', an' her big hat hangin' to a string
+down her back.  I gin Sam one look an' he stopped, an' I says to Miss
+Nannie, 'Run, honey,' I says, 'an' open de do' for ole Sam; I spec',' I
+says, 'it's one o' dem peddlers.'
+
+"If you could 'a' seen dat chile's face when she come back!"
+
+Aunt Chloe's hands were now waving above her head, her mouth wide open
+in her merriment, every tooth shining.
+
+"She was white one minute an' red as a beet the nex'.  'Oh, Aunt Chloe,
+what did you let me go for?' she says.  'Oh!  I wouldn't 'a' let him
+see me like dis for anythin' in de wo'ld.  Oh, I'm dat put out.'
+
+"'What did he say to ye, honey?' I says.
+
+"'He didn't say nuffin; he jes' look at me an' say he beg my pardon,
+an' was Miss Rachel in, an' den I said I'd run an' tell her, an' when I
+come downstairs agin he was a-standin' in de hall wid his eyes up de
+staircase, an' he never stopped lookin' at me till I come down.'
+
+"'Well, dat won't do you no harm, chile,' I says; 'a cat kin look at a
+king.'
+
+"Ole Sam was a-watchin' her, too, an' when she'd gone in her leetle
+room an' shet de do' Sam says, 'I'll lay if Marse Tom Boling had
+anythin' on his mind when he come here to-day it's mighty onsettled by
+dis time.'
+
+"Nex' time Dr. Tom Boling come he say to de mist'ess, 'Who's dat young
+lady,' he says, 'dat opened de door for me las' time I was here?  I
+hoped to see her agin.  Is she in?'
+
+"Den dey bofe cooked up some lie' bout her bein' over to Mis' Morgan's
+or somethin', an' as soon 's he was gone dey come down an' riz Sam for
+not 'tendin' de door an' lettin' dat ragged fly-away gal open it.  Den
+dey went for Miss Nannie till dey made her cry, an' she come to me, an'
+I took her in my lap an' comfo'ted her like I allers did.
+
+"De nex' time he come he says, 'I hear dat yo'r niece, Miss Nannie
+Barnes, is livin' wid you, an' dat she is ve'y 'sclusive.  I hope dat
+you'll 'suade her to come in de parlor,' he says.  Dem was his ve'y
+words.  Sam was a-standin' close to him as I am to you an' he heared
+him.
+
+"'She ain't yet in s'ciety,' de mist'ess says, 'an' she's dat wild dat
+we can't p'esent her.'
+
+"'Oh! is dat so?' he says.  'Is she in now?'
+
+"'No,' she says, 'she's over to Mis' Morgan's.'
+
+"Dat was a fac' dis time; she'd gone dat very mawnin'.  Den Miss Rachel
+come down, an' co'se Sam didn't hear no mo' 'cause he had to go out.
+Purty soon out de doctor come.  Dese visits, min' ye, was gittin'
+shorter an' shorter, though he do come as often, an' over he goes to
+Mis' Morgan's hisse'f.
+
+"Now I doan' know what he said to Miss Nannie, or what passed 'twixt
+'em, 'cause she didn't tell me.  Only dat she said he had come to see
+Mis' Morgan 'bout some land matters, an' dat Mis' Morgan interjuced
+'em, but nuffin mo'.  Lord bless dat chile!  An', suh, dat was de fust
+time she ever kep' anythin' from her ole mammy.  Dat made me mo' glad
+'n ever.  I knowed den dey was bofe hit.
+
+"But my lah', de fur begin to fly when de mist'ess an' Miss Rachel
+heared 'bout dat visit!
+
+"'What you mean by makin' eyes at Dr. Boling?  Don't you know he's good
+as 'gaged to my daughter?' de mist'ess said.  Dat was a lie, for he
+never said a word to Miss Rachel; ole Sam could tole you dat.  'Git out
+o' my house, you good-for-nothin' pauper, an' take yo' rags wid ye.'
+
+"I see right away de fat was in de fire.  Marse Henry warn't 'spected
+home till de nex' Sunday, an' so I tuk her over to Mis' Morgan, an' den
+I ups an' tells her everything dat woman had done to dat chile since de
+day she come.  An' when I'd done she tuk Miss Nannie by de han' an' she
+says:--
+
+"'You won't never want a home, chile, so long as I live.  Go back,
+Chloe, an' git her clo'es.'  But I didn't git 'em.  I knowed Marse
+Henry 'd raise de roof when he come, an' he did, bless yo' heart.  Went
+over hisse'f an' got her, an' brought her home, an' dat night when Dr.
+Boling come he made her sit down in de parlor, an' 'fo' he went home
+dat night de Doctor he say to Marse Henry, 'I want yo' permission,
+Mister Gordon, to pay my addresses to Miss Nannie, yo' niece.'  Sam was
+a-standing close as he could git to de door, an' he heard ev'y word.
+Now he ain't never said dat, mind ye, to Marse Henry 'bout Miss Rachel!
+An' dat's why I know dat he warn't hit unto death wid her.
+
+"Well, do you know, suh, dat dat woman was dat owdacious she wouldn't
+let 'em see each other after dat 'cept on de front po'ch.  Wouldn't let
+'em come in de house; make 'em do all dere co'rtin' on de steps an' out
+at de paster gate.  De doctor would rare an' pitch an' git white in de
+face at de scandlous way dat Miss Barnes was bein' treated, until Miss
+Nannie put bofe her leetle han's on his'n, soothin' like, an' den he'd
+grab 'em an' kiss 'em like he'd eat 'em up.  Sam cotched him at it, an'
+done tole me; an' den dey'd sa'nter off down de po'ch, sayin' it was
+too hot or too cool, or dat dey was lookin' for birds' nests in de
+po'ch vines, till dey'd git to de far end, where de mist'ess nor Sam
+nor nobody else couldn't hear what dey was a-sayin' an' a-whisperin',
+an' dere dey'd sit fer hours.
+
+"But I tell ye de doctor had a hard time a-gittin' her even when Marse
+Henry gin his consent.  An' he never would 'a' got her if Miss Rachel,
+jes' for spite, I spec', hadn't 'a' took up wid Colonel Todhunter's son
+dat was a-co'rtin' on her too, an' run off an' married him.  Den Miss
+Nannie knowed she was free to follow her own heart.
+
+"I tell you it'd 'a' made ye cry yo' eyes out, suh, to see dat chile
+try an' fix herse'f up to meet him de days an' nights she knowed he was
+comin', an' she wid jes' one white frock to her name.  An' we all felt
+jes' as bad as her.  Dinah would wash it an' I'd smooth her hair, an'
+ole Sam 'd git her a fresh rose to put in her neck.
+
+"Purty soon de weddin' day was 'pinted, an' me an' Dinah an' ole Sam
+'gin to wonder how dat chile was a-gwine to git clo'es to be married
+in.  Sam heared ole marster ask dat same question at de table, an' he
+see him gib de mist'ess de money to buy 'em for her, an' de mist'ess
+said dat she reckoned 'Miss Nannie's people would want de privlege o'
+dressin' her now dat she was a-gwine to marry dat wo'thless young
+doctor, Tom Boling, dat nobody wouldn't hab in de house, but dat if dey
+didn't she'd gin her some of Miss Rachel's clo'es, an' if dem warn't
+'nough den she'd spen' de money to de best advantage.'  Dem was her
+ve'y words.  Sam heared her say 'em.  I knowed dat meant dat de chile
+would go naked, for she wouldn't a-worn none o' Miss Rachel's rubbish,
+an' not a cent would she git o' de money.  So I got dat ole white frock
+out, an' Dinah found a white ribbon in a ole trunk in de garret, an'
+washed an' ironed it to tie 'round her waist, an' Miss Nannie come an'
+look at it, an' when she see it de tears riz up in her eyes.
+
+"'Doan' you cry, chile,' I says.  'He ain't lovin' ye for yo' clo'es,
+an' never did.  Fust time he see ye yo' was purty nigh barefoot.  It's
+you he wants, not yo' frocks, honey;' an' den de sun come out in her
+face an' her eyes dried up, an' she 'gin to smile an' sing like a robin
+after de rain.
+
+"Purty soon long come Chris'mas time, an' me an' ole Sam an' Dinah was
+a-watchin' out to see what Marse Tom Boling was gwine to gin his bride,
+fur she was purty nigh dat, as dey was to be married de week after
+Chris'mas.  Well, suh, de mawnin' 'fore Chris'mas come, an' den de
+arternoon come, an' den de night come, an' mos' ev'y hour somebody sent
+somethin' for Miss Rachel, an' yet not one scrap of nuffin big as a
+chink-a-pin come for Miss Nannie.  Dinah an' me was dat onresless dat
+we couldn't sleep.  Miss Nannie didn't say nuffin when she went to bed,
+but I see a little shadder creep over her face an' I knowed right away
+what hurted her.
+
+"Well, de nex' mawnin'--Chris'mas mawnin' dat was--ole Sam come
+a-bustin' in de kitchen do', a-hollerin' loud as he could holler"--Aunt
+Chloe was now rocking herself back and forth, clapping her hands as she
+talked--"dat dere was a trunk on de front po'ch for Miss Nannie dat was
+dat heavy it tuk fo' niggers to lif it.  I run, an' Dinah run, an' when
+we got to de trunk mos' all de niggers was thick 'round it as flies,
+an' Miss Nannie was standin' over it readin' a card wid her name on it
+an' a 'scription sayin' dat it was 'a Chris'mas gif, wid de compliments
+of a friend.'  But who dat friend was, whether it was Marse Henry, who
+sent it dat way so dat woman wouldn't tear his hair out; or whether
+Mis' Morgan sent it, dat hadn't mo'n 'nough money to live on; or
+whether some of her own kin in Indiany, dat was dirt po', stole de
+money an' sent it; or whether de young Dr. Tom Doling, who had mo'
+money dan all de banks in Lexin'ton, done did it, don't nobody know
+till dis day, 'cept me an' ole Sam, an' we ain't tellin'.
+
+"But, my soul alive, de insides of dat trunk took de bref clean out o'
+de mist'ess an' Miss Rachel.  Sam opened it, an' I tuk out de things.
+Honey! dere was a weddin' dress all white satin dat would stand
+alone,--jes' de ve'y mate of de one you got in dat picter 'fore
+ye,--an' a change'ble silk, dat heavy! an' a plaid one, an' eve'ything
+a young lady could git on her back from her skin out, an' a
+thousand-dollar watch an' chain.  I wore dat watch myse'f; Miss Nannie
+was standin' by me, a-clappin' her han's an' laughin', an' when dat
+watch an' chain came out she jes' th'owed de chain over my neck an'
+stuck de leetle watch in my bosom, an' says, 'Dere, you dear ole mammy,
+go look at you'se'f in de glass an' see how fine you is.'
+
+"De nex' week come de weddin'.  I'll never forgit dat weddin' to my
+dyin' day.  Marse Tom Boling driv in wid a coach an' four an' two
+outriders, an' de horses wore white ribbons on dere ears; an' de
+coachman had flowers in his coat mos' big as his head, an' dey whirled
+up in front of de po'ch, an' out he stepped in his blue coat an' brass
+buttons an' a yaller wais'coat,--yaller as a gourd,--an' his bell-crown
+hat in his han'.  She was a-waitin' for him wid dat white satin dress
+on, an' de chain 'round her neck, an' her lil footses tied up wid silk
+ribbons de ve'y match o' dem you got pictered, an' her face shinin'
+like a angel.  An' all de niggers was a-standin' 'roun' de po'ch, dere
+eyes out'n dere heads, an' Marse Henry was dere in his new clo'es
+lookin' so grand, an' Sam in his white gloves, an' me in a new head
+han'chief.
+
+"Eve'body was happy 'cept one.  Dat one was de mist'ess, standin' in de
+door.  She wouldn't come out to de coach where de horses was a-champin'
+de bits an' de froth a-droppin' on de groun', an' she wouldn't speak to
+Marse Tom.  She kep' back in de do'way.
+
+"Miss Rachel was dat mean she wouldn't come downstairs.
+
+"Miss Nannie gib Marse Tom Boling her han' an' look up in his face like
+a queen, an' den she kissed Marse Henry, an' whispered somethin' in his
+ear dat nobody didn't hear, only de tears gin to jump out an' roll down
+his cheeks, an' den she looked de mist'ess full in de face, an' 'thout
+a word dropped her a low curtsey.
+
+"I come de las'.  She looked at me for a minute wid her eyes
+a-swimmin', an' den she th'owed her arms roun' my neck an' hugged an'
+kissed me, an' den I see an arm slip 'roun' her wais' an' lif her in de
+coach.  Den de horses 'gin a plunge an' dey was off.
+
+"An' arter dat dey had five years--de happiest years dem two ever seen.
+I know, 'cause Marse Henry gin me to her, an' I lived wid 'em day in
+an' day out till dat baby come, an' den--"
+
+Aunt Chloe stopped and reached out her hand as if to steady herself.
+The tears were streaming down her cheeks.
+
+Then she advanced a step, fixed her eyes on the portrait, and in a
+voice broken with emotion, said:--
+
+"Honey, chile,--honey, chile,--is you tired a-waitin' for yo' ole
+mammy?  Keep a-watchin', honey--keep a-watchin'--It won't be long now
+'fore I come.  Keep a-watchin'."
+
+
+
+
+BY THE WATERS OF PARADISE
+
+By F. MARION CRAWFORD
+
+Copyright 1894 by G. P. Putnam's Sons.
+
+
+I
+
+I remember my childhood very distinctly.  I do not think that the fact
+argues a good memory, for I have never been clever at learning words by
+heart, in prose or rhyme; so that I believe my remembrance of events
+depends much more upon the events themselves than upon my possessing
+any special facility for recalling them.  Perhaps I am too imaginative,
+and the earliest impressions I received were of a kind to stimulate the
+imagination abnormally.  A long series of little misfortunes, so
+connected with each other as to suggest a sort of weird fatality, so
+worked upon my melancholy temperament when I was a boy that, before I
+was of age, I sincerely believed myself to be under a curse, and not
+only myself, but my whole family and every individual who bore my name.
+
+I was born in the old place where my father, and his father, and all
+his predecessors had been born, beyond the memory of man.  It is a very
+old house, and the greater part of it was originally a castle, strongly
+fortified, and surrounded by a steep moat supplied with abundant water
+from the hills by a hidden aqueduct.  Many of the fortifications have
+been destroyed, and the moat has been filled up.  The water from the
+aqueduct supplies great fountains, and runs down into huge oblong
+basins in the terraced gardens, one below the other, each surrounded by
+a broad pavement of marble between the water and the flower-beds.  The
+waste surplus finally escapes through an artificial grotto, some thirty
+yards long, into a stream, flowing down through the park to the meadows
+beyond, and thence to the distant river.  The buildings were extended a
+little and greatly altered more than two hundred years ago, in the time
+of Charles II., but since then little has been done to improve them,
+though they have been kept in fairly good repair, according to our
+fortunes.
+
+In the gardens there are terraces and huge hedges of box and evergreen,
+some of which used to be clipped into shapes of animals, in the Italian
+style.  I can remember when I was a lad how I used to try to make out
+what the trees were cut to represent, and how I used to appeal for
+explanations to Judith, my Welsh nurse.  She dealt in a strange
+mythology of her own, and peopled the gardens with griffins, dragons,
+good genii and bad, and filled my mind with them at the same time.  My
+nursery window afforded a view of the great fountains at the head of
+the upper basin, and on moonlight nights the Welshwoman would hold me
+up to the glass and bid me look at the mist and spray rising into
+mysterious shapes, moving mystically in the white light like living
+things.
+
+"It's the Woman of the Water," she used to say; and sometimes she would
+threaten that if I did not go to sleep the Woman of the Water would
+steal up to the high window and carry me away in her wet arms.
+
+[Illustration: F. Hopkinson Smith]
+
+The place was gloomy.  The broad basins of water and the tall evergreen
+hedges gave it a funereal look, and the damp-stained marble causeways
+by the pools might have been made of tombstones.  The gray and
+weather-beaten walls and towers without, the dark and massively
+furnished rooms within, the deep, mysterious recesses and the heavy
+curtains, all affected my spirits.  I was silent and sad from my
+childhood.  There was a great clock tower above, from which the hours
+rang dismally during the day, and tolled like a knell in the dead of
+night.  There was no light nor life in the house, for my mother was a
+helpless invalid, and my father had grown melancholy in his long task
+of caring for her.  He was a thin, dark man, with sad eyes; kind, I
+think, but silent and unhappy.  Next to my mother, I believe he loved
+me better than anything on earth, for he took immense pains and trouble
+in teaching me, and what he taught me I have never forgotten.  Perhaps
+it was his only amusement, and that may be the reason why I had no
+nursery governess or teacher of any kind while he lived.
+
+I used to be taken to see my mother every day, and sometimes twice a
+day, for an hour at a time.  Then I sat upon a little stool near her
+feet, and she would ask me what I had been doing, and what I wanted to
+do.  I dare say she saw already the seeds of a profound melancholy in
+my nature, for she looked at me always with a sad smile, and kissed me
+with a sigh when I was taken away.
+
+One night, when I was just six years old, I lay awake in the nursery.
+The door was not quite shut, and the Welsh nurse was sitting sewing in
+the next room.  Suddenly I heard her groan, and say in a strange voice,
+"One--two--one--two!"  I was frightened, and I jumped up and ran to the
+door, barefooted as I was.
+
+"What is it, Judith?" I cried, clinging to her skirts.  I can remember
+the look in her strange dark eyes as she answered:
+
+"One--two leaden coffins, fallen from the ceiling!" she crooned,
+working herself in her chair.  "One--two--a light coffin and a heavy
+coffin, falling to the floor!"
+
+Then she seemed to notice me, and she took me back to bed and sang me
+to sleep with a queer old Welsh song.
+
+I do not know how it was, but the impression got hold of me that she
+had meant that my father and mother were going to die very soon.  They
+died in the very room where she had been sitting that night.  It was a
+great room, my day nursery, full of sun when there was any; and when
+the days were dark it was the most cheerful place in the house.  My
+mother grew rapidly worse, and I was transferred to another part of the
+building to make place for her.  They thought my nursery was gayer for
+her, I suppose; but she could not live.  She was beautiful when she was
+dead, and I cried bitterly.
+
+"The light one, the light one--the heavy one to come," crooned the
+Welshwoman.  And she was right.  My father took the room after my
+mother was gone, and day by day he grew thinner and paler and sadder.
+
+"The heavy one, the heavy one--all of lead," moaned my nurse, one night
+in December, standing still, just as she was going to take away the
+light after putting me to bed.  Then she took me up again and wrapped
+me in a little gown, and led me away to my father's room.  She knocked,
+but no one answered.  She opened the door, and we found him in his easy
+chair before the fire, very white, quite dead.
+
+So I was alone with the Welshwoman till strange people came, and
+relations whom I had never seen; and then I heard them saying that I
+must be taken away to some more cheerful place.  They were kind people,
+and I will not believe that they were kind only because I was to be
+very rich when I grew to be a man.  The world never seemed to be a very
+bad place to me, nor all the people to be miserable sinners, even when
+I was most melancholy.  I do not remember that any one ever did me any
+great injustice, nor that I was ever oppressed or ill-treated in any
+way, even by the boys at school.  I was sad, I suppose, because my
+childhood was so gloomy, and, later, because I was unlucky in
+everything I undertook, till I finally believed I was pursued by fate,
+and I used to dream that the old Welsh nurse and the Woman of the Water
+between them had vowed to pursue me to my end.  But my natural
+disposition should have been cheerful, as I have often thought.
+
+Among the lads of my age I was never last, or even among the last, in
+anything; but I was never first.  If I trained for a race, I was sure
+to sprain my ankle on the day when I was to run.  If I pulled an oar
+with others, my oar was sure to break.  If I competed for a prize, some
+unforeseen accident prevented my winning it at the last moment.
+Nothing to which I put my hand succeeded, and I got the reputation of
+being unlucky, until my companions felt it was always safe to bet
+against me, no matter what the appearances might be.  I became
+discouraged and listless in everything.  I gave up the idea of
+competing for any distinction at the University, comforting myself with
+the thought that I could not fail in the examination for the ordinary
+degree.  The day before the examination began I fell ill; and when at
+last I recovered, after a narrow escape from death, I turned my back
+upon Oxford, and went down alone to visit the old place where I had
+been born, feeble in health and profoundly disgusted and discouraged.
+I was twenty-one years of age, master of myself and of my fortune; but
+so deeply had the long chain of small unlucky circumstances affected me
+that I thought seriously of shutting myself up from the world to live
+the life of a hermit and to die as soon as possible.  Death seemed the
+only cheerful possibility in my existence, and my thoughts soon dwelt
+upon it altogether.
+
+I had never shown any wish to return to my own home since I had been
+taken away as a little boy, and no one had ever pressed me to do so.
+The place had been kept in order after a fashion, and did not seem to
+have suffered during the fifteen years or more of my absence.  Nothing
+earthly could affect those old gray walls that had fought the elements
+for so many centuries.  The garden was more wild than I remembered it;
+the marble causeways about the pools looked more yellow and damp than
+of old, and the whole place at first looked smaller.  It was not until
+I had wandered about the house and grounds for many hours that I
+realized the huge size of the home where, I was to live in solitude.
+Then I began to delight in it, and my resolution to live alone grew
+stronger.
+
+The people had turned out to welcome me, of course, and I tried to
+recognize the changed faces of the old gardener and the old
+housekeeper, and to call them by name.  My old nurse I knew at once.
+She had grown very gray since she heard the coffins fall in the nursery
+fifteen years before, but her strange eyes were the same, and the look
+in them woke all my old memories.  She went over the house with me.
+
+"And how is the Woman of the Water?" I asked, trying to laugh a little.
+"Does she still play in the moonlight?"
+
+"She is hungry," answered the Welshwoman, in a low voice.
+
+"Hungry?  Then we will feed her."  I laughed.  But old Judith turned
+very pale, and looked at me strangely.
+
+"Feed her?  Ay--you will feed her well," she muttered, glancing behind
+her at the ancient housekeeper, who tottered after us with feeble steps
+through the halls and passages.
+
+I did not think much of her words.  She had always talked oddly, as
+Welshwomen will, and though I was very melancholy I am sure I was not
+superstitious, and I was certainly not timid.  Only, as in a far-off
+dream, I seemed to see her standing with the light in her hand and
+muttering, "The heavy one--all of lead," and then leading a little boy
+through the long corridors to see his father lying dead in a great easy
+chair before a smouldering fire.  So we went over the house, and I
+chose the rooms where I would live; and the servants I had brought with
+me ordered and arranged everything, and I had no more trouble.  I did
+not care what they did provided I was left in peace and was not
+expected to give directions; for I was more listless than ever, owing
+to the effects of my illness at college.
+
+I dined in solitary state, and the melancholy grandeur of the vast old
+dining-room pleased me.  Then I went to the room I had selected for my
+study, and sat down in a deep chair, under a bright light, to think, or
+to let my thoughts meander through labyrinths of their own choosing,
+utterly indifferent to the course they might take.
+
+The tall windows of the room opened to the level of the ground upon the
+terrace at the head of the garden.  It was in the end of July, and
+everything was open, for the weather was warm.  As I sat alone I heard
+the unceasing splash of the great fountains, and I fell to thinking of
+the Woman of the Water.  I rose and went out into the still night, and
+sat down upon a seat on the terrace, between two gigantic Italian
+flower-pots.  The air was deliciously soft and sweet with the smell of
+the flowers, and the garden was more congenial to me than the house.
+Sad people always like running water and the sound of it at night,
+though I cannot tell why.  I sat and listened in the gloom, for it was
+dark below, and the pale moon had not yet climbed over the hills in
+front of me, though all the air above was light with her rising beams.
+Slowly the white halo in the eastern sky ascended in an arch above the
+wooded crests, making the outlines of the mountains more intensely
+black by contrast, as though the head of some great white saint were
+rising from behind a screen in a vast cathedral, throwing misty glories
+from below.  I longed to see the moon herself, and I tried to reckon
+the seconds before she must appear.  Then she sprang up quickly, and in
+a moment more hung round and perfect in the sky.  I gazed at her, and
+then at the floating spray of the tall fountains, and down at the
+pools, where the waterlilies were rocking softly in their sleep on the
+velvet surface of the moonlit water.  Just then a great swan floated
+out silently into the midst of the basin, and wreathed his long neck,
+catching the water in his broad bill, and scattering showers of
+diamonds around him.
+
+Suddenly, as I gazed, something came between me and the light.  I
+looked up instantly.  Between me and the round disk of the moon rose a
+luminous face of a woman, with great strange eyes, and a woman's mouth,
+full and soft, but not smiling, hooded in black, staring at me as I sat
+still upon my bench.  She was close to me--so close that I could have
+touched her with my hand.  But I was transfixed and helpless.  She
+stood still for a moment, but her expression did not change.  Then she
+passed swiftly away, and my hair stood up on my head, while the cold
+breeze from her white dress was wafted to my temples as she moved.  The
+moonlight, shining through the tossing spray of the fountain, made
+traceries of shadow on the gleaming folds of her garments.  In an
+instant she was gone and I was alone.
+
+I was strangely shaken by the vision, and some time passed before I
+could rise to my feet, for I was still weak from my illness, and the
+sight I had seen would have startled any one.  I did not reason with
+myself, for I was certain that I had looked on the unearthly, and no
+argument could have destroyed that belief.  At last I got up and stood
+unsteadily, gazing in the direction in which I thought the face had
+gone; but there was nothing to be seen--nothing but the broad paths,
+the tall, dark evergreen hedges, the tossing water of the fountains and
+the smooth pool below.  I fell back upon the seat and recalled the face
+I had seen.  Strange to say, now that the first impression had passed,
+there was nothing startling in the recollection; on the contrary, I
+felt that I was fascinated by the face, and would give anything to see
+it again.  I could retrace the beautiful straight features, the long
+dark eyes, and the wonderful mouth most exactly in my mind, and when I
+had reconstructed every detail from memory I knew that the whole was
+beautiful, and that I should love a woman with such a face.
+
+"I wonder whether she is the Woman of the Water!" I said to myself.
+Then rising once more, I wandered down the garden, descending one short
+flight of steps after another from terrace to terrace by the edge of
+the marble basins, through the shadow and through the moonlight; and I
+crossed the water by the rustic bridge above the artificial grotto, and
+climbed slowly up again to the highest terrace by the other side.  The
+air seemed sweeter, and I was very calm, so that I think I smiled to
+myself as I walked, as though a new happiness had come to me.  The
+woman's face seemed always before me, and the thought of it gave me an
+unwonted thrill of pleasure, unlike anything I had ever felt before.
+
+I turned as I reached the house, and looked back upon the scene.  It
+had certainly changed in the short hour since I had come out, and my
+mood had changed with it.  Just like my luck, I thought, to fall in
+love with a ghost!  But in old times I would have sighed; and gone to
+bed more sad than ever, at such a melancholy conclusion.  To-night I
+felt happy, almost for the first time in my life.  The gloomy old study
+seemed cheerful when I went in.  The old pictures on the walls smiled
+at me, and I sat down in my deep chair with a new and delightful
+sensation that I was not alone.  The idea of having seen a ghost, and
+of feeling much the better for it, was so absurd that I laughed softly,
+as I took up one of the books I had brought with me and began to read.
+
+That impression did not wear off.  I slept peacefully, and in the
+morning I threw open my windows to the summer air and looked down at
+the garden, at the stretches of green and at the colored flower-beds,
+at the circling swallows and at the bright water.
+
+"A man might make a paradise of this place," I exclaimed.  "A man and a
+woman together!"
+
+From that day the old Castle no longer seemed gloomy, and I think I
+ceased to be sad; for some time, too, I began to take an interest in
+the place, and to try and make it more alive.  I avoided my old Welsh
+nurse, lest she should damp my humor with some dismal prophecy, and
+recall my old self by bringing back memories of my dismal childhood.
+But what I thought of most was the ghostly figure I had seen in the
+garden that first night after my arrival.  I went out every evening and
+wandered through the walks and paths; but, try as I might, I did not
+see my vision again.  At last, after many days, the memory grew more
+faint, and my old moody nature gradually overcame the temporary sense
+of lightness I had experienced.  The summer turned to autumn, and I
+grew restless.  It began to rain.  The dampness pervaded the gardens,
+and the outer halls smelled musty, like tombs; the gray sky oppressed
+me intolerably.  I left the place as it was and went abroad, determined
+to try anything which might possibly make a second break in the
+monotonous melancholy from which I suffered.
+
+
+II
+
+Most people would be struck by the utter insignificance of the small
+events which, after the death of my parents, influenced my life and
+made me unhappy.  The gruesome forebodings of a Welsh nurse, which
+chanced to be realized by an odd coincidence of events, should not seem
+enough to change the nature of a child and to direct the bent of his
+character in after years.  The little disappointments of schoolboy
+life, and the somewhat less childish ones of an uneventful and
+undistinguished academic career, should not have sufficed to turn me
+out at one-and-twenty-years of age a melancholic, listless idler.  Some
+weakness of my own character may have contributed to the result, but in
+a greater degree it was due to my having a reputation for bad luck.
+However, I will not try to analyze the causes of my state, for I should
+satisfy nobody, least of all myself.  Still less will I attempt to
+explain why I felt a temporary revival of my spirits after my adventure
+in the garden.  It is certain that I was in love with the face I had
+seen, and that I longed to see it again; that I gave up all hope of a
+second visitation, grew more sad than ever, packed up my traps, and
+finally went abroad.  But in my dreams I went back to my home, and it
+always appeared to me sunny and bright, as it had looked on that
+summer's morning after I had seen the woman by the fountain.
+
+I went to Paris.  I went farther, and wandered about Germany.  I tried
+to amuse myself, and I failed miserably.  With the aimless whims of an
+idle and useless man come all sorts of suggestions for good
+resolutions.  One day I made up my mind that I would go and bury myself
+in a German university for a time, and live simply like a poor student.
+I started with the intention of going to Leipzig, determined to stay
+there until some event should direct my life or change my humor, or
+make an end of me altogether.  The express train stopped at some
+station of which I did not know the name.  It was dusk on a winter's
+afternoon, and I peered through the thick glass from my seat.  Suddenly
+another train came gliding in from the opposite direction, and stopped
+alongside of ours.  I looked at the carriage which chanced to be
+abreast of mine, and idly read the black letters painted on a white
+board swinging from the brass handrail: Berlin--Cologne--Paris.  Then I
+looked up at the window above.  I started violently, and the cold
+perspiration broke out upon my forehead.  In the dim light, not six
+feet from where I sat, I saw the face of a woman, the face I loved, the
+straight, fine features, the strange eyes, the wonderful mouth, the
+pale skin.  Her head-dress was a dark veil which seemed to be tied
+about her head and passed over the shoulders under her chin.  As I
+threw down the window and knelt on the cushioned seat, leaning far out
+to get a better view, a long whistle screamed through the station,
+followed by a quick series of dull, clanking sounds; then there was a
+slight jerk, and my train moved on.  Luckily the window was narrow,
+being the one over the seat, beside the door, or I believe I would have
+jumped out of it then and there.  In an instant the speed increased,
+and I was being carried swiftly away in the opposite direction from the
+thing I loved.
+
+For a quarter of an hour I lay back in my place, stunned by the
+suddenness of the apparition.  At last one of the two other passengers,
+a large and gorgeous captain of the White Konigsberg Cuirassiers,
+civilly but firmly suggested that I might shut my window, as the
+evening was cold.  I did so, with an apology, and relapsed into
+silence.  The train ran swiftly on for a long time, and it was already
+beginning to slacken speed before entering another station, when I
+roused myself and made a sudden resolution.  As the carriage stopped
+before the brilliantly lighted platform, I seized my belongings,
+saluted my fellow-passengers, and got out, determined to take the first
+express back to Paris.
+
+This time the circumstances of the vision had been so natural that it
+did not strike me that there was anything unreal about the face, or
+about the woman to whom it belonged.  I did not try to explain to
+myself how the face, and the woman, could be travelling by a fast train
+from Berlin to Paris on a winter's afternoon, when both were in my mind
+indelibly associated with the moonlight and the fountains in my own
+English home.  I certainly would not have admitted that I had been
+mistaken in the dusk, attributing to what I had seen a resemblance to
+my former vision which did not really exist.  There was not the
+slightest doubt in my mind, and I was positively sure that I had again
+seen the face I loved.  I did not hesitate, and in a few hours I was on
+my way back to Paris.  I could not help reflecting on my ill luck.
+Wandering as I had been for many months, it might as easily have
+chanced that I should be travelling in the same train with that woman,
+instead of going the other way.  But my luck was destined to turn for a
+time.
+
+I searched Paris for several days.  I dined at the principal hotels; I
+went to the theatres; I rode in the Bois de Boulogne in the morning,
+and picked up an acquaintance, whom I forced to drive with me in the
+afternoon.  I went to mass at the Madeleine, and I attended the
+services at the English Church.  I hung about the Louvre and Notre
+Dame.  I went to Versailles.  I spent hours in parading the Rue de
+Rivoli, in the neighborhood of Meurice's corner, where foreigners pass
+and repass from morning till night.  At last I received an invitation
+to a reception at the English Embassy.  I went, and I found what I had
+sought so long.
+
+There she was, sitting by an old lady in gray satin and diamonds, who
+had a wrinkled but kindly face and keen gray eyes that seemed to take
+in everything they saw, with very little inclination to give much in
+return.  But I did not notice the chaperon.  I saw only the face that
+had haunted me for months, and in the excitement of the moment I walked
+quickly towards the pair, forgetting such a trifle as the necessity for
+an introduction.
+
+She was far more beautiful than I had thought, but I never doubted that
+it was she herself and no other.  Vision or no vision before, this was
+the reality, and I knew it.  Twice her hair had been covered, now at
+last I saw it, and the added beauty of its magnificence glorified the
+whole woman.  It was rich hair, fine and abundant, golden, with deep
+ruddy tints in it like red bronze spun fine.  There was no ornament in
+it, not a rose, not a thread of gold, and I felt that it needed nothing
+to enhance its splendor; nothing but her pale face, her dark strange
+eyes, and her heavy eyebrows.  I could see that she was slender too,
+but strong withal, as she sat there quietly gazing at the moving scene
+in the midst of the brilliant lights and the hum of perpetual
+conversation.
+
+I recollected the detail of introduction in time, and turned aside to
+look for my host.  I found him at last.  I begged him to present me to
+the two ladies, pointing them out to him at the same time.
+
+"Yes--uh--by all means--uh," replied his Excellency with a pleasant
+smile.  He evidently had no idea of my name, which was not to be
+wondered at.
+
+"I am Lord Cairngorm," I observed.
+
+"Oh--by all means," answered the Ambassador with the same hospitable
+smile.  "Yes--uh--the fact is, I must try and find out who they are;
+such lots of people, you know."
+
+"Oh, if you will present me, I will try and find out for you," said I,
+laughing.
+
+"Ah, yes--so kind of you--come along," said my host.  We threaded the
+crowd, and in a few minutes we stood before the two ladies.
+
+"'Lowmintrduce L'd Cairngorm," he said; then, adding quickly to me,
+"Come and dine to-morrow, won't you?" he glided away with his pleasant
+smile and disappeared in the crowd.
+
+I sat down beside the beautiful girl, conscious that the eyes of the
+duenna were upon me.
+
+"I think we have been very near meeting before," I remarked, by way of
+opening the conversation.
+
+My companion turned her eyes full upon me with an air of inquiry.  She
+evidently did not recall my face, if she had ever seen me.
+
+"Really--I cannot remember," she observed, in a low and musical voice.
+"When?"
+
+"In the first place, you came down from Berlin by the express ten days
+ago.  I was going the other way, and our carriages stopped opposite
+each other.  I saw you at the window."
+
+"Yes--we came that way, but I do not remember--"  She hesitated.
+
+"Secondly," I continued, "I was sitting alone in my garden last
+summer--near the end of July--do you remember?  You must have wandered
+in there through the park; you came up to the house and looked at me--"
+
+"Was that you?" she asked, in evident surprise.  Then she broke into a
+laugh.  "I told everybody I had seen a ghost; there had never been any
+Cairngorms in the place since the memory of man.  We left the next day,
+and never heard that you had come there; indeed, I did not know the
+castle belonged to you."
+
+"Where were you staying?" I asked
+
+"Where?  Why, with my aunt, where I always stay.  She is your neighbor,
+since it _is_ you."
+
+"I--beg your pardon--but then--is your aunt Lady Bluebell?  I did not
+quite catch--"
+
+"Don't be afraid.  She is amazingly deaf.  Yes.  She is the relict of
+my beloved uncle, the sixteenth or seventeenth Baron Bluebell--I forget
+exactly how many of them there have been.  And I--do you know who I
+am?"  She laughed, well knowing that I did not.
+
+"No," I answered frankly.  "I have not the least idea.  I asked to be
+introduced because I recognized you.  Perhaps--perhaps you are a Miss
+Bluebell?"
+
+"Considering that you are a neighbor, I will tell you who I am," she
+answered.  "No; I am of the tribe of Bluebells, but my name is Lammas,
+and I have been given to understand that I was christened Margaret.
+Being a floral family, they call me Daisy.  A dreadful American man
+once told me that my aunt was a Bluebell and that I was a
+Harebell--with two l's and an e--because my hair is so thick.  I warn
+you, so that you may avoid making such a bad pun."
+
+"Do I look like a man who makes puns?" I asked, being very conscious of
+my melancholy face and sad looks.
+
+Miss Lammas eyed me critically.
+
+"No; you have a mournful temperament.  I think I can trust you," she
+answered.  "Do you think you could communicate to my aunt the fact that
+you are a Cairngorm and a neighbor?  I am sure she would like to know."
+
+I leaned towards the old lady, inflating my lungs for a yell.  But Miss
+Lammas stopped me.
+
+"That is not of the slightest use," she remarked.  "You can write it on
+a bit of paper.  She is utterly deaf."
+
+"I have a pencil," I answered; "but I have no paper.  Would my cuff do,
+do you think?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" replied Miss Lammas, with alacrity; "men often do that."
+
+I wrote on my cuff: "Miss Lammas wishes me to explain that I am your
+neighbor, Cairngorm."  Then I held out my arm before the old lady's
+nose.  She seemed perfectly accustomed to the proceeding, put up her
+glasses, read the words, smiled, nodded, and addressed me in the
+unearthly voice peculiar to people who hear nothing.
+
+"I knew your grandfather very well," she said.  Then she smiled and
+nodded to me again, and to her niece, and relapsed into silence.
+
+"It is all right," remarked Miss Lammas.  "Aunt Bluebell knows she is
+deaf, and does not say much, like the parrot.  You see, she knew your
+grandfather.  How odd that we should be neighbors!  Why have we never
+met before?"
+
+"If you had told me you knew my grandfather when you appeared in the
+garden, I should not have been in the least surprised," I answered
+rather irrelevantly.  "I really thought you were the ghost of the old
+fountain.  How in the world did you come there at that hour?"
+
+"We were a large party and we went out for a walk.  Then we thought we
+should like to see what your park was like in the moonlight, and so we
+trespassed.  I got separated from the rest, and came upon you by
+accident, just as I was admiring the extremely ghostly look of your
+house, and wondering whether anybody would ever come and live there
+again.  It looks like the castle of Macbeth, or a scene from the opera.
+Do you know anybody here?"
+
+"Hardly a soul!  Do you?"
+
+"No.  Aunt Bluebell said it was our duty to come.  It is easy for her
+to go out; she does not bear the burden of the conversation."
+
+"I am sorry you find it a burden," said I.  "Shall I go away?"
+
+Miss Lammas looked at me with a sudden gravity in her beautiful eyes,
+and there was a sort of hesitation about the lines of her full, soft
+mouth.
+
+"No," she said at last, quite simply, "don't go away.  We may like each
+other, if you stay a little longer--and we ought to, because we are
+neighbors in the country."
+
+I suppose I ought to have thought Miss Lammas a very odd girl.  There
+is, indeed, a sort of freemasonry between people who discover that they
+live near each other and that they ought to have known each other
+before.  But there was a sort of unexpected frankness and simplicity in
+the girl's amusing manner which would have struck any one else as being
+singular, to say the least of it.  To me, however, it all seemed
+natural enough.  I had dreamed of her face too long not to be utterly
+happy when I met her at last and could talk to her as much as I
+pleased.  To me, the man of ill luck in everything, the whole meeting
+seemed too good to be true.  I felt again that strange sensation of
+lightness which I had experienced after I had seen her face in the
+garden.  The great rooms seemed brighter, life seemed worth living; my
+sluggish, melancholy blood ran faster, and filled me with a new sense
+of strength.  I said to myself that without this woman I was but an
+imperfect being, but that with her I could accomplish everything to
+which I should set my hand.  Like the great Doctor, when he thought he
+had cheated Mephistopheles at last, I could have cried aloud to the
+fleeting moment, _Verweile dock, du bist so schön_!
+
+"Are you always gay?" I asked, suddenly.  "How happy you must be!"
+
+"The days would sometimes seem very long if I were gloomy," she
+answered, thoughtfully.  "Yes, I think I find life very pleasant, and I
+tell it so."
+
+"How can you 'tell life' anything?" I inquired.  "If I could catch my
+life and talk to it, I would abuse it prodigiously, I assure you."
+
+"I dare say.  You have a melancholy temper.  You ought to live
+out-of-doors, dig potatoes; make hay, shoot, hunt, tumble into ditches,
+and come home muddy and hungry for dinner.  It would be much better for
+you than moping in your rook tower and hating everything."
+
+"It is rather lonely down there," I murmured, apologetically, feeling
+that Miss Lammas was quite right.
+
+"Then marry, and quarrel with your wife," she laughed.  "Anything is
+better than being alone."
+
+"I am a very peaceable person.  I never quarrel with anybody.  You can
+try it.  You will find it quite impossible."
+
+"Will you let me try?" she asked, still smiling.
+
+"By all means--especially if it is to be only a preliminary canter," I
+answered, rashly.
+
+"What do you mean?" she inquired, turning quickly upon me.
+
+"Oh--nothing.  You might try my paces with a view to quarrelling in the
+future.  I cannot imagine how you are going to do it.  You will have to
+resort to immediate and direct abuse."
+
+"No.  I will only say that if you do not like your life, it is your own
+fault.  How can a man of your age talk of being melancholy, or of the
+hollowness of existence?  Are you consumptive?  Are you subject to
+hereditary insanity?  Are you deaf, like Aunt Bluebell?  Are you poor,
+like--lots of people?  Have you been crossed in love?  Have you lost
+the world for a woman, or any particular woman for the sake of the
+world?  Are you feeble-minded, a cripple, an outcast?  Are
+you--repulsively ugly?"  She laughed again.  "Is there any reason in
+the world why you should not enjoy all you have got in life?"
+
+"No.  There is no reason whatever, except that I am dreadfully unlucky,
+especially in small things."
+
+"Then try big things, just for a change," suggested Miss Lammas.  "Try
+and get married, for instance, and see how it turns out."
+
+"If it turned out badly it would be rather serious."
+
+"Not half so serious as it is to abuse everything unreasonably.  If
+abuse is your particular talent, abuse something that ought to be
+abused.  Abuse the Conservatives--or the Liberals--it does not matter
+which, since they are always abusing each other.  Make yourself felt by
+other people.  You will like it, if they don't.  It will make a man of
+you.  Fill your mouth with pebbles, and howl at the sea, if you cannot
+do anything else.  It did Demosthenes no end of good, you know.  You
+will have the satisfaction of imitating a great man."
+
+"Really, Miss Lammas, I think the list of innocent exercises you
+propose--"
+
+"Very well--if you don't care for that sort of thing, care for some
+other sort of thing.  Care for something, or hate something.  Don't be
+idle.  Life is short, and though art may be long, plenty of noise
+answers nearly as well."
+
+"I do care for something--I mean, somebody," I said.
+
+"A woman?  Then marry her.  Don't hesitate."
+
+"I do not know whether she would marry me," I replied.  "I have never
+asked her."
+
+"Then ask her at once," answered Miss Lammas.  "I shall die happy if I
+feel I have persuaded a melancholy fellow-creature to rouse himself to
+action.  Ask her, by all means, and see what she says.  If she does not
+accept you at once, she may take you the next time.  Meanwhile, you
+will have entered for the race.  If you lose, there are the 'All-aged
+Trial Stakes,' and the 'Consolation Race.'"
+
+"And plenty of selling races into the bargain.  Shall I take you at
+your word, Miss Lammas?"
+
+"I hope you will," she answered.
+
+"Since you yourself advise me, I will.  Miss Lammas, will you do me the
+honor to marry me?"
+
+For the first time in my life the blood rushed to my head and my sight
+swam.  I cannot tell why I said it.  It would be useless to try to
+explain the extraordinary fascination the girl exercised over me, or
+the still more extraordinary feeling of intimacy with her which had
+grown in me during that half-hour.  Lonely, sad, unlucky as I had been
+all my life, I was certainly not timid, nor even shy.  But to propose
+to marry a woman after half an hour's acquaintance was a piece of
+madness of which I never believed myself capable, and of which I should
+never be capable again, could I be placed in the same situation.  It
+was as though my whole being had been changed in a moment by magic--by
+the white magic of her nature brought into contact with mine.  The
+blood sank back to my heart, and a moment later I found myself staring
+at her with anxious eyes.  To my amazement she was as calm as ever, but
+her beautiful mouth smiled, and there was a mischievous light in her
+dark-brown eyes.
+
+"Fairly caught," she answered.  "For an individual who pretends to be
+listless and sad you are not lacking in humor.  I had really not the
+least idea what you were going to say.  Wouldn't it be singularly
+awkward for you if I had said 'Yes'?  I never saw anybody begin to
+practise so sharply what was preached to him--with so very little loss
+of time!"
+
+"You probably never met a man who had dreamed of you for seven months
+before being introduced."
+
+"No, I never did," she answered gaily.  "It smacks of the romantic.
+Perhaps you are a romantic character, after all.  I should think you
+were if I believed you.  Very well; you have taken my advice, entered
+for a Stranger's Race and lost it.  Try the All-aged Trial Stakes.  You
+have another cuff, and a pencil.  Propose to Aunt Bluebell; she would
+dance with astonishment, and she might recover her hearing."
+
+
+III
+
+That was how I first asked Margaret Lammas to be my wife, and I will
+agree with any one who says I behaved very foolishly.  But I have not
+repented of it, and I never shall.  I have long ago understood that I
+was out of my mind that evening, but I think my temporary insanity on
+that occasion has had the effect of making me a saner man ever since.
+Her manner turned my head, for it was so different from what I had
+expected.  To hear this lovely creature, who, in my imagination, was a
+heroine of romance, if not of tragedy, talking familiarly and laughing
+readily was more than my equanimity could bear, and I lost my head as
+well as my heart.  But when I went back to England in the spring, I
+went to make certain arrangements at the Castle--certain changes and
+improvements which would be absolutely necessary.  I had won the race
+for which I had entered myself so rashly, and we were to be married in
+June.
+
+Whether the change was due to the orders I had left with the gardener
+and the rest of the servants, or to my own state of mind, I cannot
+tell.  At all events, the old place did not look the same to me when I
+opened my window on the morning after my arrival.  There were the gray
+walls below me and the gray turrets flanking the huge building; there
+were the fountains, the marble causeways, the smooth basins, the tall
+box hedges, the water-lilies, and the swans, just as of old.  But there
+was something else there, too--something in the air, in the water, and
+in the greenness that I did not recognize--a light over everything by
+which everything was transfigured.  The clock in the tower struck
+seven, and the strokes of the ancient bell sounded like a wedding
+chime.  The air sang with the thrilling treble of the song-birds, with
+the silvery music of the plashing water and the softer harmony of the
+leaves stirred by the fresh morning wind.  There was a smell of
+new-mown hay from the distant meadows, and of blooming roses from the
+beds below, wafted up together to my window.  I stood in the pure
+sunshine and drank the air and all the sounds and the odors that were
+in it; and I looked down at my garden and said: "It is Paradise, after
+all."  I think the men of old were right when they called heaven a
+garden, and Eden a garden inhabited by one man and one woman, the
+Earthly Paradise.
+
+I turned away, wondering what had become of the gloomy memories I had
+always associated with my home.  I tried to recall the impression of my
+nurse's horrible prophecy before the death of my parents--an impression
+which hitherto had been vivid enough.  I tried to remember my old self,
+my dejection, my listlessness, my bad luck, my petty disappointments.
+I endeavored to force myself to think as I used to think, if only to
+satisfy myself that I had not lost my individuality.  But I succeeded
+in none of these efforts.  I was a different man, a changed being,
+incapable of sorrow, of ill luck, or of sadness.  My life had been a
+dream, not evil, but infinitely gloomy and hopeless.  It was now a
+reality, full of hope, gladness, and all manner of good.  My home had
+been like a tomb; to-day it was Paradise.  My heart had been as though
+it had not existed; to-day it beat with strength and youth and the
+certainty of realized happiness.  I revelled in the beauty of the
+world, and called loveliness out of the future to enjoy it before time
+should bring it to me, as a traveller in the plains looks up to the
+mountains, and already tastes the cool air through the dust of the road.
+
+Here, I thought, we will live and live for years.  There we will sit by
+the fountain towards evening and in the deep moonlight.  Down those
+paths we will wander together.  On those benches we will rest and talk.
+Among those eastern hills we will ride through the soft twilight, and
+in the old house we will tell tales on winter nights, when the logs
+burn high, and the holly berries are red, and the old clock tolls out
+the dying year.  On these old steps, in these dark passages and stately
+rooms, there will one day be the sound of little pattering feet, and
+laughing child-voices will ring up to the vaults of the ancient hall.
+Those tiny footsteps shall not be slow and sad as mine were, nor shall
+the childish words be spoken in an awed whisper.  No gloomy Welshwoman
+shall people the dusky corners with weird horrors, nor utter horrid
+prophecies of death and ghastly things.  All shall be young, and fresh,
+and joyful, and happy, and we will turn the old luck again, and forget
+that there was ever any sadness.
+
+So I thought, as I looked out of my window that morning and for many
+mornings after that, and every day it all seemed more real than ever
+before, and much nearer.  But the old nurse looked at me askance, and
+muttered odd sayings about the Woman of the Water.  I cared little what
+she said, for I was far too happy.
+
+At last the time came near for the wedding.  Lady Bluebell and all the
+tribe of Bluebells, as Margaret called them, were at Bluebell Grange,
+for we had determined to be married in the country, and to come
+straight to the Castle afterwards.  We cared little for travelling, and
+not at all for a crowded ceremony at St George's in Hanover Square,
+with all the tiresome formalities afterwards.  I used to ride over to
+the Grange every day, and very often Margaret would come with her aunt
+and some of her consuls to the Castle.  I was suspicious of my own
+taste, and was only too glad to let her have her way about the
+alterations and improvements in our home.
+
+We were to be married on the thirtieth of July, and on the evening of
+the twenty-eighth Margaret drove over with some of the Bluebell party.
+In the long summer twilight we all went out into the garden.  Naturally
+enough, Margaret and I were left to ourselves, and we wandered down by
+the marble basins.
+
+"It is an odd coincidence," I said; "it was on this very night last
+year that I first saw you."
+
+"Considering that it is the month of July," answered Margaret with a
+laugh, "and that we have been here almost every day, I don't think the
+coincidence is so extraordinary, after all."
+
+"No, dear," said I, "I suppose not.  I don't know why it struck me.  We
+shall very likely be here a year from to-day, and a year from that.
+The odd thing, when I think of it, is that you should be here at all.
+But my luck has turned.  I ought not to think anything odd that happens
+now that I have you.  It is all sure to be good."
+
+"A slight change in your ideas since that remarkable performance of
+yours in Paris," said Margaret.  "Do you know, I thought you were the
+most extraordinary man I had ever met."
+
+"I thought you were the most charming woman I had ever seen.  I
+naturally did not want to lose any time in frivolities.  I took you at
+your word, I followed your advice, I asked you to marry me, and this is
+the delightful result--what's the matter?"
+
+Margaret had started suddenly, and her hand tightened on my arm.  An
+old woman was coming up the path, and was close to us before we saw
+her, for the moon had risen, and was shining full in our faces.  The
+woman turned out to be my old nurse.
+
+"It's only Judith, dear--don't be frightened," I said.  Then I spoke to
+the Welshwoman: "What are you about, Judith?  Have you been feeding the
+Woman of the Water?"
+
+"Ay--when the clock strikes, Willie--my Lord, I mean," muttered the old
+creature, drawing aside to let us pass, and fixing her strange eyes on
+Margaret's face.
+
+"What does she mean?" asked Margaret, when we had gone by.--"Nothing,
+darling.  The old thing is mildly crazy, but she is a good soul."
+
+We went on in silence for a few moments, and came to the rustic bridge
+just above the artificial grotto through which the water ran out into
+the park, dark and swift in its narrow channel.  We stopped, and leaned
+on the wooden rail.  The moon was now behind us, and shone full upon
+the long vista of basins and on the huge walls and towers of the Castle
+above.--"How proud you ought to be of such a grand old place!" said
+Margaret, softly.
+
+"It is yours now, darling," I answered.  "You have as good a right to
+love it as I--but I only love it because you are to live in it, dear."
+
+Her hand stole out and lay on mine, and we were both silent.  Just then
+the clock began to strike far off in the tower.  I
+counted--eight--nine--ten--eleven--I looked at my
+watch--twelve--thirteen--I laughed.  The bell went on striking.
+
+"The old clock has gone crazy, like Judith," I exclaimed.  Still it
+went on, note after note ringing out monotonously through the still
+air.  We leaned over the rail, instinctively looking in the direction
+whence the sound came.  On and on it went.  I counted nearly a hundred,
+out of sheer curiosity, for I understood that something had broken and
+that the thing was running itself down.
+
+Suddenly there was a crack as of breaking wood, a cry and a heavy
+splash, and I was alone, clinging to the broken end of the rail of the
+rustic bridge.
+
+I do not think I hesitated while my pulse beat twice.  I sprang clear
+of the bridge into the black rushing water, dived to the bottom, came
+up again with empty hands, turned and swam downward through the grotto
+in the thick darkness, plunging and diving at every stroke, striking my
+head and hands against jagged stones and sharp corners, clutching at
+last something in my fingers and dragging it up with all my might.  I
+spoke, I cried aloud, but there was no answer.  I was alone in the
+pitchy darkness with my burden, and the house was five hundred yards
+away.  Struggling still, I felt the ground beneath my feet, I saw a ray
+of moonlight--the grotto widened, and the deep water became a broad and
+shallow brook as I stumbled over the stones and at last laid Margaret's
+body on the bank in the park beyond.
+
+"Ay, Willie, as the clock struck!" said the voice of Judith, the Welsh
+nurse, as she bent down and looked at the white face.  The old woman
+must have turned back and followed us, seen the accident, and slipped
+out by the lower gate of the garden.  "Ay," she groaned, "you have fed
+the Woman of the Water this night, Willie, while the clock was
+striking."
+
+I scarcely heard her as I knelt beside the lifeless body of the woman I
+loved, chafing the wet white temples and gazing wildly into the
+wide-staring eyes.  I remember only the first returning look of
+consciousness, the first heaving breath, the first movement of those
+dear hands stretching out towards me.
+
+
+That is not much of a story, you say.  It is the story of my life.
+That is all.  It does not pretend to be anything else.  Old Judith says
+my luck turned on that summer's night when I was struggling in the
+water to save all that was worth living for.  A month later there was a
+stone bridge above the grotto, and Margaret and I stood on it and
+looked up at the moonlit Castle, as we had done once before, and as we
+have done many times since.  For all those things happened ten years
+ago last summer, and this is the tenth Christmas Eve we have spent
+together by the roaring logs in the old hall, talking of old times; and
+every year there are more old times to talk of.  There are curly-headed
+boys, too, with red-gold hair and dark-brown eyes like their mother's,
+and a little Margaret, with solemn black eyes like mine.  Why could not
+she look like her mother, too, as well as the rest of them?
+
+The world is very bright at this glorious Christmas time, and perhaps
+there is little use in calling up the sadness of long ago, unless it be
+to make the jolly fire-light seem more cheerful, the good wife's face
+look gladder, and to give the children's laughter a merrier ring, by
+contrast with all that is gone.  Perhaps, too, some sad faced,
+listless, melancholy youth, who feels that the world is very hollow,
+and that life is like a perpetual funeral service, just as I used to
+feel myself, may take courage from my example, and having found the
+woman of his heart, ask her to marry him after half an hour's
+acquaintance.  But, on the whole, I would not advise any man to marry,
+for the simple reason that no man will ever find a wife like mine, and
+being obliged to go farther, he will necessarily fare worse.  My wife
+has done miracles, but I will not assert that any other woman is able
+to follow her example.
+
+Margaret always said that the old place was beautiful, and that I ought
+to be proud of it.  I dare say she is right.  She has even more
+imagination than I.  But I have a good answer and a plain one, which is
+this,--that all the beauty of the Castle comes from her.  She has
+breathed upon it all, as the children blow upon the cold glass
+window-panes in winter; and as their warm breath crystallizes into
+landscapes from fairyland, full of exquisite shapes and traceries upon
+the blank surface, so her spirit has transformed every gray stone of
+the old towers, every ancient tree and hedge in the gardens, every
+thought in my once melancholy self.  All that was old is young, and all
+that was sad is glad, and I am the gladdest of all.  Whatever heaven
+may be, there is no earthly paradise without woman, nor is there
+anywhere a place so desolate, so dreary, so unutterably miserable that
+a woman cannot make it seem heaven to the man she loves and who loves
+her.
+
+I hear certain cynics laugh, and cry that all that has been said
+before.  Do not laugh, my good cynic.  You are too small a man to laugh
+at such a great thing as love.  Prayers have been said before now by
+many, and perhaps you say yours, too.  I do not think they lose
+anything by being repeated, nor you by repeating them.  You say that
+the world is bitter, and full of the Waters of Bitterness.  Love, and
+so live that you may be loved--the world will turn sweet for you, and
+you shall rest like me by the Waters of Paradise.
+
+
+
+
+A MEMORABLE NIGHT
+
+By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN
+
+Copyright 1891 by Anna Katharine Green.
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+I am a young physician of limited practice and great ambition.  At the
+time of the incidents I am about to relate, my office was in a
+respectable house in Twenty-fourth Street, New York City, and was
+shared, greatly to my own pleasure and convenience, by a clever young
+German whose acquaintance I had made in the hospital, and to whom I had
+become, in the one short year in which we had practised together, most
+unreasonably attached.  I say unreasonably, because it was a liking for
+which I could not account even to myself, as he was neither especially
+prepossessing in appearance nor gifted with any too great amiability of
+character.  He was, however, a brilliant theorist and an unquestionably
+trustworthy practitioner, and for these reasons probably I entertained
+for him a profound respect, and as I have already said a hearty and
+spontaneous affection.
+
+As our specialties were the same, and as, moreover, they were of a
+nature which did not call for night-work, we usually spent the evening
+together.  But once I failed to join him at the office, and it is of
+this night I have to tell.
+
+I had been over to Orange, for my heart was sore over the quarrel I had
+had with Dora, and I was resolved to make one final effort towards
+reconciliation.  But alas for my hopes, she was not at home; and, what
+was worse, I soon learned that she was going to sail the next morning
+for Europe.  This news, coming as it did without warning, affected me
+seriously, for I knew if she escaped from my influence at this time, I
+should certainly lose her forever; for the gentleman concerning whom we
+had quarrelled, was a much better match for her than I, and almost
+equally in love.  However, her father, who had always been my friend,
+did not look upon this same gentleman's advantages with as favorable an
+eye as she did, and when he heard I was in the house, he came hurrying
+into my presence, with excitement written in every line of his fine
+face.
+
+"Ah, Dick, my boy," he exclaimed joyfully, "how opportune this is!  I
+was wishing you would come, for, do you know, Appleby has taken passage
+on board the same steamer as Dora, and if he and she cross together,
+they will certainly come to an understanding, and that will not be fair
+to you, or pleasing to me; and I do not care who knows it!"
+
+I gave him one look and sank, quite overwhelmed, into the seat nearest
+me.  Appleby was the name of my rival, and I quite agreed with her
+father that the tête-à-têtes afforded by an ocean voyage would surely
+put an end to the hopes which I had so long and secretly cherished.
+
+"Does she know he is going?  Did she encourage him?" I stammered.
+
+But the old man answered genially: "Oh, she knows, but I cannot say
+anything positive about her having encouraged him.  The fact is, Dick,
+she still holds a soft place in her heart for you, and if you were
+going to be of the party--"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"I think you would come off conqueror yet."
+
+"Then I will be of the party," I cried.  "It is only six now, and I can
+be in New York by seven.  That gives me five hours before midnight,
+time enough in which to arrange my plans, see Richter, and make
+everything ready for sailing in the morning."
+
+"Dick, you are a trump!" exclaimed the gratified father.  "You have a
+spirit I like, and if Dora does not like it too, then I am mistaken in
+her good sense.  But can you leave your patients?"
+
+"Just now I have but one patient who is in anything like a critical
+condition," I replied, "and her case Richter understands almost as well
+as I do myself.  I will have to see her this evening of course and
+explain, but there is time for that if I go now.  The steamer sails at
+nine?"
+
+"Precisely."
+
+"Do not tell Dora that I expect to be there; let her be surprised.
+Dear girl, she is quite well, I hope?"
+
+"Yes, very well; only going over with her aunt to do some shopping.  A
+poor outlook for a struggling physician, you think.  Well, I don't know
+about that; she is just the kind of a girl to go from one extreme to
+another.  If she once loves you she will not care any longer about
+Paris fashions."
+
+"She shall love me," I cried, and left him in a great hurry, to catch
+the first train for Hoboken.
+
+It seemed wild, this scheme, but I determined to pursue it.  I loved
+Dora too much to lose her, and if three weeks' absence would procure me
+the happiness of my life, why should I hesitate to avail myself of the
+proffered opportunity.  I rode on air as the express I had taken shot
+from station to station, and by the time I had arrived at Christopher
+Street Ferry my plans were all laid and my time disposed of till
+midnight.
+
+It was therefore with no laggard step I hurried to my office, nor was
+it with any ordinary feelings of impatience that I found Richter out;
+for this was not his usual hour for absenting himself and I had much to
+tell him and many advices to give.  It was the first balk I had
+received and I was fuming over it, when I saw what looked like a
+package of books lying on the table before me, and though it was
+addressed to my partner, I was about to take it up, when I heard my
+name uttered in a tremulous tone, and turning, saw a man standing in
+the doorway, who, the moment I met his eye, advanced into the room and
+said:
+
+"O doctor, I have been waiting for you an hour.  Mrs. Warner has been
+taken very bad, sir, and she prays that you will not delay a moment
+before coming to her.  It is something serious I fear, and she may have
+died already, for she would have no one else but you, and it is now an
+hour since I left her."
+
+"And who are you?" I asked, for though I knew Mrs. Warner well--she is
+the patient to whom I have already referred--I did not know her
+messenger.
+
+"I am a servant in the house where she was taken ill."
+
+"Then she is not at home?"
+
+"No, sir, she is in Second Avenue."
+
+"I am very sorry," I began, "but I have not the time----"
+
+But he interrupted eagerly: "There is a carriage at the door; we
+thought you might not have your phaeton ready."
+
+I had noticed the carriage.  "Very well," said I.  "I will go, but
+first let me write a line----"
+
+"O sir," the man broke in pleadingly, "do not wait for anything.  She
+is really very bad, and I heard her calling for you as I ran out of the
+house."
+
+"She had her voice then?" I ventured, somewhat distrustful of the whole
+thing and yet not knowing how to refuse the man, especially as it was
+absolutely necessary for me to see Mrs. Warner that night and get her
+consent to my departure before I could think of making further plans.
+
+So, leaving word for Richter to be sure and wait for me if he came home
+before I did, I signified to Mrs. Warner's messenger that I was ready
+to go with him, and immediately took a seat in the carriage which had
+been provided for me.  The man at once jumped up on the box beside the
+driver, and before I could close the carriage door we were off, riding
+rapidly down Seventh Avenue.
+
+As we went the thought came, "What if Mrs. Warner will not let me off!"
+But I dismissed the fear at once, for this patient of mine is an
+extremely unselfish woman, and if she were not too ill to grasp the
+situation, would certainly sympathize with the strait I was in and
+consent to accept Richter's services in place of my own, especially as
+she knows and trusts him.
+
+When the carriage stopped it was already dark and I could distinguish
+little of the house I entered, save that it was large and old and did
+not look like an establishment where a man servant would be likely to
+be kept.
+
+"Is Mrs. Warner here?" I asked of the man who was slowly getting down
+from the box.
+
+"Yes, sir," he answered quickly; and I was about to ring the bell
+before me, when the door opened and a young German girl, courtesying
+slightly, welcomed me in, saying:
+
+"Mrs. Warner is upstairs, sir; in the front room, if you please."
+
+Not doubting her, but greatly astonished at the barren aspect of the
+place I was in, I stumbled up the faintly lighted stairs before me and
+entered the great front room.  It was empty, but through an open door
+at the other end I heard a voice saying: "He has come, madam;" and
+anxious to see my patient, whose presence in this desolate house I
+found it harder and harder to understand, I stepped into the room where
+she presumably lay.
+
+Alas! for my temerity in doing so; for no sooner had I crossed the
+threshold than the door by which I had entered closed with a click
+unlike any I had ever heard before, and when I turned to see what it
+meant, another click came from the opposite side of the room, and I
+perceived, with a benumbed sense of wonder, that the one person whose
+somewhat shadowy figure I had encountered on entering had vanished from
+the place, and that I was shut up alone in a room without visible means
+of egress.
+
+This was startling, and hard to believe at first, but after I had tried
+the door by which I had entered and found it securely locked, and then
+bounding to the other side of the room, tried the opposite one with the
+same result, I could not but acknowledge I was caught.  What did it
+mean?  Caught, and I was in haste, mad haste.  Filling the room with my
+cries, I shouted for help and a quick release, but my efforts were
+naturally fruitless, and after exhausting myself in vain I stood still
+and surveyed, with what equanimity was left me, the appearance of the
+dreary place in which I had thus suddenly become entrapped.
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+It was a small square room, and I shall not soon forget with what a
+foreboding shudder I observed that its four blank walls were literally
+unbroken by a single window, for this told me that I was in no
+communication with the street, and that it would be impossible for me
+to summon help from the outside world.  The single gas jet burning in a
+fixture hanging from the ceiling was the only relief given to the eye
+in the blank expanse of white wall that surrounded me; while as to
+furniture, the room could boast of nothing more than an old-fashioned
+black-walnut table and two chairs, the latter cushioned, but stiff in
+the back and generally dilapidated in appearance.  The only sign of
+comfort about me was a tray that stood on the table, containing a
+couple of bottles of wine and two glasses.  The bottles were full and
+the glasses clean, and to add to this appearance of hospitality a box
+of cigars rested invitingly near, which I could not fail to perceive,
+even at the first glance, were of the very best brand.
+
+Astonished at these tokens of consideration for my welfare, and
+confounded by the prospect which they offered of a lengthy stay in this
+place, I gave another great shout; but to no better purpose than
+before.  Not a voice answered, and not a stir was heard in the house.
+But there came from without the faint sound of suddenly moving wheels,
+as if the carriage which I had left standing before the door had slowly
+rolled away.  If this were so, then was I indeed a prisoner, while the
+moments so necessary to my plans, and perhaps to the securing of my
+whole future happiness, were flying by like the wind.  As I realized
+this, and my own utter helplessness, I fell into one of the chairs
+before me in a state of perfect despair.  Not that any fears for my
+life were disturbing me, though one in my situation might well question
+if he would ever again breathe the open air from which he had been so
+ingeniously lured.  I did not in that first moment of utter
+downheartedness so much as inquire the reason for the trick which had
+been played upon me.  No, my heart was full of Dora, and I was asking
+myself if I were destined to lose her after all, and that through no
+lack of effort on my part, but just because a party of thieves or
+blackmailers had thought fit to play a game with my liberty.
+
+It could not be; there must be some mistake about it; it was some great
+joke, or I was the victim of a dream, or suffering from some hideous
+nightmare.  Why, only a half hour before I was in my own office, among
+my own familiar belongings, and now----  But, alas, it was no delusion.
+Only four blank, whitewashed walls met my inquiring eyes, and though I
+knocked and knocked again upon the two doors which guarded me on either
+side, hollow echoes continued to be the only answer I received.
+
+Had the carriage then taken away the two persons I had seen in this
+house, and was I indeed alone in its great emptiness?  The thought made
+me desperate, but notwithstanding this I was resolved to continue my
+efforts, for I might be mistaken; there might yet be some being left
+who would yield to my entreaties, if they were backed by something
+substantial.
+
+Taking out my watch, I laid it on the table; it was just a quarter to
+eight.  Then I emptied my trousers pockets of whatever money they held,
+and when all was heaped up before me, I could count but twelve dollars,
+which, together with my studs and a seal ring which I wore, seemed a
+paltry pittance with which to barter for the liberty of which I had
+been robbed.  But it was all I had with me, and I was willing to part
+with it at once if only some one would unlock the door and let me go.
+But how to make known my wishes even if there was any one to listen to
+them?  I had already called in vain, and there was no bell--yes, there
+was; why had I not seen it before?  There was a bell and I sprang to
+ring it.  But just as my hand fell on the cord, I heard a gentle voice
+behind my back saying in good English, but with a strong foreign accent:
+
+"Put up your money, Mr. Atwater; we do not want your money, only your
+society.  Allow me to beg you to replace both watch and money."
+
+Wheeling about in my double surprise at the presence of this intruder
+and his unexpected acquaintance with my name, I encountered the smiling
+glance of a middle-aged man of genteel appearance and courteous
+manners.  He was bowing almost to the ground, and was, as I instantly
+detected, of German birth and education, a gentleman, and not a
+blackleg I had every reason to expect to see.
+
+"You have made a slight mistake," he was saying; "it is your society,
+only your society, that we want."
+
+Astonished at his appearance, and exceedingly irritated by his words, I
+stepped back as he offered me my watch, and bluntly cried:
+
+"If it is my society only that you want, you have certainly taken very
+strange means to procure it.  A thief could have set no neater trap,
+and if it is money you want, state your sum and let me go, for my time
+is valuable and my society likely to be unpleasant."
+
+He gave a shrug with his shoulders that in no wise interfered with his
+set smile.
+
+"You choose to be facetious," he observed.  "I have already remarked
+that we have no use for your money.  Will you sit down?  Here is some
+excellent wine, and if this brand of cigars does not suit you, I will
+send for another."
+
+"Send for the devil!" I cried, greatly exasperated.  "What do you mean
+by keeping me in this place against my will?  Open that door and let me
+out, or----"
+
+I was ready to spring and he saw it.  Smiling more atrociously than
+ever, he slipped behind the table, and before I could reach him, had
+quietly drawn a pistol, which he cocked before my eyes.
+
+"You are excited," he remarked, with a suavity that nearly drove me
+mad.  "Now excitement is no aid to good company, and I am determined
+that none but good company shall be in this room to-night.  So if you
+will be kind enough to calm yourself, Mr. Atwater, you and I may yet
+enjoy ourselves, but if not--" the action he made was significant, and
+I felt the cold sweat break out on my forehead through all the heat of
+my indignation.
+
+But I did not mean to show him that he had intimidated me.
+
+"Excuse me," said I, "and put down your pistol.  Though you are making
+me lose irredeemable time, I will try and control myself enough to give
+you an opportunity for explaining yourself.  Why have you entrapped me
+into this place?"
+
+"I have already told you," said he, gently laying the pistol before
+him, but within easy reach of his hand.
+
+"But that is preposterous," I began, fast losing my self-control again.
+"You do not know me, and if you did----"
+
+"Pardon me, you see I know your name."
+
+Yes, that was true, and the fact set me thinking.  How did he know my
+name?  I did not know him, nor did I know this house, or any reason for
+which I could have been beguiled into it.  Was I the victim of a
+conspiracy, or was the man mad?  Looking at him very earnestly, I
+declared:
+
+"My name is Atwater, and so far you are right, but in learning that
+much about me you must also have learned that I am neither rich nor
+influential, nor of any special value to a blackmailer.  Why choose me
+out then for--your society?  Why not choose some one who can--talk?"
+
+"I find your conversation very interesting."
+
+Baffled, exasperated almost beyond the power to restrain myself, I
+shook my fist in his face, notwithstanding I saw his hand fly to his
+pistol.
+
+"Let me go!" I shrieked.  "Let me go out of this place.  I have
+business, I tell you, important business which means everything to me,
+and which, if I do not attend to it to-night, will be lost to me
+forever.  Let me go, and I will so far reward you that I will speak to
+no one of what has taken place here to-night, but go my ways, forgetful
+of you, forgetful of this house, forgetful of all connected with it."
+
+"You are very good," was his quiet reply, "but this wine has to be
+drunk."  And he calmly poured out a glass, while I drew back in
+despair.  "You do not drink wine?" he queried, holding up the glass he
+had filled between himself and the light.  "It is a pity, for it is of
+most rare vintage.  But perhaps you smoke?"
+
+Sick and disgusted, I found a chair, and sat down in it.  If the man
+were crazy, there was certainly method in his madness.  Besides, he had
+not a crazy eye; there was calm calculation in it and not a little
+good-nature.  Did he simply want to detain me, and if so, did he have a
+motive it would pay me to fathom before I exerted myself further to
+insure my release?  Answering the wave he made me with his hand by
+reaching out for the bottle and filling myself a glass, I forced myself
+to speak more affably as I remarked:
+
+"If the wine must be drunk, we had better be about it, as you can not
+mean to detain me more than an hour, whatever reason you may have for
+wishing my society."
+
+He looked at me inquiringly before answering, then tossing off his
+glass, he remarked:
+
+"I am sorry, but in an hour a man can scarcely make the acquaintance of
+another man's exterior."
+
+"Then you mean----"
+
+"To know you thoroughly, if you will be so good; I may never have the
+opportunity again."
+
+He must be mad; nothing else but mania could account for such words and
+such actions; and yet, if mad, why was he allowed to enter my presence?
+The man who brought me here, the woman who received me at the door, had
+not been mad.
+
+"And I must stay here----" I began.
+
+"Till I am quite satisfied.  I am afraid that will take till morning."
+
+I gave a cry of despair, and then in my utter desperation spoke up to
+him as I would to a man of feeling:
+
+"You don't know what you are doing; you don't know what I shall suffer
+by any such cruel detention.  This night is not like other nights to
+me.  This is a special night in my life, and I need it, I need it, I
+tell you, to spend as I will.  The woman I love"--it seemed horrible to
+speak of her in this place, but I was wild at my helplessness, and
+madly hoped I might awake some answering chord in a breast which could
+not be void of all feeling or he would not have that benevolent look in
+his eye--"the woman I love," I repeated, "sails for Europe to-morrow.
+We have quarrelled, but she still cares for me, and if I can sail on
+the same steamer, we will yet make up and be happy."
+
+"At what time does this steamer start?"
+
+"At nine in the morning."
+
+"Well, you shall leave this house at eight.  If you go directly to the
+steamer you will be in time."
+
+"But--but," I panted, "I have made no arrangements.  I shall have to go
+to my lodgings, write letters, get money.  I ought to be there at this
+moment.  Have you no mercy on a man who never did you wrong, and only
+asks to quit you and forget the precious hour you have made him lose?"
+
+"I am sorry," he said, "it is certainly quite unfortunate, but the door
+will not be opened before eight.  There is really no one in the house
+to unlock it."
+
+"And do you mean to say," I cried aghast, "that you could not open that
+door if you would, that you are locked in here as well as I, and that I
+must remain here till morning, no matter how I feel or you feel?"
+
+"Will you not take a cigar?" he asked.
+
+Then I began to see how useless it was to struggle, and visions of Dora
+leaning on the steamer rail with that serpent whispering soft
+entreaties in her ear came rushing before me, till I could have wept in
+my jealous chagrin.
+
+"It is cruel, base, devilish," I began.  "If you had the excuse of
+wanting money, and took this method of wringing my all from me, I could
+have patience, but to entrap and keep me here for nothing, when my
+whole future happiness is trembling in the balance, is the work of a
+fiend and----"  I made a sudden pause, for a strange idea had struck me.
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+What if this man, these men and this woman, were in league with him
+whose rivalry I feared, and whom I had intended to supplant on the
+morrow.  It was a wild surmise, but was it any wilder than to believe I
+was held here for a mere whim, a freak, a joke, as this bowing, smiling
+man before me would have me believe?
+
+Rising in fresh excitement, I struck my hand on the table.  "You want
+to keep me from going on the steamer," I cried.  "That other wretch who
+loves her has paid you--"
+
+But that other wretch could not know that I was meditating any such
+unusual scheme, as following him without a full day's warning.  I
+thought of this even before I had finished my sentence, and did not
+need the blank astonishment in the face of the man before me to
+convince me that I had given utterance to a foolish accusation.  "It
+would have been some sort of a motive for your actions," I humbly
+added, as I sank back from my hostile attitude; "now you have none."
+
+I thought he bestowed upon me a look of quiet pity, but if so he soon
+hid it with his uplifted glass.
+
+"Forget the girl," said he; "I know of a dozen just as pretty."
+
+I was too indignant to answer.
+
+"Women are the bane of life," he now sententiously exclaimed.  "They
+are ever intruding themselves between a man and his comfort, as for
+instance just now between yourself and this good wine."
+
+I caught up the bottle in sheer desperation.
+
+"Don't talk of them," I cried, "and I will try and drink.  I almost
+wish there was poison in the glass.  My death here might bring
+punishment upon you."
+
+He shook his head, totally unmoved by my passion.
+
+"We deal punishment, not receive it.  It would not worry me in the
+least to leave you lying here upon the floor."
+
+I did not believe this, but I did not stop to weigh the question then;
+I was too much struck by a word he had used.
+
+"Deal punishment?" I repeated.  "Are you punishing me?  Is that why I
+am here?"
+
+He laughed and held out his glass to mine.
+
+"You enjoy being sarcastic," he observed.  "Well, it gives a spice to
+conversation, I own.  Talk is apt to be dull without it."
+
+For reply I struck the glass from his hand; it fell and shivered, and
+he looked for the moment really distressed.
+
+"I had rather you had struck me," he remarked, "for I have an answer
+for an injury like that; but for a broken glass----"  He sighed and
+looked dolefully at the pieces on the floor.
+
+Mortified and somewhat ashamed, I put down my own glass.
+
+"You should not have exasperated me," I cried, and walked away beyond
+temptation, to the other side of the room.
+
+His spirits had received a dampener, but in a few minutes he seized
+upon a cigar and began smoking; as the wreaths curled over his head he
+began to talk, and this time it was on subjects totally foreign to
+myself and even to himself.  It was good talk; that I recognized,
+though I hardly listened to what he said.  I was asking myself what
+time it had now got to be, and what was the meaning of my
+incarceration, till my brain became weary and I could scarcely
+distinguish the topic he discussed.  But he kept on for all my seeming,
+and indeed real, indifference, kept on hour after hour in a monologue
+he endeavored to make interesting, and which probably would have been
+so if the time and occasion had been fit for my enjoying it.  As it
+was, I had no ear for choicest phrases, his subtlest criticisms, or his
+most philosophic disquisitions.  I was wrapped up in self and my cruel
+disappointment, and when in a certain access of frenzy I leaped to my
+feet and took a look at the watch still lying on the table, and saw it
+was four o'clock in the morning, I gave a bound of final despair, and
+throwing myself on the floor, gave myself up to the heavy sleep that
+mercifully came to relieve me.
+
+I was roused by feeling a touch on my breast.  Clapping my hand to the
+spot where I had felt the intruding hand, I discovered that my watch
+had been returned to my pocket.  Drawing it out I first looked at it
+and then cast my eyes quickly about the room.  There was no one with
+me, and the doors stood open between me and the hall.  It was eight
+o'clock, as my watch had just told me.
+
+That I rushed from the house and took the shortest road to the steamer,
+goes without saying.  I could not cross the ocean with Dora, but I
+might yet see her and tell her how near I came to giving her my company
+on that long voyage which now would only serve to further the ends of
+my rival.  But when, after torturing delays on cars and ferry-boats,
+and incredible efforts to pierce a throng that was equally determined
+not to be pierced, I at last reached the wharf, it was to behold her,
+just as I had fancied in my wildest moments, leaning on a rail of the
+ship and listening, while she abstractedly waved her hand to some
+friends below, to the words of the man who had never looked so handsome
+to me or so odious as at this moment of his unconscious triumph.  Her
+father was near her, and from his eager attitude and rapidly wandering
+gaze I saw that he was watching for me.  At last he spied me struggling
+aboard, and immediately his face lighted up in a way which made me wish
+he had not thought it necessary to wait for my anticipated meeting with
+his daughter.
+
+"Ah, Dick, you are late," he began, effusively, as I put foot on deck.
+
+But I waved him back and went at once to Dora.
+
+"Forgive me, pardon me," I incoherently said, as her sweet eyes rose in
+startled pleasure to mine.  "I would have brought you flowers, but I
+meant to sail with you, Dora, I tried to--but wretches, villains,
+prevented it and--and----"
+
+"Oh, it does not matter," she said, and then blushed, probably because
+the words sounded unkind, "I mean----"
+
+But she could not say what she meant, for just then the bell rang for
+all visitors to leave, and her father came forward, evidently thinking
+all was right between us, smiled benignantly in her face, gave her a
+kiss and me a wink and disappeared in the crowd that was now rapidly
+going ashore.
+
+I felt that I must follow, but I gave her one look and one squeeze of
+the hand, and then as I saw her glances wander to his face, I groaned
+in spirit, stammered some words of choking sorrow and was gone, before
+her embarrassment would let her speak words, which I knew would only
+add to my grief and make this hasty parting unendurable.
+
+The look of amazement and chagrin with which her father met my
+reappearance on the dock can easily be imagined.
+
+"Why, Dick," he exclaimed, "aren't you going after all?  I thought I
+could rely on you.  Where's your plucky lad?  Scared off by a frown?  I
+wouldn't have believed it, Dick.  What if she does frown to-day; she
+will smile to-morrow."
+
+I shook my head; I could not tell him just then that it was not through
+any lack of pluck on my part that I had failed him.
+
+When I left the dock I went straight to a restaurant, for I was faint
+as well as miserable.  But my cup of coffee choked me and the rolls and
+eggs were more than I could face.  Rising impatiently, I went out.  Was
+any one more wretched than I that morning and could any one nourish a
+more bitter grievance?  As I strode towards my lodgings I chewed the
+cud of my disappointment till my wrongs loomed up like mountains and I
+was seized by a spirit of revenge.  Should I let such an interference
+as I had received go unpunished?  No, if the wretch who had detained me
+was not used to punishment he should receive a specimen of it now and
+from a man who was no longer a prisoner, and who once aroused did not
+easily forego his purposes.  Turning aside from my former destination,
+I went immediately to a police-station and when I had entered my
+complaint was astonished to see that all the officials had grouped
+about me and were listening to my words with the most startled interest.
+
+"Was the man who came for you a German?" one asked.
+
+I said "Yes."
+
+"And the man who stood guardian over you and entertained you with wine
+and cigars, was not he a German too?"
+
+I nodded acquiescence and they at once began to whisper together; then
+one of them advanced to me and said:
+
+"You have not been home, I understand; you had better come."
+
+Astonished by his manner I endeavored to inquire what he meant, but he
+drew me away, and not till we were within a stone's throw of my office
+did he say, "You must prepare yourself for a shock.  The impertinences
+you suffered from last night were unpleasant no doubt, but if you had
+been allowed to return home, you might not now be deploring them in
+comparative peace and safety."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"That your partner was not as fortunate as yourself.  Look up at the
+house; what do you see there?"
+
+A crowd was what I saw first, but he made me look higher, and then I
+perceived that the windows of my room, of our room, were shattered and
+blackened and that part of the casement of one had been blown out.
+
+"A fire!" I shrieked.  "Poor Richter was smoking----"
+
+"No, he was not smoking.  He had no time for a smoke.  An infernal
+machine burst in that room last night and your friend was its wretched
+victim."
+
+I never knew why my friend's life was made a sacrifice to the revenge
+of his fellow-countrymen.  Though we had been intimate in the year we
+had been together, he had never talked to me of his country and I had
+never seen him in company with one of his own nation.  But that he was
+the victim of some political revenge was apparent, for though it proved
+impossible to find the man who had detained me, the house was found and
+ransacked, and amongst other secret things was discovered the model of
+the machine which had been introduced into our room, and which had
+proved so fatal to the man it was addressed to.  Why men who were so
+relentless in their purposes towards him should have taken such pains
+to keep me from sharing his fate, is one of those anomalies in human
+nature which now and then awake our astonishment.  If I had not lost
+Dora through my detention at their hands I should look back upon that
+evening with sensations of thankfulness.  As it is, I sometimes
+question if it would not have been better if they had let me take my
+chances.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+Have I lost Dora?  From a letter I received to-day I begin to think not.
+
+
+
+
+THE MAN FROM RED DOG
+
+By ALFRED HENRY LEWIS
+
+Copyright 1897 by Frederick A. Stokes Company.
+
+
+"Let me try one of them thar seegyars."
+
+It was the pleasant after-dinner hour, and I was on the veranda for a
+quiet smoke.  The Old Cattleman had just thrown down his paper; the
+half-light of the waning sun was a bit too dim for his eyes of seventy
+years.
+
+"Whenever I behold a seegyar," said the old fellow, as he puffed
+voluminously at the principe I passed over, "I thinks of what that
+witness says in the murder trial at Socorro.
+
+"'What was you-all doin' in camp yourse'f,' asked the jedge of this
+yere witness, 'the day of the killin'?'
+
+"'Which,' says the witness, oncrossin' his laigs an' lettin' on he
+ain't made bashful an' oneasy by so much attentions bein' shown him,
+'which I was a-eatin' of a few sardines, a-drinkin' of a few drinks of
+whiskey, a-smokin' of a few seegyars, an' a-romancin' 'round.'"
+
+After this abrupt, not to say ambiguous reminiscence, the Old Cattleman
+puffed contentedly a moment.
+
+"What murder trial was this you speak of?" I asked.  "Who had been
+killed?"
+
+"Now I don't reckon I ever does know who it is gets downed," he
+replied.  "This yere murder trial itse'f is news to me complete.  They
+was waggin' along with it when I trails into Socorro that time, an' I
+merely sa'nters over to the co't that a-way to hear what's goin' on.
+The jedge is sorter gettin' in on the play while I'm listenin'.
+
+"'What was the last words of this yere gent who's killed?' asked the
+jedge of this witness.
+
+"'As nearly as I keeps tabs, jedge,' says the witness, 'the dyin'
+statement of this person is: "Four aces to beat."
+
+"'Which if deceased had knowed Socorro like I does,' says the jedge,
+like he's commentin' to himse'f, 'he'd shorely realized that sech
+remarks is simply sooicidal.'"
+
+Again the Old Cattleman relapsed into silence and the smoke of the
+principe.
+
+"How did the trial come out?" I queried.  "Was the accused found
+guilty?"
+
+"Which the trial itse'f," he replied, "don't come out.  Thar's a passel
+of the boys who's come into town to see that jestice is done, an' bein'
+the round-up is goin' for'ard at the time, they nacherally feels
+hurried an' pressed for leesure.  They-alls oughter be back on the
+range with their cattle.  So the fifth day, when things is loiterin'
+along at the trial till it looks like the law has hobbles on, an' the
+word goes round it's goin' to be a week yet before the jury gets action
+on this miscreant who's bein' tried, the boys becomes plumb aggravated
+an' wearied out that a-way; an', kickin' in the door of the calaboose,
+they searches out the felon, swings him to a cottonwood not otherwise
+engaged, an' the right prevails.  Nacherally the trial bogs down right
+thar."
+
+After another season of silence and smoke, the Old Cattleman struck in
+again.
+
+"Speakin' of killin's, while I'm the last gent to go fosterin' idees of
+bloodshed, I'm some discouraged jest now by what I've been readin' in
+that paper about a dooel between some Eytalians, an' it shorely tries
+me the way them aliens plays boss.  It's obvious as stars on a cl'ar
+night, they never means fight a little bit.  I abhors dooels, an'
+cowers from the mere idee.  But, after all, business is business, an'
+when folks fights 'em the objects of the meetin' oughter be blood.  But
+the way these yere European shorthorns fixes it, a gent shorely runs a
+heap more resk of becomin' a angel abrupt, attendin' of a Texas
+cake-walk in a purely social way.
+
+"Do they ever fight dooels in the West?  Why, yes--some.  My mem'ry
+comes a-canterin' up right now with the details of an encounter I once
+beholds in Wolfville.  Thar ain't no time much throwed away with a
+dooel in the Southwest.  The people's mighty extemporaneous, an' don't
+go browsin' 'round none sendin' challenges in writin', an' that sort of
+flapdoodle.  When a gent notices the signs a-gettin' about right for
+him to go on the war-path, he picks out his meat, surges up, an'
+declares himse'f.  The victim, who is most likely a mighty serious an'
+experienced person, don't copper the play by makin' vain remarks, but
+brings his gatlin' into play surprisin'.  Next it's bang! bang! bang!
+mixed up with flashes an' white smoke, an' the dooel is over complete.
+The gent who still adorns our midst takes a drink on the house, while
+St. Peter onbars things a lot an' arranges gate an' seat checks with
+the other in the realms of light.  That's all thar is to it.  The tide
+of life ag'in flows onward to the eternal sea, an' nary ripple.
+
+"Oh, this yere Wolfville dooel!  Well, it's this a-way.  The day is
+blazin' hot, an' business layin' prone an' dead--jest blistered to
+death.  A passel of us is sorter pervadin' round the dance-hall, it
+bein' the biggest an' coolest store in camp.  A monte game is
+strugglin' for breath in a feeble, fitful way in a corner, an' some of
+us is a-watch'in'; an' some a-settin' 'round loose a-thinkin'; but all
+keepin mum an' still, 'cause it's so hot.
+
+"Jest then some gent on a hoss goes whoopin' up the street a-yellin'
+an' a-whirlin' the loop of his rope, an' allowin' generally he's havin'
+a mighty good time.
+
+"'Who's this yere toomultuous man on the hoss?' says Enright,
+a-regardin' of him in a displeased way from the door.
+
+"'I meets him up the street a minute back,' says Dan Boggs, 'an' he
+allows he's called "The Man from Red Dog."  He says he's took a day off
+to visit us, an' aims to lay waste the camp some before he goes back.'
+
+"About then the Red Dog man notes old Santa Rosa, who keeps the Mexican
+_baile_ hall, an' his old woman, Marie, a-fussin' with each other in
+front of the New York Store.  They's locked horns over a drink or
+something an' is powwowin' mighty onamiable.
+
+"'Whatever does this yere Mexican fam'ly mean,' says the Red Dog man,
+a-surveyin' of 'em plenty scornful, 'a-draggin' of their domestic
+brawls out yere to offend a sufferin' public for?  Whyever don't they
+stay in their wickeyup an' fight, an' not take to puttin' it all over
+the American race which ain't in the play' none an' don't thirst
+tharfor?  However, I unites an' reeconciles this divided household
+easy.'
+
+"With this the Red Dog man drops the loop of his lariat round the two
+contestants an' jumps his bronco up the street like it's come outen a
+gun.  Of course Santa Rosa an' Marie goes along on their heads
+permiscus.
+
+"They goes coastin' along ontil they gets pulled into a mesquite-bush,
+an' the rope slips offen the saddle, an' thar they be.  We-alls goes
+over from the dance-hall, extricatin' of 'em, an' final they rounds up
+mighty hapless an' weak, an' can only walk.  They shorely lose enough
+hide to make a pair of leggin's.
+
+"'Which I brings 'em together like twins,' says the Red Dog man, ridin'
+back for his rope.  'I offers two to one, no limit, they don't fight
+none whatever for a month.'
+
+"Which, as it shorely looks like he's right, no one takes him.  So the
+Red Dog man leaves his bluff a-hangin' an' goes into the dance-hall,
+a-givin' of it out cold an' clammy he meditates libatin'.
+
+"'All promenade to the bar,' yells the Red Dog man as he goes in.  'I'm
+a wolf, an' it's my night to howl.  Don't 'rouse me, barkeep, with the
+sight of merely one bottle; set 'em all up.  I'm some fastidious about
+my fire-water an' likes a chance to select.'
+
+"Well, we-alls takes our inspiration, an' the Red Dog man tucks his
+onder his belt an' then turns round to Enright.
+
+"'I takes it you're the old he-coon of this yere outfit?' says the Red
+Dog man, soopercilious-like.
+
+"'Which, if I ain't,' says Enright, 'it's plenty safe as a play to let
+your wisdom flow this a-way till the he-coon gets yere.'
+
+"'If thar's anythin',' says the Red Dog man, 'I turns from sick, it's
+voylence an' deevastation.  But I hears sech complaints constant of
+this yere camp of Wolfville, I takes my first idle day to ride over an'
+line things up.  Now yere I be, an' while I regrets it, I finds
+you-alls is a lawless, onregenerate set, a heap sight worse than
+roomer.  I now takes the notion--for I sees no other trail--that by
+next drink time I climbs into the saddle, throws my rope 'round this
+den of sin, an' removes it from the map.'
+
+"'Nacherally,' says Enright, some sarcastic, 'in makin' them schemes
+you ain't lookin' for no trouble whatever with a band of tarrapins like
+us.'
+
+"'None whatever,' says the Red Dog man, mighty confident.  'In thirty
+minutes I distributes this yere hamlet 'round in the landscape same as
+them Greasers; which feat becomin' hist'ry, I then canters back to Red
+Dog.'
+
+"'Well,' says Enright, 'it's plenty p'lite to let us know what's comin'
+this a-way.'
+
+"'Oh!  I ain't tellin' you none,' says the Red Dog man, 'I simply lets
+fly this hint, so any of you-alls as has got bric-a-brac he values
+speshul, he takes warnin' some an' packs it off all safe.'
+
+"It's about then when Cherokee Hall, who's lookin' on, shoulders in
+between Enright an' the Red Dog man, mighty positive.  Cherokee is a
+heap sot in his idees, an' I sees right off he's took a notion ag'in
+the Red Dog man.
+
+"'As you've got a lot of work cut out,' says Cherokee, eyein' the Red
+Dog man malignant, 's'pose we tips the canteen ag'in.'
+
+"'I shorely goes you,' says the Red Dog man.  'I drinks with friend,
+an' I drinks with foe; with the pard of my bosom an' the shudderin'
+victim of my wrath all sim'lar.'
+
+"Cherokee turns out a big drink an' stands a-holdin' of it in his hand.
+I wants to say right yere, this Cherokee's plenty guileful.
+
+"'You was namin',' says Cherokee, 'some public improvements you aims to
+make; sech as movin' this yere camp 'round some, I believes?'
+
+"'That's whatever,' says the Red Dog man, 'an' the holycaust I
+'nitiates is due to start in fifteen minutes.'
+
+"'I've been figgerin' on you,' says Cherokee, 'an' I gives you the
+result in strict confidence without holdin' out a kyard.  When you-all
+talks of tearin' up Wolfville, you're a liar an' a hoss-thief, an' you
+ain't goin' to tear up nothin'.'
+
+"'What's this I hears!' yells the frenzied Red Dog man, reachin' for
+his gun.
+
+"But he never gets it, for the same second Cherokee spills the glass of
+whiskey straight in his eyes, an' the next he's anguished an' blind as
+a mole.
+
+"'I'll fool this yere human simoon up a lot,' says Cherokee, a-hurlin'
+of the Red Dog man to the floor, face down, while his nine-inch bowie
+shines in his hand like the sting of a wasp.  'I shore fixes him so he
+can't get a job clerkin' in a store,' an' grabbin' the Red Dog man's
+ha'r, which is long as the mane of a pony, he slashes it off close in
+one motion.
+
+"'Thar's a fringe for your leggin's, Nell,' remarks Cherokee, a-turnin'
+of the crop over to Faro Nell.  'Now, Doc,' Cherokee goes on to Doc
+Peets, 'take this yere Red Dog stranger over to the Red Light, fix his
+eyes all right, an' then tell him, if he thinks he needs blood in this,
+to take his Winchester an' go north in the middle of the street.  In
+twenty minutes by the watch I steps outen the dance-hall door a-lookin'
+for him.  P'int him to the door all fair an' squar'.  I don't aim to
+play nothin' low on this yere gent.  He gets a chance for his ante.'
+
+"Doc Peets sorter accoomilates the Red Dog man, who is cussin' an'
+carryin' on scandalous, an' leads him over to the Red Light.  In a
+minute word comes to Cherokee as his eyes is roundin' up all proper,
+an' that he's makin' war-medicine an' is growin' more hostile constant,
+an' to heel himse'f.  At that Cherokee, mighty ca'm, sends out for Jack
+Moore's Winchester, which is an 'eight-squar',' latest model.
+
+"'Oh, Cherokee!' says Faro Nell, beginnin' to cry, an' curlin' her arms
+'round his neck.  'I'm 'fraid he's goin' to down you.  Ain't thar no
+way to fix it?  Can't Dan yere settle with this Red Dog man?'
+
+"'Cert,' says Dan Boggs, 'an' I makes the trip too gleeful.  Jest to
+spar' Nell's feelin's, Cherokee, an' not to interfere with no gent's
+little game, I takes your hand an' plays it.'
+
+"'Not none,' says Cherokee; 'this is my deal.  Don't cry, Nellie,' he
+adds, smoothin' down her yaller ha'r.  'Folks in my business has to
+hold themse'fs ready to face any game on the word, an' they never
+weakens or lays down.  An' another thing, little girl; I gets this Red
+Dog sharp shore.  I'm in the middle of a run of luck; I holds fours
+twice last night, with a flush an' a full hand out ag'in 'em.'
+
+"Nell at last lets go of Cherokee's neck, an', bein' a female an' timid
+that a-way, allows she'll go, an' won't stop to see the shootin' none.
+We applauds the idee, thinkin' she might shake Cherokee some if she
+stays; an' of course a gent out shootin' for his life needs his nerve.
+
+"Well, the twenty minutes is up; the Red Dog man gets his rifle offen
+his saddle an' goes down the middle of the street.  Turnin' up his big
+sombrero, he squares 'round, cocks his gun, an' waits.  Then Enright
+goes out with Cherokee an' stands him in the street about a hundred
+yards from the Red Dog man.  After Cherokee's placed he holds up his
+hand for attention an' says:
+
+"'When all is ready I stands to one side an' drops my hat.  You-alls
+fires at will.'
+
+"Enright goes over to the side of the street, counts 'one,' 'two,'
+'three,' an' drops his hat.  Bangety! Bang!  Bang! goes the rifles like
+the roll of a drum.  Cherokee can work a Winchester like one of these
+yere Yankee 'larm-clocks, an' that Red Dog hold-up don't seem none
+behind.
+
+"About the fifth fire the Red Dog man sorter steps for'ard an' drops
+his gun; an' after standin' onsteady for a second, he starts to
+cripplin' down at his knees.  At last he comes ahead on his face like a
+landslide.  Thar's two bullets plum through his lungs, an' when we gets
+to him the red froth is comin' outen his mouth some plenteous.
+
+"We packs him back into the Red Light an' lays him onto a monte-table.
+Bimeby he comes to a little an' Peets asks him whatever he thinks he
+wants.
+
+"'I wants you-alls to take off my moccasins an' pack me into the
+street,' says the Red Dog man.  'I ain't allowin' for my old mother in
+Missoury to be told as how I dies in no gin-mill, which she shorely
+'bominates of 'em.  An' I don't die with no boots on, neither.'
+
+"We-alls packs him back into the street ag'in, an' pulls away at his
+boots.  About the time we gets 'em off he sags back convulsive, an'
+thar he is as dead as Santa Anna.
+
+"'What sort of a game is this, anyhow?' says Dan Boggs, who, while we
+stands thar, has been pawin' over the Red Dog man's rifle.  'Looks like
+this vivacious party's plumb locoed.  Yere's his hind-sights wedged up
+for a thousand yards, an' he's been a-shootin' of cartridges with a
+hundred an' twenty grains of powder into 'em.  Between the sights an'
+the jump of the powder, he's shootin' plumb over Cherokee an' aimin'
+straight at him.'
+
+"'Nellie,' says Enright, lookin' remorseful at the girl, who colors up
+an' begins to cry agin, 'did you cold-deck this yere Red Dog sport this
+a-way?'
+
+"'I'm 'frald,' sobs Nell, 'he gets Cherokee; so I slides over when
+you-alls is waitin' an' fixes his gun some.'
+
+"'Which I should shorely concede you did,' says Enright.  'The way that
+Red Dog gent manipulates his weepon shows he knows his game; an' except
+for you a-settin' things up on him, I'm powerful afraid he'd spoiled
+Cherokee a whole lot.'
+
+"'Well, gents,' goes on Enright, after thinkin' a while, 'I reckons
+we-alls might as well drink on it.  Hist'ry never shows a game yet, an'
+a woman in it, which is on the squar', an' we meekly b'ars our burdens
+with the rest.'"
+
+
+
+
+JEAN MICHAUD'S LITTLE SHIP
+
+By CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS
+
+Reprinted, by permission of the author, from "The Saturday Evening
+Post."  All rights reserved.
+
+
+Patiently, doggedly, yet with the light in his eyes that belongs to the
+enthusiast and the dreamer, young Jean Michaud had worked at it.
+Throughout the winter he had hewed the seasoned timbers and the
+diminutive hackmatack "knees" from the swamp far back in the Equille
+Valley; and whenever the sledding was good with his yoke of black oxen
+he had hauled his materials to the secret place of his shipbuilding by
+the winding shore of a deep tidal tributary of the Port Royal.  In the
+spring he had laid the keel and riveted securely to it the squared
+hackmatack knees.  It was unusual to use such sturdy and unmanageable
+timbers as these hackmatack knees for a craft so small as this which
+the young Acadian was building; but Jean Michaud's thoughts were long
+thoughts and went far ahead.  He was putting all his hopes as well as
+all his scant patrimony into this little ship; and he was resolved that
+it should be strong to carry his fortunes.
+
+Through all the green and blue and golden Acadian summer he had toiled
+joyously at bending the thin planks and riveting them soundly to the
+ribs, the stem and the sternpost.  It was hot work, but white and
+savory, the clean spruce planks that he wrought with breathing sweet
+scents to his lungs as adze and chisel and saw set free the tonic
+spirit of their fibres.  His chips soon spread a yellow carpet over the
+mossy sward and the tree-roots.  The yellow sides of his graceful craft
+presently arose high among the green kissing branches of the water-ash
+and Indian pear.  The tawny golden shimmering current of the creek
+lipped up at high tide close under the stern of the little ship and set
+afloat the lowest layers of the chips; while at ebb a gleaming abyss of
+red mud with walls sloping sharply to a mere rivulet at their foot
+seemed to tempt the structure to a premature launching and a wild
+swooping rush to oozy doom.  Very secluded, far apart from beaten
+highway or forest byway, and quite aside from all the river traffic,
+was the place of Jean Michaud's shipbuilding.  And so it came about
+that the clear ringing blows of his adze, the sharp staccato of his
+diligent hammer and the strident crying of his saw brought no answer
+but the chatter of the striped chipmunks among the near tree-roots, or
+the scolding of the garrulous and inquisitive red squirrels from the
+branches overhead.  At the quiet of the noon hour, while Jean lay in
+the shade contemplating his handiwork, and weaving his many-colored
+dreams, and munching his brown-bread cakes and pale cheese, the
+clucking partridge hen would lead her brood out to investigate the
+edges of the chip-strewn open, where insects gathered in the heat.  And
+afterward, when once more Jean's hammering set up its brisk and
+cheerful echoes, the big golden-wing woodpeckers would promptly accept
+the sound as a challenge, and begin an emulous rat-tat-tat-tat-ting on
+the resonant sound-board of a dead beech not far off.
+
+By the time the partridge brood had taken to whirring up into the maple
+branches when alarmed, instead of scurrying to cover in the underbrush,
+the hull was completed; and a smell of smoking pitch drowned the woodsy
+odors as Jean calked the seams.  Then the pale yellow of the timbers no
+more shone through the reddening leafage, but a sombre black bulk
+loomed impressively above the chips, daunting the squirrels for a few
+days with its strange shadow.  By the time of the moose-calling, when
+the rowan-berries hung in great scarlet bunches and half the red
+leafage was turning brown, and the pale gold birch leaves fell in
+fluttering showers at every gust, two slim masts had raised their tops
+above the trees, and a white bowsprit was thrusting its nose into the
+branches of the nearest red maple.  Under the bowsprit glittered a
+carved and gilded Madonna, the most auspicious figurehead to which, in
+Jean's eyes, he could intrust the fortunes of his handiwork.  A few
+days more and the ship was done--so nearly complete that three or four
+hours of work would make her ready for sea.  Being so small, it was
+feasible to launch her in this advanced state of equipment; and the
+conditions under which she had been built made it necessary that she
+should be prepared to hurry straight from the greased ways of the
+launching to the security of the open sea.  The tidal creek in which
+she would first take water could give her no safe harborage; and once
+out of the creek she would have to make all speed, under cover of
+night, till Port Royal River and the sodded ramparts of Annapolis town
+should be left many miles astern.
+
+Having made his preparations and gathered his materials far ahead, and
+devised his precautions with subtlety, and accustomed his neighbors to
+the idea that he was an erratic youth, given to long absences and
+futile schemes, not worth gossip, Jean had succeeded in keeping his
+enterprise a secret from all but two persons.  These two, deep in his
+counsel's from the first, were Barbe Dieudonné, his sweetheart, and
+Mich' Masson, his friend and ally.
+
+Mich' Masson--whose home, which served him best as a place to stay away
+from, was in the village of Grand Pré, far up on the Basin of
+Minas--had been Jean's close friend since early boyhood, in the days
+before Port Royal town had been captured by the English and found its
+name changed to Annapolis.  He was a daring adventurer, hunter,
+woods-ranger, an implacable partisan of the French cause, and just now
+deeply interested in the traffic between Acadie and the new French
+fortress city of Louisburg--a traffic which the English Governor was
+angrily determined to break up.  Mich' Masson could sail a ship as well
+as set a dead-fall or lay an ambush.  He had kept bright in Jean's
+heart the flame of hatred against the English conquerors of Acadie.  It
+was he who had come to the aid of Jean's shipbuilding from time to
+time, when timbers had to be put in place which were too heavy for one
+pair of hands to work with.  It was, indeed, at his suggestion that
+Jean had finally decided to sell his cottage on the outskirts of
+Annapolis town, his scrap of upland with its apple trees in full
+bearing, his strip of rich dike-land with its apple trees in full
+bearing, his strip of rich dike-forbidden traffic--and to settle under
+the walls of Louisburg, where the flag he loved should always wave over
+his roof-tree.  It was Mich' Masson who had shown Jean how by this
+course he could quickly grow rich, and make a home for Barbe which that
+somewhat disconcerting and incomprehensible maiden would not scorn to
+accept.  Mich' Masson loved his own honor.  He loved Jean.  He hated
+the English.  Jean's secret was safe with him.
+
+Mademoiselle Barbe, under a disguise of indifference which sometimes
+reduced Jean to the not unprofitable condition wherein hard work is the
+sole refuge from despair, hid a passionate interest in her lover's
+undertaking.  She, too, hated the new domination.  She, too, chafed to
+escape from Annapolis and take up life anew under her old Flag of the
+Fleur-de-lis.  Moreover, her restless and fiery spirit could accept no
+contented tiller of green Acadian acres for a mate; and she was
+resolved that Jean's courageous heart and stirring dreams should
+translate themselves into action.  She would have him not only the
+daring dreamer but the daring doer--the successful smuggler, the shrewd
+foiler of the English watch-dogs, the admired and consulted partisan
+leader.  That he had it in him to be all these things she felt utterly
+convinced; but she proposed that the debilitating effects of too much
+happiness should have no chance of postponing his success.  Her keen
+watchfulness detected every weak spot in Jean's enterprise, every
+unguarded point in his secret; and her two-edged mockery, which seemed
+as careless and inconsequent as the wind, at once accomplished the
+effects she had in view.  Her fickleness of mood, her bewildering
+caprice, were the iridescent foam-bubbles veiling a deep and steady
+current.  She knew that she loved Jean's love for her, of which she
+felt as certain as dawn does of the sunrise.  She had a suspicion in
+the deep of her heart that she might be in love with Jean himself; but
+of this she was in no haste to be assured.  She was loyal in every
+fibre.  And Jean's secret was safe with her.
+
+Thus the wonder came to pass that Jean's secret, though known to three
+people, yet remained so long a secret.  Had the English Governor,
+behind his sodded ramparts overlooking the tide, got wind of it, never
+would Jean Michaud's little ship have sailed the open, save with an
+English captain and an English crew.  It would have been confiscated,
+on the not unreasonable presumption that it was intended for the
+forbidden trade.
+
+Early in the afternoon, on a day of mid-October, Jean stepped down the
+ladder which leaned against the starboard bow of his ship, and
+contemplated with satisfaction the name, "Mon Rêve," which he had just
+painted in strong, gold lettering.  The exultation in his eyes became a
+passion of love and worship, as he turned to the slim girl who lay
+curled up luxuriously on a sweet-smelling pile of dried ferns and
+marsh-grass, watching him.
+
+"Since you won't let me name her directly after you, that is the
+nearest I can come to it, Barbe," he said.  "You can't find fault with
+that.  You are my dream--and all else besides."
+
+For a moment she watched him in silence.  Her figure was of a childish
+slenderness, and there was a childish abandon in her attitude.  The
+small hands crossed idly in her lap were very dark and thin and
+long-fingered, with rosy nails.  She was dressed in skirt and bodice of
+the creamy Acadian homespun linen, the skirt reaching not quite to her
+slim ankles.  Her mouth was full and red, half sorrowful, half mocking.
+Her face, small and rather thin, was tanned to a clear, dark brown, and
+of a type that suggested a strain of the ancient blood of the Basques.
+The thick black masses of her hair, with a rebel wave in them, and here
+and there a glint of flame, half covered her little ears and were
+gathered into a knot at the back of her neck.  The brim of her
+low-crowned hat of quilted linen was tilted far down to shade her face;
+and her eyes, very green and clear and large, made a bewildering
+brilliance in the shadow.
+
+The light in her eyes softened presently, and she said in a low voice:
+
+"Poor boy, a very sharp reality you find me most of the time, I'm
+afraid."
+
+For this unexpected utterance Jean had no words of answer ready, but
+his look was a sufficiently eloquent refutation.  He took a few eager
+steps toward her; then, reading inhibition in the sudden gravity of her
+mouth, he checked himself.
+
+"Day after to-morrow, about sundown," said he, "our Lady and St. Joseph
+permitting, we will get her launched.  The tide will be full then, and
+we will run down with it, and pass the fort before moonrise.  If the
+wind's fair we will get out of the Basin and off to sea that same
+night; but if it fails us there'll be tide enough to get us round the
+Island and into a hidden anchorage in Hibert River.  Then--a cargo of
+Acadian beef and barley for Louisburg!  And then--money!  And then--and
+then--you!"
+
+He looked at her with pleading and longing in his eyes, but with a
+doggedness about his mouth which told of much pain endured and a
+determination which might bide its time, indeed, but would not be
+balked.  The look of the mouth she was conscious of, deep down in her
+heart, and she in reality rested upon it; but it was the look in his
+eyes which she answered.  She answered it lightly.  A mocking smile
+played about the corners of her lips and her eyes sparkled upon him
+whimsically.  The look both repulsed and invited him; and he hung for
+some moments, as it were, trembling midway between the promise and the
+denial.
+
+"Don't be too sure of--me!" she said at last.  And his face fell--not
+so much at the words themselves as at their discouraging accent.
+
+"But," he protested, "it is all planned, all done, just for you, Barbe.
+There is nothing in it at all, except you.  It is all you.  That is
+understood between us from the first, and all the time."
+
+Still her mouth mocked him; and still her eyes gleamed upon him with
+their enigmatic light.
+
+"You will have your beautiful little ship," she said slowly.  "You will
+have wonderful adventures--and little time to think of me at all.  You
+will make a wonderful deal of money.  You will make your name famous
+and hated among these English.  I am expecting you to do great things.
+But as for me--I am not won yet, Jean."
+
+His eyes glowed upon her, and the lines of his face set themselves with
+a sudden masterfulness.  He gave a little, soft laugh.
+
+"You are mine!  You will be my wife before I make my second voyage."
+
+"If you believe that, you ought to be a very happy man," she retorted,
+and her smile softened almost imperceptibly as she said it.  "You don't
+look quite as happy as you ought to, Jean!"
+
+"_Don't_ make me wait for my second voyage!  Let me take you away from
+this unhappy country.  Come with me--come with me now!"
+
+He spoke swiftly, his voice thick with the sudden outburst of passion
+long held in check; and he strode forward to catch her in his arms.
+
+Instantaneous as a darting bird, or a flash of light on a wave, she was
+up from her resting-place and away behind the pile of grass and ferns.
+
+"Stay there!" she commanded, "or I'll go home at once!"  And Jean
+stayed.
+
+She laughed at him gayly, mercilessly.
+
+"Would you have me take you on trust, Jean?" she questioned, with her
+head on one side.  "How do I know that you are going to be brave enough
+to fight the English, or clever enough to outwit them?  How do I know
+you will really do the great things I'm expecting of you?  I know your
+dreams are fine, Boy; but you must show me deeds."
+
+"I will," he answered quietly.  "Come here, Sweet, just for one minute!"
+
+"No," she said with a very positive shake of her small head.  "You must
+go on with your work.  You have more to do yet than you realize.  And
+_I've_ something to do, too.  I must go home at once."
+
+"That's not fair, Barbe!" he pleaded.
+
+"I don't care!  It is good for you.  No, don't come one step with me.
+Not one step.  Go on with your work.  I'm going to fly."
+
+She ran lightly across the chips, at a safe distance from Jean's
+outstretched arms, and turned into the trail among the maples.  There
+she paused, gave her lover one melting, caressing, but still
+half-mocking glance, and cried to him:
+
+"I am making a flag for 'Mon Rêve,' and it's not _nearly_ done yet,
+Jean."
+
+Then she disappeared among the bright branches.
+
+With a tumult in his heart Jean turned back to his ladder and
+paint-pot.  Little twinges of angry disappointment ran along his
+nerves, only to be smothered straightway in a flood of passionate
+tenderness.
+
+"Next voyage, anyway!" he muttered to himself as he worked feverishly.
+"I couldn't _live_ longer than that without her!"  And he went over and
+over in his imagination every detail of the girl's appearance, the
+changing moods of her radiant dark face, her hair, her hands, the tones
+of her voice.
+
+Along the trail through the autumn maples, meanwhile Mademoiselle Barbe
+was speeding on light feet.  The little smile was gone from the corners
+of her mouth, and into her eyes, now that Jean could no longer see
+them, was come a great gentleness.  Her mockery, her impatience, her
+picturesque asperity were a kind of game which she played with herself,
+to disguise, sometimes even from herself, the greatness and the
+oversensitiveness of her heart.  At this moment she was feeling sore at
+the nearness of Jean's departure, and was conscious of the pressure of
+his will urging her to go with him.  This she was resolved she would
+not do; but she was equally resolved that her flag should be ready and
+go in her place.  As for the next voyage--well, she thought to herself
+that Jean might persuade her by that time, if he tried hard.  As to his
+success she had not really a grain of doubt.  She knew well enough the
+quality of his fibre.  Her light feet, as she hurried, made hardly a
+sound upon the soft mould of the trail, which was half-hidden by the
+bright autumn carpeting of the leaves.  But presently she heard the
+noise of heavier footfalls approaching.  Just ahead of her the trail
+turned sharply.  Peering through the tangle of branches and thinned
+leafage, she caught glimpses of something that caused her face to grow
+pale, her heart to throb up into her throat; and she stepped behind the
+thick shelter of a fir bush to consider what was to be done.
+
+The sight that so disturbed her was in itself no terrible one.  A tall,
+ruddy-faced, keen-eyed man, carelessly dressed, but of erect, military
+bearing, came striding up the trail, a gun over his arm, a brown dog at
+his heels.  Barbe recognized him at once--the English officer in
+command of the fort at Annapolis.  She saw that he was out for
+partridges--but she saw, also, that he was walking at a pace that would
+speedily devour the scant two miles that divided him from the shipyard
+of "Mon Rêve."  It was evident that he had forgotten his shooting in
+his interest in this unknown trail upon which he had stumbled.  If he
+went on the game was up for Jean's little ship!
+
+She resolved that he should not go on.  It took her just five seconds
+to decide the whole question.  There was a large fallen tree close
+beside the trail, two or three paces from where she hid.  Over this she
+threw herself discreetly, with a little choking scream, and lay moaning
+among the leaves beside it.
+
+The Englishman darted forward and was at her side in a moment, bending
+over her with a mingling of alarm and admiration in his gray eyes.
+
+"Mademoiselle," he cried, "what has happened?  Are you much hurt?"
+
+Receiving no answer, but more faint moans, he lifted her gently and
+stood her on her feet; but the instant he released her she collapsed
+upon the leaves, an appealing but intoxicating confusion of skirts, and
+slim brown hands, and crinkly dark hair, and the corner of a red mouth,
+and the glimpse of an ankle.
+
+"Mademoiselle!  Tell me what is the matter.  Tell me what can I do.
+Let me do something, I beg of you!"  Lifting her again, he seated her
+beside him on the fallen tree; and this time he did not at once release
+her.  At first, her eyes closed and her face a little drawn as with
+pain, she clung instinctively to his arm, with hands that seemed to him
+the most maddening that he had ever seen.  Then, after several minutes
+which were very agreeable to him in spite of his anxiety, she appeared
+to pull herself together with a mighty effort.  She moved away from his
+clasp, sat up straight, and opened upon him great eyes of pain and
+gratitude.
+
+"Oh, thank you Monsieur!" she said simply.  "I'm afraid I have been
+very troublesome.  But, indeed, I thought I was going to die."
+
+"But what is the matter, Mademoiselle?  Tell me, and let me help you."
+
+She sat cringing and setting her teeth hard.  He noticed how white were
+the teeth, how scarlet the full lips.
+
+"It is just my heart," she said.  "I was looking through the bushes to
+see who was coming.  Something startled me, I think; and the pain
+clutched at my heart so I could not breathe, and I fell off."
+
+She paused, to moan a little softly and catch her breath.  Before he
+could say anything she went on:
+
+"It's better now, but it hurts horribly."
+
+"Let me support you, Mademoiselle," he urged with eager courtesy.
+
+But she shrank away from the approaching ministration.
+
+"No, Monsieur, I am better, really.  But I must get home as quick as I
+can."  She rose unsteadily.
+
+The Englishman arose at the same time.  The next moment Barbe sank back
+again, biting her lips to keep back a cry.
+
+"Oh," she gasped, "I can't stand it!  How can I get home?"
+
+"You must let me see you home, Mademoiselle," said the officer,
+authority blending with palpable enthusiasm in his tones.
+
+"You are so good, Monsieur," she murmured gratefully.  "But I could not
+think of taking you away back so far, almost to the village.  It will
+spoil your afternoon's sport."
+
+The sympathy of the Englishman's face gave way to amusement, and he
+hastened to assure her of her mistake.
+
+"Not at all, indeed, Mademoiselle.  It will be quite as much my
+pleasure as my duty to see you safely home.  Your misfortune--if not
+too serious--is my great good fortune!"
+
+Thanking him with a look, Barbe arose weakly and took the proffered
+arm.  At first the homeward journey was very slow; but as the afternoon
+deepened, and the miles gathered between the English commandant and
+Jean's little ship, the girl began to let herself recover.  By this
+time she felt that there was no danger of her escort leaving her one
+minute before he was obliged to; and she knew that now, for this night,
+the ship was safe.  At last, as they emerged from the woods into a high
+pasture-ground, behind the cottage where Barbe lived with her aunt and
+uncle, the Englishman threw off the gallant for a moment and became the
+wide-awake officer.  He paused, took his bearings carefully, and
+scrutinized the trail behind him with searching eyes.
+
+"I have not seen this road before, Mademoiselle," he marked, "and it
+interests me.  It is not down on our map of the Annapolis district.
+Whither does it lead, may I ask?"
+
+Barbe's heart grew faint within her; but she answered lightly, with a
+look that somehow conveyed to him the impression that he should not be
+interested in roads when she was by.
+
+"They haul wood over it, my uncle and his neighbors, in the winter,"
+she answered, "and black mud in summer from the swamp back there."
+
+The Englishman appeared satisfied; but she felt that his curiosity was
+aroused, and with all her arts she strove to divert his thoughts
+exclusively to herself.  She succeeded in this to a degree that
+presently began to stir her apprehensiveness, and at her doorway she
+made her grateful farewells a trifle hurried.  But the Englishman would
+listen to nothing more discouraging than au revoir.  At last he said:
+
+"I shall be shooting over these woods again to-morrow"--Barbe clutched
+hard upon the latch and held her breath--"and shall give myself the
+pleasure of calling to ask after--but no!" he corrected himself.  "You
+are making me forget, Mademoiselle.  I have a council-meeting to fill
+my day with drudgery to-morrow."  (Barbe breathed again at this
+respite.)  "I must deny myself till the day after.  I may call then,
+may I not?"
+
+There was a moment's pause, and in that moment the girl's swift brain
+made its decision.
+
+"Certainly, Monsieur le Commandant," she said, sweeping his face with a
+brilliant glance that made his nerves tingle sweetly; "I shall be much
+honored.  My aunt and I will be much honored!"  And with a curtsy half
+mocking, half formal, and a disastrous curving of her scarlet lips, she
+slipped into the house.
+
+"By--Jove!" muttered the Englishman, as he strode away in a daze.
+
+From the window, behind the bean vines, Barbe watched him go.  The
+instant he was out of sight she darted from the door, sped swiftly over
+the rough pasture-lot, and disappeared among the twilights of the
+trail, where the afternoon shadows were already darkening to purple.
+She ran with the endurance of health and practice and a clean-breathing
+outdoor life; but presently her breath began to fail, her heart to
+thump madly against her slim sides.  Then--around a bend of the trail
+came Jean, returning earlier than his wont.  With an exclamation of
+glad surprise he sprang forward to meet her.  Still more was his
+surprise when she caught him by the shoulders with both hands and
+leaned, gasping and sobbing, against his breast.
+
+After one fierce clasp he held her lightly and tenderly like a child,
+and anxiously scanned her face.
+
+"What is it, Barbe, beloved?  What is the matter?" he questioned
+eagerly.
+
+"The ship," she panted, "must go!  You must go--_to-morrow_ night!"
+
+"Why?  But it is impossible!" he protested, bewildered.  "Mich' won't
+be here till the day after--and one man can't launch her, and can't
+sail her all by himself."
+
+"I tell you it must be done," she cried imperiously.  "You must, you
+must!"  And then, in a few edged words, she explained the situation.
+"If you can't, all is lost," she concluded, "for they will discover
+you, and seize the ship, the day after to-morrow.  Jean, I would never
+believe that you had any such word as 'can't.'"
+
+By this time Jean's face was white and his jaw was set.
+
+"Of course," he said quietly, "it will be done somehow.  I'm not beaten
+till I'm dead.  But the chances are, Sweet, that after I get the little
+ship launched I'll run her aground somewhere down the river, and be
+caught next day like a rat in a barrel.  It's ticklish navigating at
+best, down the river, and one man can't rightly manage even the
+foresail alone, and steer, in those eddies and twists in the channel.
+But--"
+
+"But, Jean--" she interrupted, and then paused, leaning close against
+him, and looking up at him with eyes that seemed to him to make a
+brightness in the dark.
+
+"But what, beautiful one?" he questioned, leaning his face over her,
+and growing suddenly tremulous with a vague, wonderful expectancy.
+
+"I can help!  Take me!"  And she hid her eyes against his rough
+shirt-sleeve.
+
+For one moment Jean stood tense, moveless, unable to apprehend this
+sudden realization of his dreams.  Then he swung her light figure up
+into his arms, and covered her face and hair with kisses.  With a
+little smile of content upon her lips she suffered his madness for a
+while.  Then she made him put her down.
+
+"There is no time now to make love to me," she said.  "We've so much to
+do and plan.  You've never run away with a ship and a girl before,
+Jean, and we must make sure you know just how to go about it."
+
+That night Barbe snatched a few hours of sleep, being mindful of the
+witchery of her eyes.  But Jean toiled all night long, driving his yoke
+of oxen to and fro between his cabin and his shipyard in the forest.
+And he was not weary.  His heart was light as air and sang with every
+pulse.  His strength and his star--he felt them equal to any crisis.
+
+On the following afternoon, when it wanted yet an hour of high tide,
+and the shadows of the maples were beginning to creep over the yellow
+chips, all was ready.  Full of a wild gayety, and untiring as a boy,
+Barbe had worked all day, getting the sails bent, the stores on board,
+the last of block and tackle into place.  Suddenly, from a post of
+vantage in the high-pointing bowsprit, she looked down the trail and
+clapped her brown hands with a shout of delight.
+
+"Mich' has come!" she cried.  And Mich' Masson, striding into the open,
+threw down a big red bundle on the chips.
+
+"Pretty nigh ready?" he inquired.  "Why, what is the matter, _mon
+gar'_?"
+
+Jean's face had fallen like his heart.  There was no longer any
+necessity of Barbe's sharing his adventure.  But he hurried forward and
+clasped his friend's hand.
+
+"We've got to get away to-night," he stammered, struggling bravely to
+make his voice sound cheerful.  "The English are coming over here
+to-morrow to find out what's going on--so it's time for us to be going
+off!  Barbe was to help me through with it."
+
+Mich' held to Jean's hand, and glanced questioningly from his troubled
+face to the girl's teasing one.  But Barbe had burned her bridges and
+saw no reason to be unmerciful.
+
+"I suppose I'll have to be just crew and cabin-boy now, Mich'," she
+pouted.  "Jean was going to let me be first mate, and there wasn't to
+be any crew."
+
+A great joy broke over Jean's face, and Mich' removed his gray woolen
+cap with a sweeping bow.  But before either could reply there came from
+a little way up the trail the excited yapping as of a dog that has
+treed a partridge.  The three looked at each other, their eyes wide
+with apprehension.  Then the report of a gun.
+
+"The Englishman!" gasped Barbe.  "He has not waited.  Quick, hide, one
+each side of the trail, and take him prisoner.  Don't shoot him.  He
+was kind to me."
+
+Jean snatched up his musket and the two men darted into the bush.  By a
+rope from the bulwarks Barbe swung herself lightly to the ground.  In
+haste she crossed the chip-strewn open, and then, carelessly swinging
+her hat in her hand, and singing a fitful snatch of song, she sauntered
+up the trail to meet the intruder.
+
+The trail wound rapidly, so that before she had gone two-score paces
+the ship was hid from her view.  A few steps more and the Englishman
+came in sight, swinging forward alertly, a fluff of brown feathers
+dangling from his right hand.  He was face to face with Barbe; and the
+delighted astonishment that came into his eyes was dashed with a faint
+chill of suspicion.
+
+"How fate favors me, Mademoiselle!" he exclaimed, doffing his cap.
+"Gad, you are a brave girl to wander so far into the woods alone!"
+
+"No, Monsieur, fate does not favor you," retorted Barbe with a sort of
+intimate petulance, holding out her brown fingers.  "You had no
+business coming to-day when you said you were not coming till
+to-morrow.  Now, you are going to find out a secret of mine which I
+didn't want any one to find out."
+
+"But you are not angry at seeing me," he protested.
+
+"N-n-o-o!" she answered, her head upon one side in doubt, while she
+bewildered him with her eyes.  "But I'm sorry in a way!  Well, come and
+I'll show you.  Forgive me for lying to you yesterday about this road!"
+
+And she turned to accompany him, walking very close to his side, so
+that her slim shoulder touched his arm and blurred his sagacity.  The
+next instant came the sharp order: "Halt!  Don't stir, or you're dead!"
+
+The Englishman found himself facing two leveled muskets.  At the same
+moment his own weapon went flying into the underbrush, twitched from
+his hold by a dexterous catch of Barbe's fingers.
+
+He stood still and very straight, his arms at his sides, eying his
+assailants steadily.  His first impulse was to dart upon them with his
+naked hands; but he saw the well-knit form of Jean, almost his own
+height, the lean, set face, a certain exultation in the eyes which he
+read aright; and he saw the shrewd, dark, confident look of Mich', the
+experienced master of situations.  The red mounted slowly to his face,
+and he turned upon Barbe a look wherein reproach at once gave way to
+scorn and a kind of shame.
+
+Barbe herself flushed under that look.
+
+"You wrong me, Monsieur!" she cried impetuously.  "I did it to save
+you.  You are a brave man, and would have tried to fight, and they
+would have killed you!"
+
+He bowed stiffly and turned to the men.
+
+"What do you want of me?"
+
+"Your parole!" said Jean.  "Give us your word that you will come with
+us quietly, making no resistance and no effort to escape."  The
+Englishman shut his lips doggedly.
+
+"Then you must be bound," said Mich' with curt decision.  "We've no
+time to waste."
+
+"Let _me_ bind you, Monsieur," said Barbe, taking his wrists gently and
+putting them behind his back.  "It is no dishonor to be captive to a
+woman."
+
+With a silk scarf from her waist, and a feminine cunning in knots, she
+quickly tied his hands together so that he felt himself quite hopeless
+of escape.  Then, in a cold wrath, he was led forward; with no
+constraint but Barbe's touch upon his arm.  The ship, high on her
+stocks, came into view.  And he understood.
+
+Seating himself upon a log, with his back against a tree, Mich' passed
+a rope about his waist and made him fast to the trunk.  There he sat
+and chewed his indignation, while his captors went in haste about their
+work.  But presently he grew interested.  He saw the blocks knocked out
+from under the little ship's sides, so that she came down upon the
+greased ways and slid smoothly into the flood.  He saw her checked
+gradually by a rope turned once around a tree trunk, so that she was
+kept from running aground on the opposite side of the Basin.  He saw a
+small boat dragged down from the bushes to the edge of the tide, and
+oars put into it.  By this time he had revolved many aspects of the
+case in his mind.  Then came to him Barbe and Jean.
+
+"Monsieur," said Jean, "I regret to have inconvenienced you in this
+way.  But you would without mercy have wrecked all my hopes.  I have
+put all my means into this little ship, built with my own hands.  My
+heart is set on removing from the land of Acadie, to live once more
+under my own flag of France.  But I do not wish to take you a prisoner
+to Louisburg, or to put you to any further annoyance.  To Mademoiselle
+Dieudonné you showed yourself yesterday a most kind and courteous
+gentleman.  All Acadie knows you are brave.  Give me your word that you
+will in no way seek to stop or hinder our departure, and let me set you
+free!"
+
+"Give your parole, Monsieur!" begged Barbe, "or you will have to devote
+yourself to entertaining me all the way to Louisburg."
+
+The Englishman's face brightened.
+
+"Almost you make me wish to go to Louisburg, Mademoiselle.  With the
+duty you apportion me I should be much happier, I assure you, than here
+in Annapolis trying to govern your good fellow-countrymen.  But I will
+give my parole.  I promise you, sir," and he turned his face to Jean,
+"that I will not in any way interfere with the departure of you and
+your ship from Acadie."
+
+"Thank you," said Jean, and he undid the rope and the scarf.
+
+The Englishman arose, walked down to the waterside with Barbe, and with
+elaborate courtesy helped her into the boat.  He bent his lips over her
+hand as he said good-by.
+
+Turning upon him then a laughing face of farewell, Barbe cried: "Never,
+never will I pardon you, Monsieur, for consenting to give your parole!"
+
+"Mademoiselle," he answered, "I am your prisoner still, and always."
+
+
+
+
+THOSE OLD LUNES! OR, WHICH IS THE MADMAN?
+
+By W. GILMORE SIMMS
+
+"I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly I know a
+hawk from a handsaw."--_Hamlet_.
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+We had spent a merry night of it.  Our stars had paled their not
+ineffectual fires, only in the daylight; and while Dan Phoebus was yet
+rising, "jocund on the misty mountain tops," I was busy in adjusting my
+foot in the stirrup and mounting my good steed Priam, to find my way by
+a close cut, and through narrow Indian trails, to my lodgings in the
+little town of C----, on the very borders of Mississippi.  There were a
+dozen of us, all merry larks, half mad with wine and laughter, and the
+ride of seven miles proved a short one.  In less than two hours, I was
+snugly snoozing in my own sheets, and dreaming of the twin daughters of
+old Hansford Owens.
+
+Well might one dream of such precious damsels.  Verily, they seemed,
+all of a sudden, to have become a part of my existence.  They filled my
+thoughts, excited my imagination, and,--if it be not an impertinence to
+say any thing of the heart of a roving lad of eighteen,--then were they
+at the very bottom of mine.--Both of them, let me say,--for they were
+twins, and were endowed with equal rights by nature.  I was not yet
+prepared to say what was the difference, if any, between their claims.
+One was fair, the other brown; one pensive, the other merry as the
+cricket of Venus.  Susannah was meek as became an Elder's daughter;
+Emmeline so mischievous that she might well have worried the meekest of
+the saints in the calendar from his propriety and position.  I confess,
+though I thought constantly of Susannah, I always looked after Emmeline
+the first.  She was the brunette--one of your flashing, sparkling,
+effervescing beauties,--perpetually running over with
+exultation--brimful of passionate fancies that tripped, on tiptoe, half
+winged, through her thoughts.  She was a creature to make your blood
+bound in your bosom,--to take you entirely off your feet, and fancy,
+for the moment, that your heels are quite as much entitled to dominion
+as your head.  Lovely too,--brilliant, if not absolutely perfect in
+features--she kept you always in a sort of sunlight.  She sung well,
+talked well, danced well--was always in air--seemed never herself to
+lack repose, and, it must be confessed, seldom suffered it to any body
+else.  Her dancing was the crowning grace and glory.  She was no
+Taglioni--not an Ellsler--I do not pretend that.  But she was a born
+artiste.  Every motion was a study.  Every look was life.  Her form
+subsided into the sweetest luxuriance of attitude, and rose into motion
+with some such exquisite buoyancy, as would become Venus issuing from
+the foam.  Her very affectations were so naturally worn, that you at
+length looked for them as essential to her charm.  I confess--but no!
+Why should I do anything so foolish?
+
+Susannah was a very different creature.  She was a fair girl--rather
+pale, perhaps, when her features were in repose.  She had rich soft
+flaxen hair, and dark blue eyes.  She looked rather than spoke.  Her
+words were few, her glances many.  She was not necessarily silent in
+silence.  On the contrary, her very silence had frequently a
+significance, taken with her looks, that needed no help from speech.
+She seemed to look through you at a glance, yet there was a liquid
+sweetness in her gaze, that disarmed it of all annoyance.  If Emmeline
+was the glory of the sunlight--Susannah was the sovereign of the shade.
+If the song of the one filled you with exultation, that of the other
+awakened all your tenderness.  If Emmeline was the creature for the
+dance,--Susannah was the wooing, beguiling Egeria, who could snatch you
+from yourself in the moments of respite and repose.  For my part, I
+felt that I could spend all my mornings with the former, and all my
+evenings with the latter.  Susannah with her large, blue, tearful eyes,
+and few, murmuring and always gentle accents, shone out upon me at
+nightfall as that last star that watches in the vault of night for the
+coming of the sapphire dawn.
+
+So much for the damsels.  And all these fancies, not to say feelings,
+were the fruit of but three short days' acquaintance with their
+objects.  But these were days when thoughts travel merrily and
+fast--when all that concerns the fancies and the affections, are caught
+up in a moment, as if the mind were nothing but a congeries of
+instincts, and the sensibilities, with a thousand delicate antennae,
+were ever on the grasp for prey.
+
+Squire Owens was a planter of tolerable condition.  He was a widower,
+with these two lovely and lovable daughters--no more.  But, bless you!
+Mine was no calculating heart.  Very far from it.  Neither the wealth
+of the father, nor the beauty of the girls, had yet prompted me to
+think of marriage.  Life was pleasant enough as it was.  Why burden it?
+Let well enough alone, say I.  I had no wish to be happier.  A wife
+never entered my thoughts.  What might have come of being often with
+such damsels, there's no telling; but just then it was quite enough to
+dance with Emmeline, and muse with Susannah, and--_vive la bagatelle_!
+
+I need say nothing more of my dreams, since the reader sufficiently
+knows the subject.  I slept late that day, and only rose in time for
+dinner, which, in that almost primitive region, took place at 12
+o'clock, M.  I had no appetite.  A herring and soda water might have
+sufficed, but these were matters foreign to the manor.  I endured the
+day and headache together, as well as I could, slept soundly that
+night, with now the most ravishing fancies of Emmeline, and now the
+pleasant dreams of Susannah, one or other of whom still usurped the
+place of a bright particular star in my most capacious fancy.  Truth
+is, in those heyday days, my innocent heart never saw any terrors in
+polygamy.  I rose a new man, refreshed and very eager for a start.  I
+barely swallowed breakfast when Priam was at the door.  While I was
+about to mount, with thoughts filled with the meek beauties of
+Susannah,--I was arrested by the approach of no less a person than
+Ephraim Strong, the village blacksmith.
+
+"You're guine to ride, I see."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"To Squire Owens, I reckon."
+
+"Right."
+
+"Well, keep a sharp look out on the road, for there's news come down
+that the famous Archy Dargan has broke Hamilton jail."
+
+"And who's Archy Dargan?"
+
+"What! don't know Archy?  Why, he's the madman that's been shut up
+there, it's now guine on two years."
+
+"A madman, eh?"
+
+"Yes, and a mighty sevagerous one at that.  He's the cunningest white
+man going.  Talks like a book, and knows how to get out of a
+scrape,--is jest as sensible as any man for a time, but, sudden, he
+takes a start, like a shying horse, and before you knows where you are,
+his heels are in your jaw.  Once he blazes out, it's knife or gun,
+hatchet or hickory--any thing he can lay hands on.  He's killed two men
+already, and cut another's throat a'most to killing.  He's an ugly chap
+to meet on the road, so look out right and left."
+
+"What sort of man is he?"
+
+"In looks?"
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"Well, I reckon, he's about your heft.  He's young and tallish, with a
+fair skin, brown hair, and a mighty quick keen blue eye, that never
+looks steadily nowhere.  Look sharp for him.  The sheriff with his
+'spose-you-come-and-take-us'--is out after him, but he's mighty cute to
+dodge, and had the start some twelve hours afore they missed him."
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+The information thus received did not disquiet me.  After the momentary
+reflection that it might be awkward to meet a madman, out of bounds,
+upon the highway, I quickly dismissed the matter from my mind.  I had
+no room for any but pleasant meditations.  The fair Susannah was now
+uppermost in my dreaming fancies, and, reversing the grasp upon my
+whip, the ivory handle of which, lined with an ounce or two of lead,
+seemed to me a sufficiently effective weapon for the worst of dangers,
+I bade my friendly blacksmith farewell, and dashed forward upon the
+high road.  A smart canter soon took me out of the settlement, and,
+once in the woods, I recommended myself with all the happy facility of
+youth, to its most pleasant and beguiling imaginings.  I suppose I had
+ridden a mile or more--the story of the bedlamite was gone utterly from
+my thought--when a sudden turn in the road showed me a person, also
+mounted, and coming towards me at an easy trot, some twenty-five or
+thirty yards distant.  There was nothing remarkable in his appearance.
+He was a plain farmer or woodman, clothed in ample homespun, and riding
+a short heavy chunk of an animal, that had just been taken from the
+plough.  The rider was a spare, long-legged person, probably thirty
+years or thereabouts.  He looked innocent enough, wearing that simple,
+open-mouthed sort of countenance, the owner of which, we assume, at a
+glance, will never set any neighbouring stream on fire.  He belonged
+evidently to a class as humble as he was simple,--but I had been
+brought up in a school which taught me that the claims of poverty were
+quite as urgent upon courtesy as those of wealth.  Accordingly, as we
+neared each other, I prepared to bestow upon him the usual civil
+recognition of the highway.  What is it Scott says--I am not sure that
+I quote him rightly--
+
+  "When men in distant forests meet,
+  They pass not as in peaceful street."
+
+And, with the best of good humour, I rounded my lips into a smile, and
+got ready my salutation.  To account somewhat for its effect when
+uttered, I must premise that my own personal appearance, at this time,
+was rather wild and impressive.  My face was full of laughter and my
+manners of buoyancy.  My hair was very long, and fell in masses upon my
+shoulder, unrestrained by the cap which I habitually wore, and which,
+as I was riding under heavy shade trees, was grasped in my hand along
+with my riding whip.  As the stranger drew nigh, the arm was extended,
+cap and whip lifted in air, and with free, generous lungs, I
+shouted--"good morning, my friend,--how wags the world with you to-day?"
+
+The effect of this address was prodigious.  The fellow gave no
+answer,--not a word, not a syllable--not the slightest nod of the
+head,--_mais, tout au contraire_.  But for the dilating of his amazed
+pupils, and the dropping of the lower jaw, his features might have been
+chiselled out of stone.  They wore an expression amounting to
+consternation, and I could see that he caught up his bridle with
+increased alertness, bent himself to the saddle, half drew up his
+horse, and then, as if suddenly resolved, edged him off, as closely as
+the woods would allow, to the opposite side of the road.  The
+undergrowth was too thick to allow of his going into the wood at the
+spot where we encountered, or he certainly would have done so.
+Somewhat surprised at this, I said something, I cannot now recollect
+what, the effect of which was even more impressive upon him than my
+former speech.  The heads of our horses were now nearly parallel--the
+road was an ordinary wagon track, say twelve feet wide--I could have
+brushed him with my cap as we passed, and, waving it still aloft, he
+seemed to fancy that such was my intention,--for, inclining his whole
+body on the off side of his nag, as the Comanche does when his aim is
+to send an arrow at his enemy beneath his neck--his heels thrown back,
+though spurless, were made to belabour with the most surprising
+rapidity the flanks of his drowsy animal.  And, not without some
+effect.  The creature dashed first into a trot, then into a canter, and
+finally into a gallop, which, as I was bound one way and he the other,
+soon threw a considerable space between us.
+
+"The fellow's mad!" was my reflection and speech, as, wheeling my horse
+half about, I could see him looking backward, and driving his heels
+still into the sides of his reluctant hack.  The next moment gave me a
+solution of the matter.  The simple countryman had heard of the
+bedlamite from Hamilton jail.  My bare head, the long hair flying in
+the wind, my buoyancy of manner, and the hearty, and, perhaps, novel
+form of salutation with which I addressed him, had satisfied him that I
+was the person.  As the thought struck me, I resolved to play the game
+out, and, with a restless love of levity which has been too frequently
+my error, I put the whip over my horse's neck, and sent him forward in
+pursuit.  My nag was a fine one, and very soon the space was lessened
+between me and the chase.  As he heard the footfalls behind, the
+frightened fugitive redoubled his exertions.  He laid himself to it,
+his heels paddling in the sides of his donkey with redoubled industry.
+And thus I kept him for a good mile, until the first houses of the
+settlement grew visible in the distance.  I then once more turned upon
+the path to the Owens', laughing merrily at the rare chase, and the
+undisguised consternation of the countryman.  The story afforded ample
+merriment to my fair friends Emmeline and Susannah.  "It was so
+ridiculous that one of my appearance should be taken for a madman.  The
+silly fellow deserved the scare."  On these points we were all
+perfectly agreed.  That night we spent charmingly.  The company did not
+separate till near one o'clock.  We had fun and fiddles.  I danced by
+turns with the twins, and more than once with a Miss Gridley, a very
+pretty girl, who was present.  Squire Owens was in the best of humours,
+and, no ways loth, I was made to stay all night.
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+A new day of delight dawned upon us with the next.  Our breakfast made
+a happy family picture, which I began to think it would be cruel to
+interrupt.  So snugly did I sit beside Emmeline, and so sweetly did
+Susannah minister at the coffee urn, and so patriarchally did the old
+man look around upon the circle, that my meditations were all in favour
+of certain measures for perpetuating the scene.  The chief difficulty
+seemed to be, in the way of a choice between the sisters.
+
+  "How happy could I be with either,
+  Were t'other dear charmer away."
+
+I turned now from one to the other, only to become more bewildered.
+The lively glance and playful remark of Emmeline, her lovely, smiling
+visage, and buoyant, unpremeditative air, were triumphant always while
+I beheld them; but the pensive, earnest look of Susannah, the mellow
+cadences of her tones, seemed always to sink into my soul, and were
+certainly remembered longest.  Present, Emmeline was irresistible;
+absent, I thought chiefly of Susannah.  Breakfast was fairly over
+before I came to a decision.  We adjourned to the parlour,--and there,
+with Emmeline at the piano, and Susannah with her Coleridge in
+hand--her favourite poet--I was quite as much distracted as before.
+The bravura of the one swept me completely off my feet.  And when I
+pleaded with the other to read me the touching poem of
+"Genevieve"---her low, subdued and exquisitely modulated utterance, so
+touching, so true to the plaintive and seductive sentiment, so
+harmonious even when broken, so thrilling even when most checked and
+hushed, was quite as little to be withstood.  Like the ass betwixt two
+bundles of hay, my eyes wandered from one to the other uncertain where
+to fix.  And thus passed the two first hours after breakfast.
+
+The third brought an acquisition to our party.  We heard the trampling
+of horses' feet in the court below, and all hurried to the windows, to
+see the new comer.  We had but a glimpse of him--a tall, good-looking
+personage, about thirty years of age, with great whiskers, and a huge
+military cloak.  Squire Owens met him in the reception room, and they
+remained some half hour or three quarters together.  It was evidently a
+business visit.  The girls were all agog to know what it was about, and
+I was mortified to think that Emmeline was now far less eager to
+interest me than before.  She now turned listlessly over the pages of
+her music book, or strummed upon the keys of her piano, with the air of
+one whose thoughts were elsewhere.  Susannah did not seem so much
+disturbed,--she still continued to draw my attention to the more
+pleasing passages of the poet; but I could see, or I fancied, that even
+she was somewhat curious as to the coming of the stranger.  Her eyes
+turned occasionally to the parlour door at the slightest approaching
+sound, and she sometimes looked in my face with a vacant eye, when I
+was making some of my most favourable points of conversation.
+
+At length there was a stir within, a buzz and the scraping of feet.
+The door was thrown open, and, ushered by the father, the stranger made
+his appearance.  His air was rather _distingué_.  His person was well
+made, tall and symmetrical.  His face was martial and expressive.  His
+complexion was of a rich dark brown; his eye was grey, large, and
+restless--his hair thin, and dishevelled.  His carriage was very erect;
+his coat, which was rather seedy, was close buttoned to his chin.  His
+movements were quick and impetuous, and seemed to obey the slightest
+sound, whether of his own, or of the voices of others.  He approached
+the company with the manner of an old acquaintance; certainly, with
+that of a man who had always been conversant with the best society.
+His ease was unobtrusive,--a polite deference invariably distinguishing
+his deportment whenever he had occasion to address the ladies.  Still,
+he spoke as one having authority.  There was a lordly something in his
+tones,--an emphatic assurance in his gesture,--that seemed to settle
+every question; and, after a little while, I found that, hereafter, if
+I played on any fiddle at all, in that presence, it was certainly not
+to be the first.  Emmeline and Susannah had ears for me no longer.
+There was a something of impatience in the manner of the former
+whenever I spoke as if I had only interrupted much pleasanter sounds;
+and, even Susannah, the meek Susannah, put down her Coleridge upon a
+stool, and seemed all attention, only for the imposing stranger.
+
+The effect upon the old man was scarcely less agreeable.  Col.
+Nelson,--so was the stranger called--had come to see about the purchase
+of his upper mill-house tract--a body of land containing some four
+thousand acres, the sale of which was absolutely necessary to relieve
+him from certain incumbrances.  From the conversation which he had
+already had with his visitor, it appeared that the preliminaries would
+be of easy adjustment, and Squire Owens was in the best of all possible
+humours.  It was nothing but Col. Nelson,--Col. Nelson.  The girls did
+not seem to need this influence, though they evidently perceived it;
+and, in the course of the first half hour after his introduction, I
+felt myself rapidly becoming de trop.  The stranger spoke in passionate
+bursts,--at first in low tones,--with halting, hesitating manner, then,
+as if the idea were fairly grasped, he dilated into a torrent of
+utterance, his voice rising with his thought, until he started from his
+chair and confronted the listener.  I cannot deny that there was a
+richness in his language, a warmth and colour in his thought, which
+fascinated while it startled me.  It was only when he had fairly ended
+that one began to ask what had been the provocation to so much warmth,
+and whether the thought to which we had listened was legitimately the
+growth of previous suggestions.  But I was in no mood to listen to the
+stranger, or to analyze what he said.  I found my situation quite too
+mortifying--a mortification which was not lessened, when I perceived
+that neither of the two damsels said a word against my proposed
+departure.  Had they shown but the slightest solicitude, I might have
+been reconciled to my temporary obscuration.  But no! they suffered me
+to rise and declare my purpose, and made no sign.  A cold courtesy from
+them, and a stately and polite bow from Col. Nelson, acknowledged my
+parting salutation, and Squire Owens attended me to the threshold, and
+lingered with me till my horse was got in readiness.  As I dashed
+through the gateway, I could hear the rich voice of Emmeline swelling
+exultingly with the tones of her piano, and my fancy presented me with
+the images of Col. Nelson, hanging over her on one hand, while the meek
+Susannah on the other, was casting those oblique glances upon him which
+had so frequently been addressed to me.  "Ah! pestilent jades," I
+exclaimed in the bitterness of a boyish heart; "this then is the love
+of woman."
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+Chewing such bitter cud as this, I had probably ridden a good mile,
+when suddenly I heard the sound of human voices, and looking up,
+discovered three men, mounted, and just in front of me.  They had
+hauled up, and were seemingly awaiting my approach.  A buzzing
+conversation was going on among them.  "That's he!" said one.  "Sure?"
+was the question of another.  A whistle at my very side caused me to
+turn my head, and as I did so, my horse was caught by the bridle, and I
+received a severe blow from a club above my ears, which brought me
+down, almost unconscious, upon the ground.  In an instant, two stout
+fellows were upon me, and busy in the praiseworthy toil of roping me,
+hands and feet, where I lay.  Hurt, stung, and utterly confounded by
+the surprise, I was not prepared to suffer this indignity with
+patience.  I made manful struggle, and for a moment succeeded in
+shaking off both assailants.  But another blow, taking effect upon my
+temples, and dealt with no moderate appliance of hickory, left me
+insensible.  When I recovered consciousness, I found myself in a cart,
+my hands tied behind me, my head bandaged with a red cotton
+handkerchief, and my breast and arms covered with blood.  A stout
+fellow rode beside me in the cart, while another drove, and on each
+side of the vehicle trotted a man, well armed with a double-barrelled
+gun.
+
+"What does all this mean?" I demanded.  "Why am I here?  Why this
+assault?  What do you mean to do with me?"
+
+"Don't be obstropolous," said one of the men.  "We don't mean to hurt
+you; only put you safe.  We had to tap you on the head a little, for
+your own good."
+
+"Indeed!" I exclaimed, the feeling of that unhappy tapping upon the
+head, making me only the sorer at every moment--"but will you tell me
+what this is for, and in what respect did my good require that my head
+should be broken?"
+
+"It might have been worse for you, where you was onbeknown," replied
+the spokesman,--"but we knowd your situation, and sarved you off
+easily.  Be quiet now, and----"
+
+"What do you mean--what is my situation?"
+
+"Well, I reckon we know.  Only you be quiet, or we'll have to give you
+the skin."
+
+And he held aloft a huge wagon whip as he spoke.  I had sufficient
+proof already of the unscrupulousness with which my companions acted,
+not to be very chary of giving them farther provocation, and, in silent
+misgiving, I turned my head to the opposite side of the vehicle.  The
+first glance in this quarter revealed to me the true history of my
+disaster, and furnished an ample solution of the whole mystery.  Who
+should I behold but the very fellow whom I had chased into town the day
+before.  The truth was now apparent.  I had been captured as the stray
+bedlamite from Hamilton jail.  It was because of this that I had been
+"tapped on the head--only for my own good."  As the conjecture flashed
+upon me, I could not avoid laughter, particularly as I beheld the still
+doubtful and apprehensive visage of the man beside me.  My laughter had
+a very annoying effect upon all parties.  It was a more fearful sign
+than my anger might have been.  The fellow whom I had scared, edged a
+little farther from the cart, and the man who had played spokesman, and
+upon whom the whole business seemed to have devolved, now shook his
+whip again--"None of that, my lad," said he, "or I'll have to bruise
+you again.  Don't be obstropolous."
+
+"You've taken me up for a madman, have you?" said I.
+
+"Well, I reckon you ought to know what you are.  There's no disputing
+it."
+
+"And this silly fellow has made you believe it?"
+
+"Reckon!"
+
+"You've made a great mistake."
+
+"Don't think it."
+
+"But you have: Only take me to C----, and I'll prove it by General
+Cocke, himself, or Squire Humphries, or any body in the town."
+
+"No! no! my friend,--that cock won't fight.  We aint misdoubting at
+all, but you're the right man.  You answer all the descriptions, and
+Jake Sturgis here, has made his affidavy that you chased him, neck and
+neck, as mad as any blind puppy in a dry September, for an hour by sun
+yesterday.  We don't want no more proof."
+
+"And where do you mean to carry me?" I enquired, with all the coolness
+I was master of.
+
+"Well, we'll put you up in a pen we've got a small piece from here; and
+when the sheriff comes, he'll take you back to your old quarters at
+Hamilton jail, where I reckon they'll fix you a little tighter than
+they had you before.  We've sent after the sheriff, and his
+'spose-you-come-and-take-us,' and I reckon they'll be here about
+sun-down."
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+Here was a "situation" indeed.  Burning with indignation, I was yet
+sufficiently master of myself to see that any ebullition of rage on my
+part, would only confirm the impression which they had received of my
+insanity.  I said little, therefore, and that little was confined to an
+attempt to explain the chase of yesterday, which Jake Sturgis had made
+the subject of such a mischievous "affidavy."  But as I could not do
+this without laughter, I incurred the danger of the whip.  My laugh was
+ominous,--Jake edged off once more to the roadside; the man beside me,
+got his bludgeon in readiness, and the potent wagon whip of the leader
+of the party was uplifted in threatening significance.  Laughter was
+clearly out of the question, and it naturally ceased on my part, as I
+got in sight of the "pen" in which I was to be kept secure.  This
+structure is one well known to the less civilized regions of the
+country.  It is a common place of safe-keeping in the absence of jail
+and proper officers.  It is called technically a "bull pen," and
+consists of huge logs, roughly put together, crossing at right angles,
+forming a hollow square,--the logs too massy to be removed, and the
+structure too high to be climbed, particularly if the prisoner should
+happen to be, like myself, fairly tied up hand and foot together.  I
+relucted terribly at being put into this place.  I pleaded urgently,
+struggled fiercely, and was thrust in neck and heels without remorse;
+and, in sheer hopelessness and vexation, I lay with my face prone to
+the earth, and half buried among the leaves, weeping, I shame to
+confess it, the bitter tears of impotence and mortification.
+
+Meantime, the news of my capture went through the country;--not _my_
+capture, mark me, but that of the famous madman, Archy Dargan, who had
+broke Hamilton jail.  This was an event, and visitors began to collect.
+My captors, who kept watch on the outside of my den, had their hands
+full in answering questions.  Man, woman and child, Squire and
+ploughboy, and, finally, dames and damsels, accumulated around me, and
+such a throng of eyes as pierced the crevices of my log dungeon, to see
+the strange monster by whom they were threatened, now disarmed of his
+terrors, were,--to use the language of one of my keepers--"a power to
+calkilate."  This was not the smallest part of my annoyance.  The logs
+were sufficiently far apart to suffer me to see and to be seen, and I
+crouched closer to my rushes, and buried my face more thoroughly than
+ever, if possible, to screen my dishonoured visage from their curious
+scrutiny.  This conduct mightily offended some of the visitors.
+
+"I can't see his face," said one.
+
+"Stir him with a long pole!"--and I was greatly in danger of being
+treated as a surly bear, refusing to dance for his keeper; since one of
+mine seemed very much disposed to gratify the spectator, and had
+actually begun sharpening the end of a ten foot hickory, for the
+purpose of pricking me into more sociableness.  He was prevented from
+carrying his generous design into effect by the suggestion of one of
+his companions.  "Better don't, Bosh; if ever he should git out agen,
+he'd put his ear mark upon you."  "Reckon you're right," was the reply
+of the other, as he laid his rod out of sight.
+
+Meanwhile, the people came and went, each departing visitor sending
+others.  A couple of hours might have elapsed leaving me in this
+humiliating situation, chained to the stake, the beast of a bear
+garden, with fifty greedy and still dissatisfied eyes upon me.  Of
+these, fully one fourth were of the tender gender; some pitied me, some
+laughed, and all congratulated themselves that I was safely laid by the
+heels, incapable of farther mischief.  It was not the most agreeable
+part of their remarks, to find that they all universally agreed that I
+was a most frightful looking object.  Whether they saw my face or not,
+they all discovered that I glared frightfully upon them, and I heard
+one or two of them ask in under tones, "did you see his teeth---how
+sharp!" I gnashed them with a vengeance all the while, you may be sure.
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+The last and worst humiliation was yet to come--that which put me for a
+long season out of humour with all human and woman nature.  Conscious
+of an unusual degree of bustle without, I was suddenly startled by
+sounds of a voice that had been once pleasingly familiar.  It was that
+of a female, a clear, soft, transparent sound, which, till this moment,
+had never been associated in my thoughts with any thing but the most
+perfect of all mortal melodies.  It was now jangled harsh, like "sweet
+bells out of tune."  The voice was that of Emmeline.  "Good heavens!" I
+exclaimed to myself--"can she be here?"  In another instant, I heard
+that of Susannah--the meek Susannah,--she too was among the curious to
+examine the features of the bedlamite, Archy Dargan.  "Dear me," said
+Emmeline, "is he in that place?"
+
+"What a horrid place!" said Susannah.
+
+"It's the very place for such a horrid creature," responded Emmeline.
+
+"Can't he get out, papa?" said Susannah.  "Isn't a mad person very
+strong?"
+
+"Oh! don't frighten a body, Susannah, before we have had a peep," cried
+Emmeline; "I declare I'm afraid to look--do, Col. Nelson, peep first
+and see if there's no danger."  And there was the confounded Col.
+Nelson addressing his eyes to my person, and assuring his fair
+companions, my Emmeline, my Susannah, that there was no sort of
+danger,--that I was evidently in one of my fits of apathy.
+
+"The paroxysm is off for the moment, ladies,--and even if he were
+violent, it is impossible that he should break through the pen.  He
+seems quite harmless--you may look with safety."
+
+"Yes, he's mighty quiet now, Miss,"--said one of my keepers
+encouragingly, "but it's all owing to a close sight of my whip.  He was
+a-guine to be obstropolous more than once, when I shook it over
+him--he's usen to it, I reckon.  You can always tell when the roaring
+fit is coming on--for he breaks out in such a dreadful sort of
+laughing."
+
+"Ha!  Ha!--he laughs does he--Ha!  Ha!" such was the somewhat wild
+interruption offered by Col. Nelson himself.  If my laugh produced such
+an effect upon my keeper, his had a very disquieting effect upon me.
+But, the instinctive conviction that Emmeline and Susannah were now
+gazing upon me, prompted me with a sort of fascination, to lift my head
+and look for them.  I saw their eyes quite distinctly.  Bright
+treacheries!  I could distinguish between them--and there were those of
+Col. Nelson beside them--the three persons evidently in close
+propinquity.
+
+"What a dreadful looking creature!" said Susannah.
+
+"Dreadful!" said Emmeline, "I see nothing so dreadful in him.  He seems
+tame enough.  I'm sure, if that's a madman, I don't see why people
+should be afraid of them."
+
+"Poor man, how bloody he is!" said Susannah.
+
+"We had to tap him, Miss, a leetle upon the head, to bring him quiet.
+He's tame and innocent now, but you should see him when he's going to
+break out.  Only just hear him when he laughs."
+
+I could not resist the temptation.  The last remark of my keeper fell
+on my ears like a suggestion, and suddenly shooting up my head, and
+glaring fiercely at the spectators, I gave them a yell of laughter as
+terrible as I could possibly make it.
+
+"Ah!" was the shriek of Susannah, as she dashed back from the logs.
+Before the sounds had well ceased, they were echoed from without and in
+more fearful and natural style from the practised lungs of Col. Nelson.
+His yells following mine, were enough to startle even me.
+
+"What!" he cried, thrusting his fingers through the crevice, "you would
+come out, would you,--you would try your strength with mine.  Let him
+out,--let him out!  I am ready for him, breast to breast, man against
+man, tooth and nail, forever and forever.  You can laugh too, but--
+Ha!  Ha!  Ha!--what do you say to that?  Shut up, shut up, and be
+ashamed of yourself.  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!"
+
+There was a sensation without.  I could see that Emmeline recoiled from
+the side of her companion.  He had thrown himself into an attitude, had
+grappled the logs of my dungeon, and exhibited a degree of strange
+emotion, which, to say the least, took everybody by surprise.  My chief
+custodian was the first to speak.
+
+"Don't be scared, Mr.--there's no danger--he can't get out."
+
+"But I say let him out--let him out.  Look at him, ladies--look at him.
+You shall see what a madman is--you shall see how I can manage him.
+Hark ye, fellow,--out with him at once.  Give me your whip--I know all
+about his treatment.  You shall see me work him.  I'll manage
+him,--I'll fight with him, and laugh with him too--how we shall
+laugh--Ha!  Ha!  Ha!"
+
+His horrible laughter--for it was horrible--was cut short by an
+unexpected incident.  He was knocked down as suddenly as I had been,
+with a blow from behind, to the astonishment of all around.  The
+assailant was the sheriff of Hamilton jail, who had just arrived and
+detected the fugitive, Archy Dargan--the most cunning of all
+bedlamites, as he afterwards assured me--in the person of the handsome
+Col. Nelson.
+
+"I knew the scamp by his laugh--I heard it half a mile," said the
+sheriff, as he planted himself upon the bosom of the prostrate man, and
+proceeded to leash him in proper order.  Here was a concatenation
+accordingly.
+
+"Who hev' I got in the pen?" was the sapient inquiry of my captor--the
+fellow whose whip had been so potent over my imagination.
+
+"Who?  Have you any body there?" demanded the sheriff.
+
+"I reckon!--We cocht a chap that Jake made affidavy was the madman."
+
+"Let him out then, and beg the man's pardon.  I'll answer for Archy
+Dargan."
+
+My appearance before the astonished damsels was gratifying to neither
+of us.  I was covered with mud and blood,--and they with confusion.
+
+"Oh!  Mr. ----, how could we think it was you, such a fright as they've
+made you."
+
+Such was Miss Emmeline's speech after her recovery.  Susannah's was
+quite as characteristic.
+
+"I am so very sorry, Mr. ----."
+
+"Spare your regrets, ladies," I muttered ungraciously, as I leapt on my
+horse.  "I wish you a very pleasant morning."
+
+"Ha!  Ha!  Ha!" yelled the bedlamite, writhing and bounding in his
+leash--"a very pleasant morning."
+
+The damsels took to their heels, and went off in one direction quite as
+fast as I did in the other.  Since that day, dear reader, I have never
+suffered myself to scare a fool, or to fall in love with a pair of
+twins; and if ever I marry, take my word for it, the happy woman shall
+neither be a Susannah, nor an Emmeline.
+
+
+
+
+THE CHIROPODIST
+
+By BAYARD TAYLOR
+
+
+R. Henry Bartlett was one of three gentlemen who rode from the railroad
+station to Moore's Hotel, at Trenton Falls, on the top of an omnibus;
+and who, having clambered down from that lofty perch, under the
+inspection of forty pairs of eyes leveled at them from the balcony,
+hastened to inscribe their names in the book, and secure the keys of
+their several chambers.  To no one of the three, however, was this
+privacy so welcome as to Mr. Bartlett, who, entering his room with
+flushed face, nervously dismissed the servant, locked the door, and
+dropped into a chair with a pant of relief.  Our business being
+entirely with him, we shall at once dismiss his two companions--whom,
+indeed, we have only introduced as accessories to the principal
+figure--and, taking our invisible seats in the opposite chair, proceed
+to a contemplation of his person.
+
+Age--four, perhaps five, and twenty--certainly not more; height, five
+feet nine inches, with well-developed breast and shoulders; limbs,
+whose firm, ample muscle betrays itself through the straight lines of
+his light summer costume, and hands and feet of agreeable shape;
+complexion fair, with a skin of feminine fineness and transparency,
+whereon the uncontrollable blood writes his emotions so palpably that
+he who runs may read; eyes of a clear, honest blue, but so shy of
+meeting a steady gaze that few know how beautiful they really are;
+mouth full and sensitive, and of so rich and dewy a red that we can not
+help wishing he were a woman that we might be pardoned for kissing it;
+forehead broad, and rather low; hair--but here we hesitate, for his
+enemies would certainly call it red.  Indeed, in some lights it is red,
+but its prevailing tint is brown, with a bronze lustre on the curls.
+As he sits thus, unconscious of our observation, he is certainly
+handsome, in spite of a haunting air of timidity which weakens the
+expression of features not weak in themselves.  On further observation,
+we are inclined to believe that he has not achieved that easy poise of
+self-possession which, in men of becoming modesty, is the result of
+more or less social experience.  He belongs, evidently, to that class
+of awkward, honest, warm-hearted, and sensitive natures whom all men
+like, and some women.
+
+Mr. Bartlett's reflections, after his arrival, were--we have good
+reason to know--after this fashion: "When will I cease to be a fool?
+Why couldn't I stare back at all those people on the balcony as coolly
+as the two fellows who sat beside me?  Why couldn't I get down without
+missing the step and grazing my shin on the wheel?  Why should I walk
+into the house with my head down, and a million of cold little needles
+pricking my back, because men and women, and not sheep, were looking at
+me?  I have at least an average body, as men go--an average intellect,
+too, I think; yet every day I see spindly, brainless squirts [Mr.
+Bartlett would not have used this epithet in conversation, but it
+certainly passed through his mind] put me to shame by their
+self-possession.  The women think me a fool because I have not the
+courage to be natural and unembarrassed, and I carry the consciousness
+of the fact about me whenever I meet them.  Come, come: this will never
+do.  I am a man, and I ought to possess the ordinary resolution of a
+man.  Now, here's a chance to turn over a new leaf.  Nobody knows me;
+no one will notice me particularly; and whether I fail or succeed, the
+experiment will never be brought forward to my confusion hereafter."
+
+Full of a sudden courage he sprang to his feet, and carefully adjusted
+his toilet for the tea-table, whistling cheerfully all the while.  At
+the sound of the gong he descended the staircase, and approached the
+dining-room with head erect, meeting the gaze of the other guests with
+a steadiness which resembled defiance.  He was surprised to find how
+mechanical and transitory were the glances he encountered.  As Mr.
+Bartlett's friend, I should not like to assert that in his efforts to
+appear self-possessed he approached the bounds of effrontery; but I
+have my own private suspicions about the matter.  At the table a lively
+conversation was carried on, and he was able to take many stealthy
+observations of the ladies without being noticed.  To his shame I must
+confess that he had never been seriously in love, though it was a
+condition he most earnestly desired.  Attracted toward women by the
+instinct of his nature, and repelled by his awkward embarrassment,
+there seemed little chance that he would ever attain it.  On this
+particular occasion, however, he cast his eyes around with the air of a
+sultan scanning his slaves before throwing the handkerchief to the
+chosen one.  The female guests--old, young, married, single,
+ill-favored or beautiful--were subjected to the review.  It is
+impossible to describe Mr. Bartlett's satisfaction with himself.
+
+He had passed over twenty-nine of the thirty-five ladies present
+without experiencing any special emotion; but at the thirtieth he was
+suddenly attacked by a recurrence of his habitual timidity.  He fixed
+his eyes upon his toast, painfully conscious by the warmth of his ears
+that he was blushing violently, and actually drank a third cup of tea
+(one more than his usual allowance) before he became sufficiently
+composed to look up again.  Really there was no cause for confusion.
+Her face was turned away, so that even the profile was not wholly
+visible; but the exquisite line of the forehead and cheek, bent inward
+at the angle of the unseen eye, and melting into the sweep of the neck
+and shoulder, were the surest possible prophecies of beauty.  Her
+chestnut hair, rippled at the temples, was gathered into a heavy,
+shining knot at the back of her head, and inwoven with the varnished,
+heart-shaped leaves of the smilax.  More than this Mr. Bartlett did not
+dare to notice.
+
+During the evening he flitted restlessly about the rooms, intent on an
+object which he thus explained to himself: "I should like to see
+whether her front face corresponds to the outline of her cheek.  I am
+alone; it is too late to visit the Falls, and a whim of this sort will
+help me to pass the time."  But the lady belonged, apparently, to a
+numerous party, who took possession of one end of the balcony and sat
+in the moonlight, in such a position that he could not see her features
+with distinctness.  The face was a pure oval, in a frame-work of superb
+hair, and the glossy leaves of smilax glittered like silver in the
+moonlight whenever she chanced to turn her head.  There were songs, and
+she sang--"Scenes that are brightest," or something of the kind,
+suggested by the influences of the night.  Her voice was clear and
+sweet, without much strength--one of those voices which seem to be made
+for singing to one ear alone.  "Here, by God's grace, is the one voice
+for me," thought Mr. Bartlett.  [He had just been reading the "Idyls of
+the King."]  He slipped off to bed, saying to himself: "A little more
+courage, and I may be able to make her acquaintance."
+
+In the morning he set out to make the tour of the Falls.  Entering the
+glen from below, he slowly crept up the black shelves of rock, under
+and around the rush of the amber waters.  The naiads of Trenton, waving
+their scarfs of rainbow brede, tossed their foam fringes in his face:
+above, the dryads of the pine and beech looked down from their seats on
+the brink of the overhanging walls.  Mr. Bartlett was neither a poet
+nor a painter, nor was it necessary; but his temperament (as you may
+know from his skin and the color of his hair) was joyous and excitable,
+and he felt a degree of delight that made him forget his own self.  I
+fancy there are no embarrassing conventionalisms at the bottom of the
+earth--wherever that may be--and the glen at Trenton is two hundred
+feet on the way thither.  Our friend enjoyed to the full this partial
+release, and was surprised to find that he could assist several married
+ladies to climb the slippery steps at the High Pall without consciously
+blushing.
+
+How it came to pass he never could rightly tell, but certain it is
+that, on lifting his eyes after a long contemplation of the shifting
+slides of fretted amber, he found himself alone in the glen--with the
+exception of a young lady who sat on the rocks a few paces distant.  At
+the first glance he thought it was a child, for the slight form was
+habited in a Bloomer dress, and a broad hat shaded the graceful head.
+The wide trowsers were gathered around her ankles, and a pair of the
+prettiest feet he had ever seen dangled in the edge of the swift
+stream.  She was idly plucking up tufts of grass from the crevices of
+the rock, and tossing them in the mouth of the cataract, and her face
+was partly turned toward him.  It was the fair unknown of the evening
+before!  There was no mistaking the lovely cheek and the rippled
+chestnut hair.
+
+Mr. Bartlett felt--as he afterward expressed himself--a warm, sweet
+shudder run through all his veins.  Alone with that lovely creature,
+below the outside surface of the earth!  "Oh, if I could but speak to
+her!  Her dress shows that she can lay aside the soulless forms of
+society in such a place as this: why not I?  There's Larkin, and
+Kirkland, and lots of fellows I know, wouldn't hesitate a moment.  But
+what shall I say?  'The scenery's very fine?'  Pshaw!  But the first
+sentence is the only difficulty---the rest will come of itself.  What
+if I address her boldly as an old acquaintance, and then apologize for
+my mistake?  Upon my word, a good idea!  So natural and possible!"
+
+Having determined upon this plan, he immediately put it into action
+before the resolve had time to cool.  His step was firm and his bearing
+was sufficiently confident as he approached her; but when she lifted
+her long lashes, disclosing a pair of large, limpid, hazel eyes, which
+regarded him, unabashed, with the transient curiosity one bestows upon
+a stranger, his face, I am sure, betrayed the humbug of the thing.  The
+lady, however, not anticipating what followed, could scarcely have
+remarked it.
+
+Raising his hat as he reached the corner of the rock upon which she
+sat, he said, in a voice so curiously balanced between his enforced
+boldness and his reflected surprise thereat, that he hardly recognized
+it as his own:
+
+"How do you do, Miss Lawrence?"
+
+The lady looked at him wonderingly--steady, child-like eyes, that
+frankly and innocently perused his face, as if seeking for some trace
+of a forgotten acquaintance.  Mr. Bartlett could not withdraw his,
+although he knew that his face was getting redder and his respiration
+more unsteady every moment.  He stammered forth:
+
+"Miss Lawrence, of South Carolina, I believe."
+
+"You are mistaken, Sir," said the lady, with the least shade of
+coldness in her voice, but it fell upon Mr. Bartlett like the wind from
+an iceberg--"I am not Miss Lawrence."
+
+"I--I beg your pardon," he answered, somewhat confusedly.  "You
+resemble her; I expected to meet her here.  Will you please tell her I
+enquired for her?  Here's my card!"  Therewith he thrust both hands
+into his vest pockets, extracted a card from one of them, and laid it
+hastily upon the rock beside her.
+
+"Bertha!  Bertha!" rang through the glen, above the roar of the
+waterfall.  The remainder of the party which the young lady had
+preceded now came into view descending toward her.
+
+"Good-day, Miss Lawrence!" said Mr. Bartlett, again lifting his hat,
+and retracing his steps.  For his life he could not have passed her and
+run the gauntlet of the faces of her friends upon the narrow path.
+Every soul of them would have instantly seen what a fool he was.
+Moreover, he had achieved enough for one day.  The soldier who storms a
+perilous breach and finds himself alive on the inside of it could not
+be more astonished than he.  "I blundered awfully," he thought; "but,
+after all, it's the one way to learn."--"Who's your friend, Bertha?"
+asked her brother, Dick Morris, the avant-guard of the party.  "I never
+saw the fellow before."
+
+"If you had not frightened him by your sudden appearance," said she,
+"you might have discovered.  A Southerner, I suppose, though he don't
+look like one.  He addressed me as Miss Lawrence, of South Carolina,
+and afterwards left me his card, to be given to her.  What shall I do
+with it?"
+
+"Ha! the card will tell us who he is," said Dick, picking it up.  He
+instantly burst into a roar of laughter.  "Ha! ha!  This comes of
+wearing a Bloomer, Bertha!  Though I must say it's by no means
+complimentary to your little feet.  Who'd suspect _you_ of having
+corns?"
+
+"Dick, what _do_ you mean?"
+
+"Ha! ha! no doubt I came at the nick of time to prevent him from
+pulling off your shoes."
+
+"DICK!"
+
+Therewith she impatiently jerked the card from her brother's hand.  It
+was large, thick, handsomely glazed, and contained the following
+inscription:
+
+          PROFESSOR HURLBUT,
+             Chiropodist
+  To her Majesty Queen Victoria, and the
+       Nobility of Great Britain.
+
+
+"Incredible!" she exclaimed.  "So young, and embarrassed in his
+manners; how could he ever have taken hold of the Queen's foot?"
+
+"Embarrassed indeed!" said Dick.  "I think he has a very cool way of
+procuring patients.  But, faith, he's chosen a romantic operating-room.
+After climbing down these rocks the corns naturally begin to twinge,
+and here's the Professor on hand.  Behold the march of civilization!"
+
+Bertha did not fall into her brother's vein of badinage, as usual.  She
+was vexed that the fresh, manly face and blue eyes into which she had
+looked belonged to a charlatan, and vexed at herself for being vexed
+thereat.  It was not so easy, however, to dismiss Professor Hurlbut
+from her mind, for Dick had related the incident to the others of the
+party, with his own embellishments, and numberless were the jokes to
+which it gave rise throughout the day.
+
+Meantime Mr. Bartlett, in happy ignorance of the worst blunder he had
+ever made, returned to the hotel.  The day previous, at Utica, he had
+been annoyed by an itinerant extractor of corns, suppressor of bunions,
+and regulator of irregular nails, whose proffered card he had put into
+his pocket in order to get rid of the man.  It was this card which he
+had presented to Miss Morris as his own.  On reaching the hotel he
+easily ascertained her real name and place of residence, with the
+additional fact that the party were to leave for Saratoga on the
+morrow.  It occurred to him also that Saratoga, in the height of the
+season, would be well worth a visit.
+
+In the evening he again happened to meet the lady on the stairs.  He
+retreated into a corner of the landing, to make room for her ample
+skirts, and, catching a glance of curious interest for her hazel eyes,
+ventured to say: "Good-evening, Miss Law-ris!" suddenly correcting her
+name in the middle.  Bertha, in spite of the womanly dignity which she
+could very well summon to her aid, could not suppress a fragment of gay
+laughter, in which the supposed Professor joined.  A slight inclination
+of the lovely head acknowledged his salutation.
+
+The next morning Miss Bertha Morris left, with her party, for Saratoga;
+and after allowing a day to intervene, in order to avoid the appearance
+of design, Mr. Henry Bartlett followed.  He did not admit to himself in
+the least that this movement was prompted by love; but he was aware of
+an intense desire to make her acquaintance.  The earnestness which this
+desire infused into his nature gave him courage; the man within him was
+beginning to wake and stir; and a boyhood of character, prolonged
+beyond the usual date, was dropping rapidly into the irrecoverable
+conditions of the past.
+
+It chanced that they both took quarters in the same hotel; and great
+was Bertha's astonishment; on her first morning visit to the Congress
+Spring, to find Professor Hurlbut quietly quaffing his third glass.  He
+looked so much like a gentleman; he was really so fresh and rosy, so
+genuinely masculine in comparison with the blasé youths she was
+accustomed to see, that, forgetting his occupation, she acknowledged
+his bow with a cordiality which provoked herself the moment afterward.
+Mr. Bartlett was so much encouraged by this recognition that he
+ventured to walk beside her on their return to the hotel.  She, having
+in the impulsive frankness and forgetfulness of her nature returned his
+greeting, felt bound to suffer the temporary companionship,
+embarrassing though it was.  Fortunately none of her friends were in
+sight, nor was it probable that they knew the chiropodist in any case.
+She would be rid of him at the hotel door, and would take good care to
+avoid him in the future.
+
+"How delightful it is here!" said Mr. Bartlett, thinking more of his
+present position than of Saratoga in general.
+
+An inclination of the head was her only reply.
+
+"This is my first visit," he added; "and I can not conceive of a summer
+society gayer or more inspiring."
+
+"I have no doubt you will find it a very favorable place for your
+business," said Bertha, maliciously recalling him to his occupation, as
+she thought.
+
+"Oh, I hope so!" exclaimed the innocent Bartlett.  For was not his only
+business in Saratoga the endeavour to make her acquaintance?  And was
+he not already in a fair way to be successful?
+
+"Disgusting!" thought Bertha, as she suddenly turned and sprang up the
+steps in front of the ladies' drawing-room.  "He thinks of nothing but
+his horrid corn-plaster, or whatever it is!  I really believe he
+suspects that I need his services.  That such a man should be so brazen
+a charlatan--it is monstrous!"
+
+Such thoughts were not an auspicious commencement for the day, and
+Bertha's friends remarked that she was not in her sunniest mood.  She
+was very careful, however, not to speak of her meeting with the
+chiropodist; there would have been no end to her brother's banter.  She
+was also vexed that she could not forget his honest blue eyes, and the
+full, splendid curves of his mouth.  Indignation, she supposed, was her
+predominant emotion; but, in reality, there was a strong under-feeling
+of admiration, had she been aware of it.
+
+After dinner Mr. Bartlett, occupying the post of observation at his
+window (room No. 1346, seventh story), saw the Morris party--Bertha
+among them--enter a carriage and drive away in the direction of the
+Lake.  Half an hour later, properly attired, he mounted a handsome roan
+at the door of a livery-stable, and set off in the same direction.  He
+was an accomplished rider, his legs being somewhat shorter than was
+required by due proportion, owing to which circumstance he appeared
+taller on horseback than afoot.  Like all horsemen, he was thoroughly
+self-possessed when in the saddle; and could he but have ridden into
+drawing-rooms and dining-rooms, would have felt no trace of his
+customary timidity.
+
+Bertha noticed his figure afar off, approaching the carriage on a rapid
+trot, but made no remark.  Dick, who had a quick eye for good points
+both in man and beast, exclaimed, "By Jove! there's a fine pair of
+them!  Look at the action of that roan!  See how the fellow rises at
+the right moment without leaving his saddle! no jumping or bumping
+there!"  Mr. Bartlett came on at a staving pace, lifting his hat to the
+ladies with perfect grace as he passed.  He would have blushed could he
+have felt a single ripple of the wave of admiration which flowed after
+him.  Bertha alone was silent, more than ever provoked and disgusted
+that such a gallant outward embodiment of manhood should be connected
+with such disagreeable associations!  Had he been any thing but a
+chiropodist!  A singular feeling of shame, for his sake, prevented her
+from betraying his personality to her friends; and it came to pass that
+they innocently defended the very charlatan whom they had so ridiculed
+in the glen at Trenton from her half-disparaging observations.
+
+After all, she thought, the man may be honest in his profession, which
+he may look upon as simply that of a physician.  A pain in the toe is
+probably as troublesome as a pain in the head; and why should not one
+be cured as well as the other?  A dentist, I am sure, is a very
+respectable person; and, for my part, I would as soon operate on a
+corny toe as a carious tooth.  [I would not have you suppose, ladies,
+that Miss Morris made use of such horrid expressions in her
+conversation: I am only putting her thoughts into my own words.]
+Still, the conclusion to which she invariably arrived was, "I wish he
+were any thing else!"
+
+That evening there was a hop at the hotel.  The Morrises were
+enthusiastic dancers--even the widow, Bertha's mother, not disdaining a
+quadrille.  Mr. Bartlett, in an elegant evening dress, his eyes
+sparkling with new light, was there also.  In the course of the day he
+had encountered a Boston cousin, Miss Jane Heath, a tall, dashing girl,
+some two or three years older than himself.  She was one of the few
+women with whom he felt entirely at ease.  There was an honest,
+cousinly affection between them; and he always felt relieved, in
+society, when supported by her presence.
+
+"Now, Harry," said Jane, as they entered the room, "remember, the first
+schottisch belongs to me.  After that, I'll prove my disinterestedness
+by finding you partners."
+
+As he led her upon the floor his eyes dropped in encountering those of
+Bertha Morris, whose floating tulle was just settling itself to rest as
+she whirled out of the ranks.  Poor Bertha! had she been alone she
+could have cried.  He danced as well as he rode--the splendid, mean
+fellow! the handsome, horrid--chiropodist!  Well, it was all outward
+varnish, no doubt.  If it was true that he had relieved the nobility of
+Great Britain of their corns, he must have acquired something of the
+elegances of their society.  But such ease and grace in dancing could
+not be picked up by mere imitation--it was a born gift.  Even her
+brother Dick, who was looked upon as the highest result of fashionable
+education in such matters, was not surer or lighter of foot.
+
+An hour later Bertha, who had withdrawn from the dancers and was
+refreshing herself with the mild night air at an open window, found
+herself temporarily separated from her friends.  Mr. Bartlett had
+evidently been watching for such an opportunity, for he presently
+disengaged himself from the crowd and approached her.
+
+"You are fond of dancing, Miss Morris?" said he.
+
+"Ye-es," she answered, hesitatingly, divided between her determination
+to repel his effrontery and her inability to do so.  She turned partly
+away, and gazed steadily into the moonshine.
+
+Mr. Bartlett, however, was not to be discouraged.  "Still, even the
+most agreeable exercise will fatigue at last," he remarked.
+
+"Oh," said Bertha, rather sharply, suspecting a professional meaning in
+his words, "my feet are perfectly sound, I assure you, Sir!"
+
+It is not to be denied that he was a little surprised at the
+earnestness of an assertion which, in a playful tone, would not have
+seemed out of place.  "I think you proved that at Trenton Falls," he
+rejoined; "but will you grant me the pleasure of another test during
+the next quadrille?"
+
+"No further test is necessary, Sir.  I presume you have patients enough
+already!"  And having uttered these words as coolly as her indignation
+allowed, Bertha moved away from the window.
+
+"Patience?" said Mr. Bartlett to himself, wholly misapprehending her
+meaning; "yes, I shall have patience while there is a chance to hope.
+But why did she speak of patience?  Women, I have heard, are natural
+diplomatists, and have a thousand indirect ways of saying things which
+they do not wish to speak outright.  Could she mean to test the
+sincerity of my wish to know her.  It is not to be expected that a
+stranger, so awkwardly introduced, should be received without
+hesitation--mistrust, perhaps.  No, no, I must persevere; she would
+despise me if I did not understand her meaning."
+
+The following days were cold and rainy.  There was an end of the gay
+out-door life which offered him so many chances of meeting Miss Morris,
+and the fleeting glimpses he caught of her in the great dining-hall or
+the passage leading to the ladies' parlor were simply tantalizing.  I
+have no doubt there was a mute appeal in his eyes which must have
+troubled the young lady's conscience; for she avoided meeting his gaze.
+The knowledge of his presence made her uneasy; there was an atmosphere
+about the hotel which she would willingly have escaped.  She walked
+with the consciousness of an eye every where following her, and, in
+spite of herself, furtively sought for it.  We, who are aware of her
+mystification, may be amused at it; but imagine yourselves in the same
+situation, ladies, and you will appreciate its horrors!
+
+No, this was not longer to be endured, and so, after five or six days
+at Saratoga, the party suddenly left for Niagara.  Bertha, an only
+daughter, was a petted child, and might have had her own way much
+oftener than was really the case.  The principal use she made of her
+privilege was to follow the bent of a remarkably free, joyous, and
+confiding nature.  She was just unconventional enough to preserve an
+individuality, and thereby distinguish herself from thousands of girls
+who seem to have been cut out by a single pattern.  The sphere within
+which true womanhood moves is much wider than most women suspect.  To
+the frank, honest, and pure nature, what are called "the bounds of
+propriety" are its natural horizon-ring, moving with it, and inclosing
+it every where without restraining its freedom.
+
+We shall not be surprised to find that shortly after Miss Morris's
+departure Room No. 1346 in the Catanational Hotel had another tenant.
+Mr. Bartlett followed, as a matter of course.  He began nevertheless,
+to feel very much like a fool, and--as he afterward confessed--spent
+most of the time between Utica and the Suspension Bridge in
+deliberating whether he should seek or avoid an interview.  As if such
+discussions with one's self ever amounted to any thing!
+
+Ascertaining the lady's presence, he decided to devote his first day to
+Niagara, trusting the rest to chance.  In fact, he could not have done
+a more sensible thing, for there is a Special Chance appointed for such
+cases.  The forenoon was not over before he experienced its operations.
+Bertha, cloaked and cowled in India-rubber, stood on the hurricane deck
+of the "Maid of the Mist," as the venturesome little steamer approached
+the corner of the Horse-Shoe Fall.  Looking up through blinding spray
+at the shimmer of emerald and dazzling silver against the sky, she
+crept near a broad-shouldered figure to shelter herself from the stormy
+gusts of the Fall.  Suddenly the boat wheeled, at the very edge of the
+tremendous sheet, and swirled away from the vortex with a heave which
+threw her off her feet.  She did not fall, however; for strong arms
+caught her waist and steadied her until the motion subsided.
+
+Through the rush of the spray and the roar of the Fall she indistinctly
+heard a voice apologizing for the unceremonious way in which the arms
+had seized her.  She did not speak---fearful, in fact, of having her
+mouth filled with water--but frankly gave the gentleman her hand.  The
+monkish figure bowed low over the wet fingers, and respectfully
+withdrew.  As the mist cleared away she encountered familiar eyes.  Was
+it possible?  The Chiropodist!
+
+This discovery gave Bertha no little uneasiness.  A subtle instinct
+told her that he had followed on her account, in spite of her cornless
+feet.  Perhaps he had left a lucrative practice at Saratoga--and why?
+There was but one answer to the question, and she blushed painfully as
+she admitted its possibility.  What was to be done?  She would tell her
+brother; but no--young men are so rash and violent.  Avoid him?  That
+was difficult and embarrassing.  Ignore him?  Yes, as much as possible,
+and, if necessary, frankly tell him that she could not accept his
+acquaintance.  On the whole, this course seemed best, though an
+involuntary sympathy with her victim made her wish that it were all
+over.
+
+In the afternoon Mrs. Morris, as usual, took her summer siesta; Dick
+had found a friend, and was whirling somewhere behind a pair of fast
+horses; and, finally, Bertha, bored by the society in the ladies'
+parlor, took her hat and a book and walked over to Goat Island.  She
+made the circuit of its forests and flashing water views, and finally
+selected a shady seat on its western side, whence she could look out on
+the foamy stairs of the Rapids.  The unnecessary book lay in her lap; a
+more wonderful book than any printed volume lay open before her.
+
+Who shall dare to interpret the day-dream of a maiden?  Soothed by the
+mellow roar of the waters, fascinated by the momentary leaps of spray
+from the fluted, shell-shaped hollows of the descending waves, and
+freshened by the wind that blew from the cool Canadian shore, she
+nursed her wild weeds of fancy till they blossomed into brighter than
+garden-flowers.  Meanwhile a thunder-cloud rose, dark and swift, in the
+west.  The menaces of its coming were unheard, and Bertha was first
+recalled to consciousness by the sudden blast of cold wind that
+precedes the ram.
+
+When she looked up, the gray depth of storm already arched high over
+the Canadian woods, and big drops began to rap on the shingly bank
+below her.  A little further down was a summer-house--open to the west,
+it is true, but it offered the only chance of shelter within view.  She
+had barely reached it before a heavy peal of thunder shattered the
+bolts of the rain, and it rushed down in an overwhelming flood.
+Mounted on the bench and crouched in the least exposed corner, she was
+endeavoring, with but partial success, to shelter herself from the
+driving flood, when a man, coming from the opposite end of the island,
+rushed up at full speed.
+
+"Here," he panted, "Miss Morris, take this umbrella!  I saw you at a
+distance, and made haste to reach you.  I hope you're not wet."  The
+spacious umbrella was instantly clapped over her, and the inevitable
+Chiropodist placed himself in front to steady it, fully exposed to the
+rain.
+
+Bertha was not proof against this gallant self-sacrifice.  In the
+surprise of the storm--the roar of which, mingled with that of the
+Fall, made a continuous awful peal--the companionship of any human
+being was a relief, and she felt grateful for Professor Hurlbut's
+arrival.  Chiropodist though he was, he must not suffer for her sake.
+
+"Here!" said she, lifting the umbrella, "it will shelter us both.
+Quick!  I insist upon it:" seeing that he hesitated.
+
+There was really no time for parley, for every drop pierced him to the
+skin, and the next moment found him planted before her, interposing a
+double shield.  His tender anxiety for her sake quite softened Bertha.
+How ungrateful she had been!
+
+"This is the second time I am obliged to you to-day, Sir," said she.
+"I am sorry that I have unintentionally given you trouble."
+
+"Oh, Miss Morris," cried the delighted Bartlett, "don't mention it!
+It's nothing; I am quite amphibious, you know."
+
+"You might be now in a place of shelter but for me," she answered,
+penitently.
+
+"I'd rather be here than any where else!" he exclaimed, in a burst of
+candor which quite overleaped the barrier of self-possession and came
+down on the other side.  "If you would allow me to be your friend, Miss
+Morris--if you would permit me to--to speak with you now and then;
+if--if--"  Here he paused, not knowing precisely what more to say, yet
+feeling that he had already said enough to make his meaning clear.
+
+Bertha was cruelly embarrassed, but only for a moment.  Professor
+Hurlbut had at least been frank and honest in his avowal--she felt his
+sincerity through and through--and he deserved equal honesty at her
+hands.
+
+"I am your debtor," said she, in an uncertain voice; "and you have a
+right to expect gratitude, at least, from me.  I can not, therefore,
+refuse your acquaintance, though, as you know, your--your occupation
+would be considered objectionable by many persons."
+
+"My occupation!"
+
+"Your profession, then.  I must candidly confess that I have a
+prejudice--a foolish one, perhaps, against it."
+
+"My profession!" cried the astonished Bartlett; "why, I have none!"
+
+"Well--it _is_ scarcely to be called a 'profession,' but it is always
+liable to the charge of charlatanism: pardon me the word.  And it may
+be ridiculed in so many ways.  I wish, for your sake--for I believe you
+to be capable of better things--that you would adopt some other
+business."
+
+Mr. Bartlett's amazement was now beyond all bounds, "Good Heavens!" he
+exclaimed, "Miss Morris, what do you mean?"
+
+Starting up from the bench as he uttered these words he jostled
+Bertha's book from her hand.  The leaves parted in falling, and a large
+card, escaping from between them, fluttered down upon the floor.  He
+picked it up and restored it to her, with the book.
+
+"There!" she answered, giving the card back again, "there is what I
+mean!  Must I give you your own card in order to acquaint you with your
+own business?"
+
+Mr. Bartlett looked at it for a second in blank amazement; then, like a
+flash of lightning, the whole course of the misunderstanding flashed
+across his mind.  He burst--I am ashamed to say--into a tremendous
+paroxysm of mingled tears and laughter: were he not so strong and
+masculine a man, I should say, "hysterics."  In vain he struggled to
+find words.  At every attempt a fresh convulsion of laughter seized
+him, and tears, mingled with rain, flowed down his cheeks.
+
+Bertha began to be alarmed at this strange and unexpected convulsion.
+"Professor Hurlbut!" said she, "what is the matter?"
+
+"Professor Hurlbut!" he repeated, in a faint, scarcely audible scream;
+then, striving to suppress his uncontrollable fit of delight and
+comical surprise, he sank upon the bench at her feet, shaking from head
+to foot with the effort.
+
+"A-a-ah!" he at last panted forth, as if heaving an atlas-load from his
+heart, and stood erect before her.  With his face still flushed and
+eyes sparkling he was as handsome an embodiment of youth and life as
+one could wish to see.  In two words he explained to her the mistake,
+on learning which Bertha blushed deeply, saying: "How could I ever have
+supposed it!"  And then, reflecting upon the inferences which could be
+drawn from such an expression, became suddenly shy and silent.
+
+Of course she accepted Mr. Bartlett's escort to the hotel when the rain
+was over, and he was presented to the agonised mother, who hailed him
+as a deliverer of her daughter from untold dangers, and privately
+remarked, afterward, to the latter: "Upon my word, a very nice young
+man, my dear!" Dick's commendation was no less emphatic though
+differently expressed: "A good fellow! well made in the shoulders and
+flanks: fine action, but wants a little training!"
+
+By this time, ladies, you have probably guessed the conclusion.  My
+story would neither be agreeable nor true (I am relating facts) if they
+were not married, and did not have two children, and live happy ever
+after.  Married they were, in the course of time, and happy they also
+are, for I visit them now and then.
+
+One thing I had nearly forgotten.  When Mrs. Bartlett chooses to tease
+her husband in that playful way so delightful to married lovers, she
+invariably calls him "Professor Hurlbut," while he retorts with "Miss
+Lawrence, of South Carolina."  Moreover, in Mrs. B.'s confidential
+little boudoir, over her work-stand, hangs a neatly-framed card,
+whereon you may read:
+
+           PROFESSOR HURLBUT,
+              Chiropodist
+  To her Majesty Queen Victoria, and the
+        Nobility of Great Britain.
+
+
+
+
+"MR. DOOLEY ON CORPORAL PUNISHMENT"
+
+By F. P. DUNNE
+
+Copyright 1907 by H. H. McClure & Co.
+
+
+"Well, sir," said Mr. Dooley, "I see that some school-teachers down
+East have been petitioning to be allowed to slug th' young."
+
+"How's that?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
+
+"Well," said Mr. Dooley "they say they can't do anything with these
+tender little growths onless they use a club.  They want the boord iv
+iddycation to restore what's called corporal punishment--that is th'
+fun iv lickin' some wan that can't fight back.  Says wan iv thim: 'Th'
+little wans undher our care are far fr'm bein' th' small angels that
+they look.  As a matther iv fact they are rebellyous monsthers that
+must be suppressed be vigorous an',' says he, 'stern measures.  Is it
+right,' says he, 'that us school masthers shud daily risk our lives at
+th' hands iv these feerocious an' tigerish inimies iv human s'ciety
+without havin' a chance to pound thim?  Yisterdah a goolden haired imp
+iv perdition placed a tack in me chair.  To-day I found a dead rat in
+the desk.  At times they write opprobyous epithets about me on th'
+blackboard; at other times crood but pinted carrycachures.  Nawthin'
+will conthrol thim.  They hurl the murdherous spitball.  They pull th'
+braid iv th' little girl.  They fire baseballs through th' windows.
+Sometimes lumps iv chewin' gum are found undher their desks where they
+have stuck thim f'r further use.  They shuffle their feet whin I'm
+narvous.  They look around thim when they think I'm not lookin'.  They
+pass notes grossly insultin' each other.  Moral suasion does no good.
+I have thried writin' to their parents askin' thim to cripple their
+offspring, an' th' parents have come over an' offered to fight me.
+I've thried keepin' thim afther school, makin' thim write compositions
+an' shakin' th' milk teeth out iv thim, but to no avail.  Me opinyon is
+that th' av'rage small boy is a threecherous, dangerous crather like
+th' Apachy Indyan' an' that th' on'y thing to do with him is to slam
+him with a wagon spoke,' says he.
+
+"An th' boord iv iddycation is discussin' th' petition.  It can't quite
+make up its mind whether Solomon wasn't right.  Solomon said, accordin'
+to Hogan, spile th' rod an' save th' child.  He must've had a large
+famly if he was annywhere near Tiddy Rosenfelt's law iv av'rages.  I
+don't see how he cud've spared time f'r writin' from correctin' his
+fam'ly.  He must've set up nights.  Annyhow, th' boord iv iddycation is
+discussin' whether he was right or not.  I don't know mys'lf.  All I
+know is that if I was a life insurance canvasser or a coal dealer or
+something else that made me illegible to be a mimber iv a boord iv
+iddycation, an' an able-bodied man six feet tall come to me f'r
+permission to whale a boy three feet tall, I'd say: 'I don't know
+whether ye are compitint.  Punishing people requires special thrainin'.
+It ain't iv'rybody that's suited f'r th' job.  Ye might bungle it.
+Just take off ye'er coat an' vest an' step into th' next room an' be
+examined.'  An' in th' next room th' ambitious iddycator wud find James
+J. Jeffreys or some other akely efficient expert ready f'r him an' if
+he come back alive he'd have a certy-ficate entitlin' him to whack anny
+little boy he met--except mine.
+
+"Sure there'd be very few people to say they believed in corporal
+punishment if corporal punishment was gin'ral.  I wudden't give anny
+wan th' right to lick a child that wanted to lick a child.  No wan shud
+be licked till he's too old to take a licking.  If it's right to larrup
+an infant iv eight, why ain't it right to larrup wan iv eighteen?
+Supposin' Prisidint Hadley iv Yale see that th' left tackle or th' half
+back iv th' football team wasn't behavin' right.  He'd been caught
+blowin' a pea shooter at th' pro-fissor iv iliminthry chemisthry, or
+pullin' th' dure bell iv th' pro-fissor iv dogmatic theosophy.  He
+don't know any different.  He's not supposed to ralize th' distinction
+between right an' wrong yet.  Does Prisidint Hadley grab th' child be
+th' ear an' conduct him to a corner iv th' schoolroom an wallup him?
+Ye bet he does not.  Prisidint Hadley may be a bold man in raisin'
+money or thranslatin' Homer, but he knows th' diff'rence between
+courage and sheer recklessness.  If he thried to convince this young
+idea how to shoot in this careless way ye'd read in the pa-apers that
+th' fire department was thryin' to rescue Prisidint Hadley fr'm th'
+roof iv th' buildin' but he declined to come down.
+
+"But what wud ye do with a child that refused to obey ye?" demanded Mr.
+Hennessy.
+
+"Not bein' ayther a parent or an iddycator I nivir had such a child,"
+said Mr. Dooley.  "I don't know what I'd do if I was.  Th' on'y thing I
+wudden't do wud be to hit him if he cudden't hit back, an' thin I'd
+think twice about it.  Th' older I grow th' more things there are I
+know I don't know annything about.  An' wan iv thim is childher.  I
+can't figure thim out at all.
+
+"What d'ye know about thim little wans that ye have so carefully reared
+be lavin' thim in th' mornin' befure they got up an' losin' ye'er
+temper with at night whin ye come home fr'm wurruk?  They don't know ye
+an' ye don't know thim.  Ye'll niver know till 'tis too late.  I've
+often wondhered what a little boy thinks about us that call oursilves
+grown up because we can't grow anny more.  We wake him up in th'
+mornin' whin he wants to sleep.  We make him wash his face whin he
+knows it don't need washin' thin as much as it will later an' we sind
+him back to comb his hair in a way he don't approve iv at all.  We fire
+him off to school just about th' time iv day whin anny wan ought to be
+out iv dures.  He trudges off to a brick buildin' an' a tired teacher
+tells him a lot iv things he hasn't anny inthrest in at all, like how
+manny times sivin goes into a hundhred an' nine an' who was King iv
+England in thirteen twinty-two an' where is Kazabazoo on the map.  He
+has to set there most iv th' pleasant part iv th' day with sixty other
+kids an' ivry time be thries to do annything that seems right to him
+like jabbin' a frind with a pin or carvin' his name on the desk, th'
+sthrange lady or gintleman that acts as his keeper swoops down on him
+an' makes him feel like a criminal.  To'rds evenin' if he's been good
+an' repressed all his nacharal instincts he's allowed to go home an'
+chop some wood.  Whin he's done that an' has just managed to get a few
+iv his frinds together an' they're beginnin' to get up interest in th'
+spoort iv throwin' bricks down into a Chinese laundhry his little
+sister comes out an' tells him he's wanted at home.  He instinctively
+pulls her hair an' goes in to study his lessons so that he'll be able
+to-morrow to answer some ridiklous questions that are goin' to be asked
+him.  Afther a while ye come home an' greet him with ye'er usual glare
+an' ye have supper together.  Ye do most iv th' talkin', which ain't
+much.  If he thries to cut in with somethin' that intelligent people
+ought to talk about ye stop him with a frown.  Afther supper he's
+allowed to study some more, an' whin he's finished just as th' night
+begins to look good he's fired off to bed an' th' light is taken away
+fr'm him an' he sees ghosts an' hobgoberlins in th' dark an' th' next
+he knows he's hauled out iv bed an' made to wash his face again.
+
+"An' so it goes.  If he don't do anny iv these things or if he doesn't
+do thim th' way ye think is th' right way some wan hits him or wants
+to.  Talk about happy childhood.  How wud ye like to have twinty or
+thirty people issuin' foolish ordhers to ye, makin' ye do things ye
+didn't want to do, an' niver undherstandin' at all why it was so?  Tis
+like livin' on this earth an' bein' ruled by the inhabitants iv Mars.
+He has his wurruld, ye can bet on that, an' 'tis a mighty important
+wurruld.  Who knows why a kid wud rather ate potatoes cooked nice an'
+black on a fire made of sthraw an' old boots thin th' delicious oatmeal
+so carefully an' so often prepared f'r him be his kind parents?  Who
+knows why he thinks a dark hole undher a sidewalk is a robbers' cave?
+Who knows why he likes to collect in wan pocket a ball iv twine, glass
+marbles, chewin' gum, a dead sparrow an' half a lemon?  Who knows what
+his seasons are?  They are not mine, an' they're not ye'ers, but he
+goes as reg'lar fr'm top time to marble time an' fr'm marble time to
+kite time as we go fr'm summer to autumn an' autumn to winter.  To-day
+he's thryin' to annihilate another boy's stick top with his; to-morrow
+he's thrying to sail a kite out iv a tillygraft wire.  Who knows why he
+does it?
+
+"Faith we know nawthin' about him an' he knows nawthin' about us.  I
+can raymimber whin I was a little boy but I can't raymimber how I was a
+little boy.  I call back 's though it was yisterdah th' things I did,
+but why I did thim I don't know.  Faith, if I cud look for'ard to th'
+things I've done I cud no more aisily explain why I was goin' to do
+thim.  Maybe we're both wrong in the way we look at each other--us an'
+th' childher.  We think we've grown up an' they don't guess that we're
+childher.  If they knew us betther they'd not be so surprised at our
+actions an' wudden't foorce us to hit thim.  Whin ye issued some
+foolish ordher to ye'er little boy he'd say: 'Pah-pah is fractious
+to-day.  Don't ye think he ought to have some castor ile?'"
+
+"It's a wise child that knows his own father," said Mr. Hennessy.
+
+"It's a happy child that doesn't," said Mr. Dooley.
+
+
+
+
+OVER A WOOD FIRE
+
+DONALD G. MITCHELL
+
+
+I have got a quiet farmhouse in the country, a very humble place, to be
+sure, tenanted by a worthy enough man of the old New England stamp,
+where I sometimes go for a day or two in the winter, to look over the
+farm accounts and to see how the stock is thriving on the winter's keep.
+
+One side the door, as you enter from the porch, is a little parlor,
+scarce twelve feet by ten, with a cozy-looking fireplace, a heavy oak
+floor, a couple of armchairs, and a brown table with carved lions'
+feet.  Out of this room opens a little cabinet, only big enough for a
+broad bachelor bedstead, where I sleep upon feathers, and wake in the
+morning with my eye upon a saucy colored lithographic print of some
+fancy "Bessy."
+
+It happens to be the only house in the world of which I am _bona fide_
+owner, and I take a vast deal of comfort in treating it just as I
+choose.  I manage to break some article of furniture almost every time
+I pay it a visit; and if I cannot open the window readily of a morning,
+to breathe the fresh air, I knock out a pane or two of glass with my
+boot.  I lean against the walls in a very old armchair there is on the
+premises, and scarce ever fail to worry such a hole in the plastering
+as would set me down for a round charge for damages in town, or make a
+prim housewife fret herself into a raging fever.  I laugh out loud with
+myself, in my big armchair, when I think that I am neither afraid of
+one nor the other.
+
+As for the fire, I keep the little hearth so hot as to warm half the
+cellar below, and the whole space between the jams roars for two hours
+together with white flame.  To be sure, the windows are not very tight,
+between broken panes and bad joints, so that the fire, large as it is,
+is by no means an extravagant comfort.
+
+As night approaches, I have a huge pile of oak and hickory placed
+beside the hearth; I put out the tallow candle on the mantel (using the
+family snuffers, with one leg broken), then, drawing my chair directly
+in front of the blazing wood, and setting one foot on each of the old
+iron fire-dogs (until they grow too warm), I dispose myself for an
+evening of such sober and thoughtful quietude as I believe, on my soul,
+that very few of my fellow men have the good fortune to enjoy.
+
+My tenant, meantime, in the other room, I can hear now and then--though
+there is a thick stone chimney, and broad entry between--multiplying
+contrivances with his wife to put two babies to sleep.  This occupies
+them, I should say, usually an hour, though my only measure of time
+(for I never carry a watch into the country) is the blaze of my fire.
+By ten, or thereabouts, my stock of wood is nearly exhausted; I pile
+upon the hot coals what remains, and sit watching how it kindles, and
+blazes, and goes out---even like our joys--and then slip by the light
+of the embers into my bed, where I luxuriate in such sound and
+healthful slumber as only such rattling window-frames and country air
+can supply.
+
+But to return: the other evening--it happened to be on my last visit to
+my farmhouse--when I had exhausted all the ordinary rural topics of
+thought, had formed all sorts of conjectures as to the income of the
+year; had planned a new wall around one lot, and the clearing up of
+another, now covered with patriarchal wood; and wondered if the little
+rickety house would not be after all a snug enough box to live and to
+die in--I fell on a sudden into such an unprecedented line of thought,
+which took such deep hold of my sympathies--sometimes even starting
+tears--that I determined, the next day, to set as much of it as I could
+recall on paper.
+
+Something--it may have been the home-looking blaze (I am a bachelor of,
+say, six-and-twenty), or possibly a plaintive cry of the baby in my
+tenant's room, had suggested to me the thought of--marriage.
+
+I piled upon the heated fire-dogs the last armful of my wood; "and
+now," said I, bracing myself courageously between the arms of my chair,
+"I'll not flinch; I'll pursue the thought wherever it leads, though it
+leads me to the d--(I am apt to be hasty)--at least," continued I,
+softening, "until my fire is out."
+
+The wood was green, and at first showed no disposition to blaze.  It
+smoked furiously.  Smoke, thought I, always goes before blaze; and so
+does doubt go before decision: and my reverie, from that very
+starting-point, slipped into this shape:
+
+  I.  SMOKE--SIGNIFYING DOUBT
+
+
+A wife? thought I.  Yes, a wife.
+
+And why?
+
+And pray, my dear sir, why not--why?  Why not doubt? why not hesitate;
+why not tremble?
+
+Does a man buy a ticket in a lottery--a poor man whose whole earnings
+go in to secure the ticket--without trembling, hesitating, and doubting?
+
+Can a man stake his bachelor respectability, his independence, and
+comfort, upon the die of absorbing, unchanging, relentless marriage,
+without trembling at the venture?
+
+Shall a man who has been free to chase his fancies over the wide world,
+without let or hindrance, shut himself up to marriage-ship, within four
+walls called home, that are to claim him, his time, his trouble, and
+his tears, thenceforward forevermore, without doubts thick, and
+thick-coming as smoke?
+
+Shall he who has been hitherto a mere observer of other men's cares and
+business--moving off where they made him sick of heart, approaching
+whenever and wherever they made him gleeful--shall he now undertake
+administration of just such cares and business, without qualms?  Shall
+he, whose whole life has been but a nimble succession of escapes from
+trifling difficulties, now broach without doubtings--that matrimony,
+where if difficulty beset him there is no escape?  Shall this brain of
+mine, careless-working, never tired with idleness, feeding on long
+vagaries and high, gigantic castles, dreaming out beatitudes hour by
+hour--turn itself at length to such dull task-work as thinking out a
+livelihood for wife and children?
+
+Where thenceforward will be those sunny dreams, in which I have warmed
+my fancies, and my heart, and lighted my eye with crystal?  This very
+marriage, which a brilliant working imagination has invested time and
+again with brightness and delight, can serve no longer as a mine for
+teeming fancy.  All, alas! will be gone--reduced to the dull standard
+of the actual.  No more room for intrepid forays of imagination--no
+more gorgeous realm-making.  All will be over!
+
+Why not, I thought, go on dreaming?
+
+Can any wife be prettier than an after-dinner fancy, idle and yet
+vivid, can paint for you?  Can any children make less noise than the
+little rosy-cheeked ones who have no existence except in the omnium
+gatherum of your own brain?  Can any housewife be more unexceptionable
+than she who goes sweeping daintily the cobwebs that gather in your
+dreams?  Can any domestic larder be better stocked than the private
+larder of your head dozing on a cushioned chair-back at Delmonico's?
+Can any family purse be better filled than the exceeding plump one you
+dream of, after reading such pleasant books as Munchausen or Typee?
+
+But if, after all, it must be--duty, or what-not, making
+provocation--what then?  And I clapped my feet hard against the
+fire-dogs, and leaned back, and turned my face to the ceiling, as much
+as to say, And where on earth, then, shall a poor devil look for a wife?
+
+Somebody says--Lyttleton or Shaftesbury, I think--that "marriages would
+be happier if they were all arranged by the Lord Chancellor."
+Unfortunately, we have no Lord Chancellor to make this commutation of
+our misery.
+
+Shall a man then scour the country on a mule's back, like honest Gil
+Blas of Santillane? or shall he make application to some such
+intervening providence as Madame St. Marc, who, as I see by the Presse,
+manages these matters to one's hand, for some five per cent on the
+fortunes of the parties?
+
+I have trouted when the brook was so low and the sky so hot that I
+might as well have thrown my fly upon the turnpike; and I have hunted
+hare at noon, and woodcock in snowtime--never despairing, scarce
+doubting; but for a poor hunter of his kind, without traps or snares,
+or any aid of police or constabulary, to traverse the world, where are
+swarming, on a moderate computation, some three hundred and odd
+millions of unmarried women, for a single capture--irremediable,
+unchangeable--and yet a capture which by strange metonymy, not laid
+down in the books, is very apt to turn captor into captive and make
+game of hunter--all this, surely, surely may make a man shrug with
+doubt!
+
+Then, again, there are the plaguy wife's relations.  Who knows how many
+third, fourth, or fifth cousins will appear at careless complimentary
+intervals long after you had settled into the placid belief that all
+congratulatory visits were at an end?  How many twisted-headed brothers
+will be putting in their advice, as a friend to Peggy?
+
+How many maiden aunts will come to spend a month or two with their
+"dear Peggy," and want to know every tea-time "if she isn't a dear love
+of a wife?"  Then, dear father-in-law will beg (taking dear Peggy's
+hand in his) to give a little wholesome counsel; and will be very sure
+to advise just the contrary of what you had determined to undertake.
+And dear mamma-in-law must set her nose into Peggy's cupboard, and
+insist upon having the key to your own private locker in the wainscot.
+
+Then, perhaps, there is a little bevy of dirty-nosed nephews who come
+to spend the holidays, and eat up your East India sweetmeats; and who
+are forever tramping over your head or raising the old Harry below,
+while you are busy with your clients.  Last, and worse, is some fidgety
+old uncle, forever too cold or too hot, who vexes you with his
+patronizing airs, and impudently kisses his little Peggy!
+
+That could be borne, however; for perhaps he has promised his fortune
+to Peggy.  Peggy, then, will be rich (and the thought made me rub my
+shins, which were now getting comfortably warm upon the fire-dogs).
+Then she will be forever talking of _her_ fortune; and pleasantly
+reminding you; on occasion of a favorite purchase, how lucky that _she_
+had the means; and dropping hints about economy; and buying very
+extravagant Paisleys.
+
+She will annoy you by looking over the stock-list at breakfast-time,
+and mention quite carelessly to your clients that she is interested in
+_such_ or such a speculation.
+
+She will be provokingly silent when you hint to a tradesman that you
+have not the money by you for his small bill--in short, she will tear
+the life out of you, making you pay in righteous retribution of
+annoyance, grief, vexation, shame, and sickness of heart, for the
+superlative folly of "marrying rich."
+
+But if not rich, then poor.  Bah! the thought made me stir the coals;
+but there was still no blaze.  The paltry earnings you are able to
+wring out of clients by the sweat of your brow will now be all _our_
+income; you will be pestered for pin-money, and pestered with your poor
+wife's relations.  Ten to one, she will stickle about taste--"Sir
+Visto's"--and want to make this so pretty, and that so charming, if she
+_only_ had the means; and is sure Paul (a kiss) can't deny his little
+Peggy such a trifling sum, and all for the common benefit.
+
+Then she, for one, means that _her_ children sha'n't go a-begging for
+clothes--and another pull at the purse.  Trust a poor mother to dress
+her children in finery!
+
+Perhaps she is ugly--not noticeable at first, but growing on her, and
+(what is worse) growing faster on you.  You wonder why you didn't see
+that vulgar nose long ago; and that lip--it is very strange, you think,
+that you ever thought it pretty.  And then, to come to breakfast with
+her hair looking as it does, and you not so much as daring to say,
+"Peggy, _do_ brush your hair!"  Her foot, too--not very bad when
+decently _chausse_; but now since she's married she does wear such
+infernal slippers!  And yet for all this, to be prigging up for an
+hour, when any of my old chums come to dine with me!
+
+"Bless your kind hearts, my dear fellows," said I, thrusting the tongs
+into the coals and speaking out loud, as if my voice could reach from
+Virginia to Paris, "not married yet!"
+
+Perhaps Peggy is pretty enough, only shrewish.
+
+No matter for cold coffee; you should have been up before.
+
+What sad, thin, poorly cooked chops, to eat with your rolls!
+
+She thinks they are very good, and wonders how you can set such an
+example to your children.
+
+The butter is nauseating.
+
+She has no other, and hopes you'll not raise a storm about butter a
+little turned.  I think I see myself, ruminated I, sitting meekly at
+table, scarce daring to lift up my eyes, utterly fagged out with some
+quarrel of yesterday, choking down detestably sour muffins, that my
+wife thinks are "delicious"--slipping in dried mouthfuls of burnt ham
+off the side of my forktines--slipping off my chair sideways at the
+end, and slipping out with my hat between my knees, to business, and
+never feeling myself a competent, sound-minded man till the oak door is
+between me and Peggy.
+
+"Ha-ha! not yet!" said I, and in so earnest a tone that my dog started
+to his feet, cocked his eye to have a good look into my face, met my
+smile of triumph with an amiable wag of the tail, and curled up again
+in the corner.
+
+Again, Peggy is rich enough, well enough, mild enough, only she doesn't
+care a fig for you.  She has married you because father or grandfather
+thought the match eligible, and because she didn't wish to disoblige
+them.  Besides, she didn't positively hate you, and thought you were a
+respectable enough young person; she has told you so repeatedly at
+dinner.  She wonders you like to read poetry; she wishes you would buy
+her a good cook-book; and insists upon your making your will at the
+birth of the first baby.
+
+She thinks Captain So-and-So a splendid-looking fellow, and wishes you
+would trim up a little, were it only for appearance' sake.
+
+You need not hurry up from the office so early at night, she, bless her
+dear heart! does not feel lonely.  You read to her a love tale: she
+interrupts the pathetic parts with directions to her seamstress.  You
+read of marriages: she sighs, and asks if Captain So-and-So has left
+town.  She hates to be mewed up in a cottage, or between brick walls;
+she does so love the Springs!
+
+But, again, Peggy loves you--at least she swears it, with her hand on
+"The Sorrows of Werter."  She has pin-money which she spends for the
+"Literary World" and the "Friends in Council."  She is not bad-looking,
+save a bit too much of forehead; nor is she sluttish, unless a
+_negligé_ till three o'clock, and an ink-stain on the forefinger be
+sluttish; but then she is such a sad blue!
+
+You never fancied, when you saw her buried in a three-volume novel,
+that it was anything more than a girlish vagary; and when she quoted
+Latin, you thought innocently that she had a capital memory for her
+samplers.
+
+But to be bored eternally about divine Dante and funny Goldoni is too
+bad.  Your copy of Tasso, a treasure print of 1680, is all bethumbed
+and dog's-eared, and spotted with baby gruel.  Even your Seneca--an
+Elzevir--is all sweaty with handling.  She adores La Fontaine, reads
+Balzac with a kind of artist scowl, and will not let Greek alone.
+
+You hint at broken rest and an aching head at breakfast, and she will
+fling you a scrap of Anthology--in lien of the camphor-bottle--or chant
+the [Greek] _alai alai_ of tragic chorus.
+
+The nurse is getting dinner; you are holding the baby; Peggy is reading
+Bruyère.
+
+The fire smoked thick as pitch, and puffed out little clouds over the
+chimney-piece.  I gave the fore-stick a kick; at the thought of Peggy,
+baby, and Bruyère.
+
+Suddenly the flame flickered bluely athwart the smoke--caught at a twig
+below--rolled round the mossy oak-stick--twined among the crackling
+tree-limbs--mounted--lit up the whole body of smoke, and blazed out
+cheerily and bright.  Doubt vanished with smoke, and hope began with
+flame.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of International Short Stories, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INTERNATIONAL SHORT STORIES ***
+
+***** This file should be named 32845-8.txt or 32845-8.zip *****
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+<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
+<HTML>
+<HEAD>
+
+<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1">
+
+<TITLE>
+The Project Gutenberg E-text of International Short Stories (American)
+</TITLE>
+
+<STYLE TYPE="text/css">
+BODY { color: Black;
+       background: White;
+       margin-right: 10%;
+       margin-left: 10%;
+       font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;
+       text-align: justify }
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+P {text-indent: 4% }
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+
+P.footnote {text-indent: 0% ;
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+P.intro {font-size: 80% ;
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+
+<BODY>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of International Short Stories, by Various
+
+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: International Short Stories
+       American
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: William Patten
+
+Release Date: June 16, 2010 [EBook #32845]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INTERNATIONAL SHORT STORIES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Al Haines
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-front"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-front.jpg" ALT="Anna Katharine Green" BORDER="0" WIDTH="397" HEIGHT="545">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<H2 ALIGN="center">
+INTERNATIONAL SHORT STORIES
+</H2>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+EDITED BY
+<BR>
+WILLIAM PATTEN
+<BR><BR>
+A NEW COLLECTION OF<BR>
+FAMOUS EXAMPLES<BR>
+FROM THE LITERATURES<BR>
+OF ENGLAND, FRANCE<BR>
+AND AMERICA<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+AMERICAN
+</H3>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+P F COLLIER &amp;  SON
+<BR>
+NEW YORK
+</H4>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<H5 ALIGN="center">
+Copyright, 1910
+<BR>
+BY P. F. COLLIER &amp; SON
+<BR><BR>
+The use of the copyrighted stories in this collection has <BR>
+been authorized in each case by their authors <BR>
+or by their representatives.
+</H5>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+AMERICAN STORIES
+</H3>
+
+<TABLE ALIGN="center" WIDTH="100%">
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="60%">
+<A HREF="#chap01">THE PROPHETIC PICTURES</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top" WIDTH="40%">
+  By Nathaniel Hawthorne
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap02">THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+  By Washington Irving
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap03">THE GOLD-BUG</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+  By Edgar Allan Poe
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap04">CORPORAL FLINT'S MURDER</A><BR>
+  (From "The Oak Openings")
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+ By J. Fenimore Cooper
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap05">UNCLE JIM AND UNCLE BILLY</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+By Bret Harte
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap06">THE NOTARY OF PERIGUEUX</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+ By H. W. Longfellow
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap07">THE WIDOW'S CRUISE</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+By F. R. Stockton
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap08">THE COUNT AND THE WEDDING QUEST</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+ By O. Henry
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap09">MISS TOOKER'S WEDDING GIFT</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+  By John Kendrick Bangs
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap10">THE FABLE OF THE TWO MANDOLIN PLAYERS AND
+  THE WILLING PERFORMER</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+ By George Ade
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap11">THE FABLE OF THE PREACHER WHO FLEW HIS KITE,
+  BUT NOT BECAUSE HE WISHED TO DO SO</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+ By George Ade
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap12">THE SHADOWS ON THE WALL</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+  By Mary E. Wilkins Freeman
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap13">MAJOR PERDUE'S BARGAIN</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+ By Joel Chandler Harris
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap14">A KENTUCKY CINDERELLA</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+ By F. Hopkinson Smith
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap15">BY THE WATERS OF PARADISE</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+ By F. Marion Crawford
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap16">A MEMORABLE NIGHT</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+By Anna Katharine Green
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap17">THE MAN FROM RED DOG</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+ By Alfred Henry Lewis
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap18">JEAN MICHAUD'S LITTLE SHIP</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+  By Charles G. D. Roberts
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap19">THOSE OLD LUNES!</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+By W. Gilmore Simms
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap20">THE CHIROPODIST</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+  By Bayard Taylor
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap21">"MR. DOOLEY ON CORPORAL PUNISHMENT"</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+  By F. P. Dunne
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+<TR>
+<TD ALIGN="left" VALIGN="top">
+<A HREF="#chap22">OVER A WOOD FIRE</A>
+</TD>
+
+<TD ALIGN="right" VALIGN="top">
+ Donald G. Mitchell--"Ik Marvel"
+</TD>
+</TR>
+
+</TABLE>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap01"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE PROPHETIC PICTURES[<A NAME="chap01fn1text"></A><A HREF="#chap01fn1">1</A>]
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="footnote">
+<A NAME="chap01fn1"></A>
+[<A HREF="#chap01fn1text">1</A>] This story was suggested by an anecdote of Stuart, related in
+Dunlap's "History of the Arts of Design"&mdash;a most entertaining book to
+the general reader, and a deeply interesting one, we should think, to
+the artist.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"But this painter!" cried Walter Ludlow, with animation.  "He not only
+excels in his peculiar art, but possesses vast acquirements in all
+other learning and science.  He talks Hebrew with Dr. Mather, and gives
+lectures in anatomy to Dr. Boylston.  In a word, he will meet the best
+instructed man among us, on his own ground.  Moreover, he is a polished
+gentleman&mdash;a citizen of the world&mdash;yes, a true cosmopolite; for he will
+speak like a native of each clime and country on the globe, except our
+own forests, whither he is now going.  Nor is all this what I most
+admire in him."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Indeed!" said Elinor, who had listened with a woman's interest to the
+description of such a man.  "Yet this is admirable enough."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Surely it is," replied her lover, "but far less so than his natural
+gift of adapting himself to every variety of character, insomuch that
+all men&mdash;and all women too, Elinor&mdash;shall find a mirror of themselves
+in this wonderful painter.  But the greatest wonder is yet to be told."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Nay, if he have more wonderful attributes than these," said Elinor,
+laughing, "Boston is a perilous abode for the poor gentleman.  Are you
+telling me of a painter, or a wizard?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"In truth," answered he, "that question might be asked much more
+seriously than you suppose.  They say that he paints not merely a man's
+features, but his mind and heart.  He catches the secret sentiments and
+passions, and throws them upon the canvas, like sunshine&mdash;or perhaps,
+in the portraits of dark-souled men, like a gleam of infernal fire.  It
+is an awful gift," added Walter, lowering his voice from its tone of
+enthusiasm.  "I shall be almost afraid to sit to him."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Walter, are you in earnest?" exclaimed Elinor.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"For Heaven's sake, dearest Elinor, do not let him paint the look which
+you now wear," said her lover, smiling, though rather perplexed.
+"There: it is passing away now, but when you spoke you seemed
+frightened to death, and very sad besides.  What were you thinking of?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Nothing, nothing," answered Elinor, hastily.  "You paint my face with
+your own fantasies.  Well, come for me to-morrow, and we will visit
+this wonderful artist."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But when the young man had departed, it cannot be denied that a
+remarkable expression was again visible on the fair and youthful face
+of his mistress.  It was a sad and anxious look, little in accordance
+with what should have been the feelings of a maiden on the eve of
+wedlock.  Yet Walter Ludlow was the chosen of her heart.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A look!" said Elinor to herself.  "No wonder that it startled him, if
+it expressed what I sometimes feel.  I know, by my own experience, how
+frightful a look may be.  But it was all fancy.  I thought nothing of
+it at the time&mdash;I have seen nothing of it since&mdash;I did but dream it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And she busied herself about the embroidery of a ruff, in which she
+meant that her portrait should be taken.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The painter of whom they had been speaking was not one of those native
+artists who, at a later period than this, borrowed their colors from
+the Indians, and manufactured their pencils of the furs of wild beasts.
+Perhaps, if he could have revoked his life and prearranged his destiny,
+he might have chosen to belong to that school without a master, in the
+hope of being at least original, since there were no works of art to
+imitate, nor rules to follow.  But he had been born and educated in
+Europe.  People said that he had studied the grandeur or beauty of
+conception, and every touch of the master-hand, in all the most famous
+pictures, in cabinets and galleries, and on the walls of churches, till
+there was nothing more for his powerful mind to learn.  Art could add
+nothing to its lessons, but Nature might.  He had therefore visited a
+world whither none of his professional brethren had preceded him, to
+feast his eyes on visible images that were noble and picturesque, yet
+had never been transferred to canvas.  America was too poor to afford
+other temptations to an artist of eminence, though many of the colonial
+gentry, on the painter's arrival, had expressed a wish to transmit
+their lineaments to posterity by means of his skill.  Whenever such
+proposals were made, he fixed his piercing eyes on the applicant, and
+seemed to look him through and through.  If he beheld only a sleek and
+comfortable visage, though there were a gold-laced coat to adorn the
+picture, and golden guineas to pay for it, he civilly rejected the task
+and the reward.  But if the face were the index of anything uncommon,
+in thought, sentiment, or experience; or if he met a beggar in the
+street, with a white beard and a furrowed brow; or if sometimes a child
+happened to look up and smile; he would exhaust all the art on them
+that he denied to wealth.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Pictorial skill being so rare in the colonies, the painter became an
+object of general curiosity.  If few or none could appreciate the
+technical merit of his productions, yet there were points in regard to
+which the opinion of the crowd was as valuable as the refined judgment
+of the amateur.  He watched the effect that each picture produced on
+such untutored beholders, and derived profit from their remarks, while
+they would as soon have thought of instructing Nature herself as him
+who seemed to rival her.  Their admiration, it must be owned, was
+tinctured with the prejudices of the age and country.  Some deemed it
+an offence against the Mosaic law, and even a presumptuous mockery of
+the Creator, to bring into existence such lively images of His
+creatures.  Others, frightened at the art which could raise phantoms at
+will, and keep the form of the dead among the living, were inclined to
+consider the painter as a magician, or perhaps the famous Black Man, of
+old witch-times, plotting mischief in a new guise.  These foolish
+fancies were more than half believed among the mob.  Even in superior
+circles, his character was invested with a vague awe, partly rising
+like smoke-wreaths from the popular superstitions, but chiefly caused
+by the varied knowledge and talents which he made subservient to his
+profession.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Being on the eve of marriage, Walter Ludlow and Elinor were eager to
+obtain their portraits, as the first of what, they doubtless hoped,
+would be a long series of family pictures.  The day after the
+conversation above recorded, they visited the painter's rooms.  A
+servant ushered them into an apartment, where, though the artist
+himself was not visible, there were personages whom they could hardly
+forbear greeting with reverence.  They knew, indeed, that the whole
+assembly were but pictures, yet felt it impossible to separate the idea
+of life and intellect from such striking counterfeits.  Several of the
+portraits were known to them, either as distinguished characters of the
+day, or their private acquaintances.  There was Governor Burnet,
+looking as if he had just received an undutiful communication from the
+House of Representatives, and were inditing a most sharp response.  Mr.
+Cooke hung beside the ruler whom he opposed, sturdy, and somewhat
+puritanical, as befitted a popular leader.  The ancient lady of Sir
+William Phips eyed them from the wall, in ruff and farthingale, an
+imperious old dame, not unsuspected of witchcraft.  John Winslow, then
+a very young man, wore the expression of warlike enterprise which long
+afterward made him a distinguished general.  Their personal friends
+were recognized at a glance.  In most of the pictures, the whole mind
+and character were brought out on the countenance, and concentrated
+into a single look, so that, to speak paradoxically, the originals
+hardly resembled themselves so strikingly as the portraits did.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Among these modern worthies, there were two old bearded Saints, who had
+almost vanished into the darkening canvas.  There was also a pale but
+unfaded Madonna, who had perhaps been worshiped in Rome, and now
+regarded the lovers with such a mild and holy look that they longed to
+worship too.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How singular a thought," observed Walter Ludlow, "that this beautiful
+face has been beautiful for above two hundred years!  Oh, if all beauty
+would endure so well!  Do you not envy her, Elinor?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If earth were heaven, I might," she replied.  "But where all things
+fade, how miserable to be the one that could not fade!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"This dark old St. Peter has a fierce and ugly scowl, saint though he
+be," continued Walter.  "He troubles me.  But the virgin looks kindly
+at us."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes; but very sorrowfully, methinks," said Elinor.  The easel stood
+beneath these three old pictures, sustaining one that had been recently
+commenced.  After a little inspection, they began to recognize the
+features of their own minister; the Rev. Dr. Colman, growing into shape
+and life as it were, out of a cloud.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Kind old man!" exclaimed Elinor.  "He gazes at me as if he were about
+to utter a word of paternal advice."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And at me," said Walter, "as if he were about to shake his head and
+rebuke me for some suspected iniquity.  But so does the original.  I
+shall never feel quite comfortable under his eye, till we stand before
+him to be married."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They now heard a footstep on the floor, and turning, beheld the
+painter, who had been some moments in the room, and had listened to a
+few of their remarks.  He was a middle-aged man, with a countenance
+well worthy of his own pencil.  Indeed, by the picturesque though
+careless arrangement of his rich dress, and, perhaps, because his soul
+dwelt always among painted shapes, he looked somewhat like a portrait
+himself.  His visitors were sensible of a kindred between the artist
+and his works, and felt as if one of the pictures had stepped from the
+canvas to salute them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Walter Ludlow, who was slightly known to the painter, explained the
+object of their visit.  While he spoke, a sun-beam was falling athwart
+his figure and Elinor's, with so happy an effect that they also seemed
+living pictures of youth and beauty, gladdened by bright fortune.  The
+artist was evidently struck.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"My easel is occupied for several ensuing days, and my stay in Boston
+must be brief," said he, thoughtfully; then, after an observant glance,
+he added, "but your wishes shall be gratified, though I disappoint the
+Chief-Justice and Madam Oliver.  I must not lose this opportunity, for
+the sake of painting a few ells of broadcloth and brocade."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The painter expressed a desire to introduce both their portraits into
+one picture, and represent them engaged in some appropriate action.
+This plan would have delighted the lovers, but was necessarily
+rejected, because so large a space of canvas would have been unfit for
+the room which it was intended to decorate.  Two half-length portraits
+were therefore fixed upon.  After they had taken leave, Walter Ludlow
+asked Elinor, with a smile, whether she knew what an influence over
+their fates the painter was about to acquire.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The old women of Boston affirm," continued he, "that after he has once
+got possession of a person's face and figure, he may paint him in any
+act or situation whatever&mdash;and the picture will be prophetic.  Do you
+believe it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Not quite," said Elinor, smiling.  "Yet if he has such magic, there is
+something so gentle in his manner that I am sure he will use it well."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was the painter's choice to proceed with both the portraits at the
+same time, assigning as a reason, in the mystical language which he
+sometimes used, that the faces threw light upon each other.
+Accordingly, he gave now a touch to Walter, and now to Elinor, and the
+features of one and the other began to start forth so vividly that it
+appeared as if his triumphant art would actually disengage them from
+the canvas.  Amid the rich light and deep shade they beheld their
+phantom selves.  But, though the likeness promised to be perfect, they
+were not quite satisfied with the expression; it seemed more vague than
+in most of the painter's works.  He, however, was satisfied with the
+prospect of success, and being much interested in the lovers, employed
+his leisure moments, unknown to them, in making a crayon sketch of
+their two figures.  During their sittings, he engaged them in
+conversation, and kindled up their faces with characteristic traits,
+which, though continually varying, it was his purpose to combine and
+fix.  At length he announced that at their next visit both the
+portraits would be ready for delivery.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If my pencil will but be true to my conception, in the few last
+touches which I meditate," observed he, "these two pictures will be my
+very best performances.  Seldom, indeed, has an artist such subjects."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+While speaking, he still bent his penetrative eye upon them, nor
+withdrew it till they had reached the bottom of the stairs.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Nothing, in the whole circle of human vanities, takes stronger hold of
+the imagination than this affair of having a portrait painted.  Yet why
+should it be so?  The looking-glass, the polished globes of the
+andirons, the mirror-like water, and all other reflecting surfaces,
+continually present us with portraits, or rather ghosts, of ourselves,
+which we glance at, and straightway forget them.  But we forget them
+only because they vanish.  It is the idea of duration&mdash;of earthly
+immortality&mdash;that gives such a mysterious interest to our own
+portraits.  Walter and Elinor were not insensible to this feeling, and
+hastened to the painter's room, punctually at the appointed hour, to
+meet those pictured shapes which were to be their representatives with
+posterity.  The sunshine flashed after them into the apartment, but
+left it somewhat gloomy, as they closed the door.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Their eyes were immediately attracted to their portraits, which rested
+against the furthest wall of the room.  At the first glance, through
+the dim light and the distance, seeing themselves in precisely their
+natural attitudes, and with all the air that they recognized so well,
+they uttered a simultaneous exclamation of delight.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There we stand," cried Walter, enthusiastically, "fixed in sunshine
+forever!  No dark passions can gather on our faces!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No," said Elinor, more calmly; "no dreary change can sadden us."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This was said while they were approaching, and had yet gained only an
+imperfect view of the pictures.  The painter, after saluting them,
+busied himself at a table in completing a crayon sketch, leaving his
+visitors to form their own judgment as to his perfected labors.  At
+intervals, he sent a glance from beneath his deep eyebrows, watching
+their countenances in profile, with his pencil suspended over the
+sketch.  They had now stood some moments, each in front of the other's
+picture, contemplating it with entranced attention, but without
+uttering a word.  At length Walter stepped forward&mdash;then back&mdash;viewing
+Elinor's portrait in various lights, and finally spoke.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Is there not a change?" said he, in a doubtful and meditative tone.
+"Yes; the perception of it grows more vivid, the longer I look.  It is
+certainly the same picture that I saw yesterday; the dress&mdash;the
+features&mdash;all are the same; and yet something is altered."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Is, then, the picture less like than it was yesterday?" inquired the
+painter, now drawing near, with irrepressible interest.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The features are perfect, Elinor," answered Walter, "and, at the first
+glance, the expression seemed also hers.  But, I could fancy that the
+portrait has changed countenance while I have been looking at it.  The
+eyes are fixed on mine with a strangely sad and anxious expression.
+Nay, it is grief and terror!  Is this like Elinor?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Compare the living face with the pictured one," said the painter.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Walter glanced sidelong at his mistress and started.  Motionless and
+absorbed&mdash;fascinated as it were&mdash;in contemplation of Walter's portrait,
+Elinor's face had assumed precisely the expression of which he had just
+been complaining.  Had she practiced for whole hours before a mirror,
+she could not have caught the look so successfully.  Had the picture
+itself been a mirror, it could not have thrown back her present aspect,
+with stronger and more melancholy truth.  She appeared quite
+unconscious of the dialogue between the artist and her lover.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Elinor," exclaimed Walter, in amazement, "what change has come over
+you?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She did not hear him, nor desist from her fixed gaze, till he seized
+her hand, and thus attracted her notice; then, with a sudden tremor,
+she looked from the picture to the face of the original.  "Do you see
+no change in your portrait?" asked she.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"In mine?&mdash;None!" replied Walter, examining it.  "But let me see!  Yes;
+there is a slight change&mdash;an improvement, I think, in the picture,
+though none in the likeness.  It has a livelier expression than
+yesterday, as if some bright thought were flashing from the eyes, and
+about to be uttered from the lips.  Now that I have caught the look, it
+becomes very decided."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+While he was intent on these observations, Elinor turned to the
+painter.  She regarded him with grief and awe, and felt that he repaid
+her with sympathy and commiseration, though wherefore she could but
+vaguely guess.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That look!" whispered she, and shuddered.  "How came it there?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Madam," said the painter, sadly, taking her hand, and leading her
+apart, "in both these pictures I have painted what I saw.  The
+artist&mdash;the true artist&mdash;must look beneath the exterior.  It is his
+gift&mdash;his proudest but often a melancholy one&mdash;to see the inmost soul,
+and by a power indefinable even to himself to make it glow or darken
+upon the canvas, in glances that express the thought and sentiment of
+years.  Would that I might convince myself of error in the present
+instance!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They had now approached the table, on which were heads in chalk, hands
+almost as expressive as ordinary faces, ivied church towers, thatched
+cottages, old thunder-stricken trees, Oriental and antique costume, and
+all such picturesque vagaries of an artist's idle moments.  Turning
+them over, with seeming carelessness, a crayon sketch of two figures
+was disclosed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If I have failed," continued he, "if your heart does not see itself
+reflected in your own portrait, if you have no secret cause to trust my
+delineation of the other, it is not yet too late to alter them.  I
+might change the action of these figures too.  But would it influence
+the event?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He directed her notice to the sketch.  A thrill ran through Elinor's
+frame; a shriek was upon her lips; but she stifled it, with the
+self-command that becomes habitual to all who hide thoughts of fear and
+anguish within their bosoms.  Turning from the table, she perceived
+that Walter had advanced near enough to have seen the sketch, though
+she could not determine whether it had caught his eye.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We will not have the pictures altered," said she hastily.  "If mine is
+sad, I shall but look the gayer for the contrast."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Be it so," answered the painter, bowing.  "May your griefs be such
+fanciful ones that only your picture may mourn for them!  For your
+joys&mdash;may they be true and deep, and paint themselves upon this lovely
+face till it quite belie my art!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After the marriage of Walter and Elinor, the pictures formed the two
+most splendid ornaments of their abode.  They hung side by side,
+separated by a narrow panel, appearing to eye each other constantly,
+yet always returning the gaze of the spectator.  Travelled gentlemen,
+who professed a knowledge of such subjects, reckoned these among the
+most admirable specimens of modern portraiture; while common observers
+compared them with the originals, feature by feature, and were
+rapturous in praise of the likeness.  But it was on a third
+class&mdash;neither travelled connoisseurs nor common observers, but people
+of natural sensibility&mdash;that the pictures wrought their strongest
+effect.  Such persons might gaze carelessly at first, but, becoming
+interested, would return day after day, and study these painted faces
+like the pages of a mystic volume.  Walter Ludlow's portrait attracted
+their earliest notice.  In the absence of himself and his bride, they
+sometimes disputed as to the expression which the painter had intended
+to throw upon the features; all agreeing that there was a look of
+earnest import, though no two explained it alike.  There was less
+diversity of opinion in regard to Elinor's picture.  They differed,
+indeed, in their attempts to estimate the nature and depth of the gloom
+that dwelt upon her face, but agreed that it was gloom, and alien from
+the natural temperament of their youthful friend.  A certain fanciful
+person announced, as the result of much scrutiny, that both these
+pictures were parts of one design, and that the melancholy strength of
+feeling, in Elinor's countenance, bore reference to the more vivid
+emotion, or, as he termed it, the wild passion, in that of Walter.
+Though unskilled in the art, he even began a sketch, in which the
+action of the two figures was to correspond with their mutual
+expression.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was whispered among friends, that, day by day, Elinor's face was
+assuming a deeper shade of pensiveness, which threatened soon to render
+her too true a counterpart of her melancholy picture.  Walter, on the
+other hand, instead of acquiring the vivid look which the painter had
+given him on the canvas, became reserved and downcast, with no outward
+flashes of emotion, however it might be smouldering within.  In course
+of time, Elinor hung a gorgeous curtain of purple silk, wrought with
+flowers, and fringed with heavy golden tassels, before the pictures,
+under pretence that the dust would tarnish their hues, or the light dim
+them.  It was enough.  Her visitors felt that the massive folds of the
+silk must never be withdrawn, nor the portraits mentioned in her
+presence.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Time wore on; and the painter came again.  He had been far enough to
+the north to see the silver cascade of the Crystal Hills, and to look
+over the vast round of cloud and forest, from the summit of New
+England's loftiest mountain.  But he did not profane that scene by the
+mockery of his art.  He had also lain in a canoe on the bosom of Lake
+George, making his soul the mirror of its loveliness and grandeur, till
+not a picture in the Vatican was more vivid than his recollection.  He
+had gone with the Indian hunters to Niagara, and there, again, had
+flung his hopeless pencil down the precipice, feeling that he could as
+soon paint the roar as aught else that goes to make up the wondrous
+cataract.  In truth, it was seldom his impulse to copy natural scenery,
+except as a framework for the delineations of the human form and face,
+instinct with thought, passion, or suffering.  With store of such, his
+adventurous ramble had enriched him; the stern dignity of Indian
+chiefs; the dusky loveliness of Indian girls; the domestic life of
+wigwams; the stealthy march; the battle beneath gloomy pine trees; the
+frontier fortress with its garrison; the anomaly of the old French
+partisan, bred in courts, but grown gray in shaggy deserts; such were
+the scenes and portraits that he had sketched.  The glow of perilous
+moments; flashes of wild feeling; struggles of fierce power&mdash;love,
+hate, grief, frenzy&mdash;in a word, all the worn-out heart of the old earth
+had been revealed to him under a new form.  His portfolio was filled
+with graphic illustrations of the volume of his memory, which genius
+would transmute into its own substance, and imbue with immortality.  He
+felt that the deep wisdom in his art, which he had sought so far, was
+found.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But, amid stern or lovely nature, in the perils of the forest, or its
+overwhelming peacefulness, still there had been two phantoms, the
+companions of his way.  Like all other men around whom an engrossing
+purpose wreathes itself, he was insulated from the mass of human kind.
+He had no aim&mdash;no pleasure&mdash;no sympathies&mdash;but what were ultimately
+connected with his art.  Though gentle in manner, and upright in intent
+and action, he did not possess kindly feelings; his heart was cold; no
+living creature could be brought near enough to keep him warm.  For
+these two beings, however, he had felt, in its greatest intensity, the
+sort of interest which always allied him to the subjects of his pencil.
+He had pried into their souls with his keenest insight, and pictured
+the result upon their features with his utmost skill, so as barely to
+fall short of that standard which no genius ever reached, his own
+severe conception.  He had caught from the duskiness of the future&mdash;at
+least, so he fancied&mdash;a fearful secret, and had obscurely revealed it
+on the portraits.  So much of himself&mdash;of his imagination and all other
+powers&mdash;had been lavished on the study of Walter and Elinor, that he
+almost regarded them as creations of his own, like the thousands with
+which he had peopled the realms of Picture.  Therefore did they flit
+through the twilight of the woods, hover on the mist of waterfalls,
+look forth from the mirror of the lake, nor melt away in the noontide
+sun.  They haunted his pictorial fancy, not as mockeries of life, nor
+pale goblins of the dead, but in the guise of portraits, each with the
+unalterable expression which his magic had evoked from the caverns of
+the soul.  He could not recross the Atlantic, till he had again beheld
+the originals of those airy pictures.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, glorious Art!" thus mused the enthusiastic painter, as he trod the
+street.  "Thou art the image of the Creator's own.  The innumerable
+forms that wander in nothingness start into being at thy beck.  The
+dead live again.  Thou recallest them to their old scenes, and givest
+their gray shadows the lustre of a better life, at once earthly and
+immortal.  Thou snatchest back the fleeting moments of History.  With
+thee, there is no Past; for, at thy touch, all that is great becomes
+forever present; and illustrious men live through long ages, in the
+visible performance of the very deeds which made them what they are.
+Oh, potent Art! as thou bringest the faintly revealed Past to stand in
+that narrow strip of sunlight which we call Now, canst thou summon the
+shrouded Future to meet her there?  Have I not achieved it!  Am I not
+thy Prophet?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thus with a proud yet melancholy fervor did he almost cry aloud, as he
+passed through the toilsome street, among people that knew not of his
+reveries, nor could understand nor care for them.  It is not good for
+man to cherish a solitary ambition.  Unless there be those around him
+by whose example he may regulate himself, his thoughts, desires, and
+hopes will become extravagant, and he the semblance, perhaps the
+reality, of a madman.  Reading other bosoms, with an acuteness almost
+preternatural, the painter failed to see the disorder of his own.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And this should be the house," said he, looking up and down the front,
+before he knocked.  "Heaven help my brains!  That picture!  Methinks it
+will never vanish.  Whether I look at the windows or the door, there it
+is framed within them, painted strongly, and glowing in the richest
+tints&mdash;the faces of the portraits&mdash;the figures and action of the
+sketch!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He knocked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The portraits!  Are they within?" inquired he, of the domestic; then
+recollecting himself&mdash;"your master and mistress!  Are they at home?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"They are, sir," said the servant, adding, as he noticed that
+picturesque aspect of which the painter could never divest himself,
+"and the Portraits too!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The guest was admitted into a parlor, communicating by a central door
+with an interior room of the same size.  As the first apartment was
+empty, he passed to the entrance of the second, within which his eyes
+were greeted by those living personages, as well as their pictured
+representatives, who had long been the object of so singular an
+interest.  He involuntarily paused on the threshold.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They had not perceived his approach.  Walter and Elinor were standing
+before the portraits, whence the former had just flung back the rich
+and voluminous folds of the silken curtain, holding its golden tassel
+with one hand, while the other grasped that of his bride.  The
+pictures, concealed for months, gleamed forth again in undiminished
+splendor, appearing to throw a sombre light across the room rather than
+to be disclosed by a borrowed radiance.  That of Elinor had been almost
+prophetic.  A pensiveness, and next a gentle sorrow, had successively
+dwelt upon her countenance, deepening, with the lapse of time, into a
+quiet anguish.  A mixture of affright would now have made it the very
+expression of the portrait.  Walter's face was moody and dull, or
+animated only by fitful flashes, which left a heavier darkness for
+their momentary illumination.  He looked from Elinor to her portrait,
+and thence to his own, in the contemplation of which he finally stood
+absorbed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The painter seemed to hear the step of Destiny approaching behind him,
+on its progress toward its victims.  A strange thought darted into his
+mind.  Was not his own the form in which that Destiny had embodied
+itself, and he a chief agent of the coming evil which he had
+foreshadowed?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Still, Walter remained silent before the picture, communing with it, as
+with his own heart, and abandoning himself to the spell of evil
+influence that the painter had cast upon the features.  Gradually his
+eyes kindled; while, as Elinor watched the increasing wildness of his
+face, her own assumed a look of terror; and when at last he turned upon
+her, the resemblance of both to their portraits was complete.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Our fate is upon us!" howled Walter.  "Die!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Drawing a knife, he sustained her, as she was sinking to the ground,
+and aimed it at her bosom.  In the action and in the look and attitude
+of each, the painter beheld the figures of his sketch.  The picture,
+with all its tremendous coloring was finished.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hold, madman!" cried he, sternly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had advanced from the door, and interposed himself between the
+wretched beings, with the same sense of power to regulate their destiny
+as to alter a scene upon the canvas.  He stood like a magician,
+controlling the phantoms which he had evoked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What!" muttered Walter Ludlow, as he relapsed from fierce excitement
+into silent gloom.  "Does Fate impede its own decree?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Wretched lady!" said the painter.  "Did I not warn you?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You did," replied Elinor, calmly, as her terror gave place to the
+quiet grief which it had disturbed.  "But&mdash;I loved him!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Is there not a deep moral in the tale?  Could the result of one, or all
+our deeds, be shadowed forth and set before us&mdash;some would call it Fate
+and hurry onward, others be swept along by their passionate
+desires&mdash;and none be turned aside by the PROPHETIC PICTURES.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap02"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By WASHINGTON IRVING
+</H4>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+(FOUND AMONG THE PAPERS OF THE LATE DIEDRICH KNICKERBOCKER)
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+"A pleasing land of drowsy head it was,<BR>
+Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye;<BR>
+And of gay castles in the clouds that pass,<BR>
+Forever flushing round a summer sky."<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 6.5em">&mdash;<I>Castle of Indolence</I></SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+In the bosom of one of those spacious coves which indent the eastern
+shore of the Hudson, at that broad expansion of the river denominated
+by the ancient Dutch navigators the Tappaan Zee, and where they always
+prudently shortened sail and implored the protection of St. Nicholas
+when they crossed, there lies a small market town or rural port, which
+by some is called Greensburgh, but which is more generally and properly
+known by the name of Tarry Town.  This name was given it, we are told,
+in former days, by the good housewives of the adjacent country, from
+the inveterate propensity of their husbands to linger about the village
+tavern on market days.  Be that as it may, I do not vouch for the fact,
+but merely advert to it, for the sake of being precise and authentic.
+Not far from this village, perhaps about three miles, there is a little
+valley or rather lap of land among high hills, which is one of the
+quietest places in the whole world.  A small brook glides through it,
+with just murmur enough to lull one to repose, and the occasional
+whistle of a quail, or tapping of a woodpecker, is almost the only
+sound that ever breaks in upon the uniform tranquillity.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I recollect that, when a stripling, my first exploit in
+squirrel-shooting was in a grove of tall walnut-trees that shades one
+side of the valley.  I had wandered into it at noon-time, when all
+nature is peculiarly quiet, and was startled by roar of my own gun, as
+it broke the sabbath stillness around and was prolonged and
+reverberated by the angry echoes.  If ever I should wish for a retreat
+whither I might steal from the world and its distractions, and dream
+quietly away the remnant of a troubled life, I know of none more
+promising than this little valley.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+From the listless repose of the place and the peculiar character of its
+inhabitants, who are descendants from the original Dutch settlers, this
+sequestered glen has long been known by the name of Sleepy Hollow, and
+its rustic lads are called the Sleepy Hollow Boys throughout all the
+neighboring country.  A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the
+land and to pervade the very atmosphere.  Some say that the place was
+bewitched by a high German doctor, during the early days of the
+settlement; others, that an old Indian chief, the prophet or wizard of
+his tribe, held his powwows there before the country was discovered by
+Master Hendrick Hudson.  Certain it is, the place still continues under
+the sway of some witching power that holds a spell over the minds of
+the good people, causing them to walk in a continual reverie.  They are
+given to all kinds of marvelous beliefs; are subject to trances and
+visions, and frequently see strange sights, and hear music and voices
+in the air.  The whole neighborhood abounds with local tales, haunted
+spots, and twilight superstitions; stars shoot and meteors glare
+oftener across the valley than in any other part of the country, and
+the nightmare, with her whole nine fold, seems to make it the favorite
+scene of her gambols.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region and
+seems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers of the air, is the
+apparition of a figure on horseback without a head.  It is said by some
+to be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away
+by a cannon-ball in some nameless battle during the revolutionary war,
+and who is ever and anon seen by the country folk, hurrying along in
+the gloom of night, as if on the wings of the wind.  His haunts are not
+confined to the valley, but extend at times to the adjacent roads, and
+especially to the vicinity of a church that is at no great distance.
+Indeed, certain of the most authentic historians of those parts, who
+have been careful in collecting and collating the floating facts
+concerning this specter, allege that, the body of the trooper having
+been buried in the churchyard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of
+battle in nightly quest of his head, and that the rushing speed with
+which he sometimes passes along the hollow like a midnight blast, is
+owing to his being belated, and in a hurry to get back to the
+churchyard before daybreak.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Such is the general purport of this legendary superstition, which has
+furnished materials for many a wild story in that region of shadows,
+and the specter is known at all the country firesides by the name of
+The Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It is remarkable that the visionary propensity I have mentioned is not
+confined to the native inhabitants of the valley, but is unconsciously
+imbibed by every one who resides there for a time.  However wide awake
+they may have been before they entered that sleepy region, they are
+sure, in a little time, to inhale the witching influence of the air,
+and begin to grow imaginative&mdash;to dream dreams and see apparitions.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I mention this peaceful spot with all possible laud; for it is in such
+little retired Dutch valleys, found here and there embosomed in the
+great State of New York, that population, manners and customs remain
+fixed, while the great torrent of migration and improvement, which is
+making such incessant changes in other parts of this restless country,
+sweeps by them unobserved.  They are like those little nooks of still
+water which border a rapid stream, where we may see the straw and
+bubble riding quietly at anchor, or slowly revolving in their mimic
+harbor, undisturbed by the rush of the passing current.  Though many
+years have elapsed since I trod the drowsy shades of Sleepy Hollow, yet
+I question whether I should not still find the same trees and the same
+families vegetating in its sheltered bosom.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In this by-place of nature there abode, in a remote period of American
+history, that is to say, some thirty years since, a worthy wight of the
+name of Ichabod Crane, who sojourned, or, as he expressed it,
+"tarried," in Sleepy Hollow, for the purpose of instructing the
+children of the vicinity.  He was a native of Connecticut, a State
+which supplies the Union with pioneers for the mind as well as for the
+forest, and sends forth yearly its legions of frontier woodmen and
+country schoolmasters.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The cognomen of Crane was not inapplicable to his person.  He was tall,
+but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, hands
+that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, feet that might have served for
+shovels, and his whole frame most loosely hung together.  His head was
+small and flat at top, with huge ears, large green glassy eyes, and a
+long snipe nose, so that it looked like a weathercock perched upon his
+spindle neck to tell which way the wind blew.  To see him striding
+along the profile of a hill on a windy day, with his clothes bagging
+and fluttering about him, one might have mistaken him for the genius of
+famine descending upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from a
+cornfield.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His schoolhouse was a low building of one large room, rudely
+constructed of logs, the windows partly glazed and partly patched with
+leaves of copy-books.  It was most ingeniously secured at vacant hours
+by a withe twisted in the handle of the door, and stakes set against
+the window-shutters; so that, though a thief might get in with perfect
+case, he would find some embarrassment in getting out&mdash;an idea most
+probably borrowed by the architect, Yost Van Houten, from the mystery
+of an ellpot.  The schoolhouse stood in a rather lonely but pleasant
+situation, just at the foot of a woody hill, with a brook running close
+by and a formidable birch-tree growing at one end of it.  From hence
+the low murmur of his pupils' voices, conning over their lessons, might
+be heard of a drowsy summer's day, like the hum of a beehive;
+interrupted now and then by the authoritative voice of the master in
+the tone of menace or command; or, peradventure, by the appalling sound
+of the birch, as he urged some tardy loiterer along the flowery path of
+knowledge.  Truth to say, he was a conscientious man, that ever bore in
+mind the golden maxim, "spare the rod and spoil the child."&mdash;Ichabod
+Crane's scholars certainly were not spoiled.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I would not have it imagined, however, that he was one of those cruel
+potentates of the school who joy in the smart of their subjects; on the
+contrary, he administered justice with discrimination rather than
+severity, taking the burden off the backs of the weak and laying it on
+those of the strong.  Your mere puny stripling, that winced at the
+least flourish of the rod, was passed by with indulgence; but the
+claims of justice were satisfied by inflicting a double portion on some
+little, tough, wrong headed, broad-skirted Dutch urchin, who sulked and
+swelled and grew dogged and sullen beneath the birch.  All this he
+called "doing his duty by their parents"; and he never inflicted a
+chastisement without following it by the assurance, so consolatory to
+the smarting urchin, that "he would remember it and thank him for it
+the longest day he had to live."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When school hours were over, he was even the companion and playmate of
+the larger boys; and on holyday afternoons would convoy some of the
+smaller ones home, who happened to have pretty sisters, or good
+housewives for mothers, noted for the comforts of the cupboard.
+Indeed, it behooved him to keep on good terms with his pupils.  The
+revenue arising from his school was small, and would have been scarcely
+sufficient to furnish him with daily bread, for he was a huge feeder,
+and, though lank, had the dilating powers of an anaconda; but to help
+out his maintenance, he was, according to country custom in those
+parts, boarded and lodged at the houses of the farmers whose children
+he instructed.  With these he lived successively a week at a time, thus
+going the rounds of the neighborhood with all his worldly effects tied
+up in a cotton handkerchief.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That all this might not be too onerous on the purses of his rustic
+patrons, who are apt to consider the costs of schooling a grievous
+burden and schoolmasters as mere drones, he had various ways of
+rendering himself both useful and agreeable.  He assisted the farmers
+occasionally in the lighter labors of their farms; helped to make hay;
+mended the fences; took the horses to water; drove the cows from
+pasture, and cut wood for the winter fire.  He laid aside, too, all the
+dominant dignity and absolute sway with which he lorded it in his
+little empire, the school, and became wonderfully gentle and
+ingratiating.  He found favor in the eyes of the mothers, by petting
+the children, particularly the youngest; and like the lion bold, which
+whilom so magnanimously the lamb did hold, he would sit with a child on
+one knee and rock a cradle with his foot for whole hours together.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In addition to his other vocations, he was the singing-master of the
+neighborhood, and picked up many bright shillings by instructing the
+young folks in psalmody.  It was a matter of no little vanity to him on
+Sundays to take his station in front of the church gallery, with a band
+of chosen singers; where, in his own mind, he completely carried away
+the palm from the parson.  Certain it is, his voice resounded far above
+all the rest of the congregation, and there are peculiar quavers still
+to be heard in that church, and which may even be heard half a mile
+off, quite to the opposite side of the mill-pond, on a still Sunday
+morning, which are said to be legitimately descended from the nose of
+Ichabod Crane.  Thus by divers little makeshifts, in that ingenious way
+which is commonly denominated "by hook and by crook," the worthy
+pedagogue got on tolerably enough, and was thought, by all who
+understood nothing of the labor of head-work, to have a wonderfully
+easy life of it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The schoolmaster is generally a man of some importance in the female
+circle of a rural neighborhood; being considered a kind of idle
+gentleman-like personage, of vastly superior taste and accomplishments
+to the rough country swains, and, indeed, inferior in learning only to
+the parson.  His appearance, therefore, is apt to occasion some little
+stir at the tea-table of a farmhouse and the addition of a
+supernumerary dish of cakes or sweetmeats, or, peradventure, the parade
+of a silver teapot.  Our man of letters, therefore, was peculiarly
+happy in the smiles of all the country damsels.  How he would figure
+among them in the churchyard, between, services on Sundays! gathering
+grapes for them from the wild vines that overrun the surrounding trees;
+reciting for their amusement all the epitaphs on the tombstones, or
+sauntering, with a whole bevy of them, along the banks of the adjacent
+mill-pond; while the more bashful country bumpkins hung sheepishly
+back, envying his superior elegance and address.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+From his half itinerant life, also, he was a kind of traveling gazette,
+carrying the whole budget of local gossip from house to house, so that
+his appearance was always greeted with satisfaction.  He was, moreover,
+esteemed by the women as a man of great erudition, for he had read
+several books quite through, and was a perfect master of Cotton
+Mather's "History of New England Witchcraft," in which, by the way, he
+most firmly and potently believed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was, in fact, an odd mixture of small shrewdness and simple
+credulity.  His appetite for the marvelous, and his powers of digesting
+it, were equally extraordinary; and both had been increased by his
+residence in this spell-bound region.  No tale was too gross or
+monstrous for his capacious swallow.  It was often his delight, after
+his school was dismissed in the afternoon, to stretch himself on the
+rich bed of clover, bordering the little brook that whimpered by his
+schoolhouse, and there con over old Mather's direful tales, until the
+gathering dusk of evening made the printed page a mere mist before his
+eyes.  Then, as he wended his way, by swamp and stream and awful
+woodland, to the farmhouse where he happened to be quartered, every
+sound of nature, at that witching hour, fluttered his excited
+imagination: the moan of the whip-poor-will[<A NAME="chap02fn1text"></A><A HREF="#chap02fn1">1</A>] from the hill-side; the
+boding cry of the tree-toad, that harbinger of storm; the dreary
+hooting of the screech-owl, or the sudden rustling in the thicket of
+birds frightened from their roost.  The fire-flies, too, which sparkled
+most vividly in the darkest places, now and then startled him, as one
+of uncommon brightness would stream across his path; and if, by chance,
+a huge blockhead of a beetle came winging his blundering flight against
+him, the poor varlet was ready to give up the ghost, with the idea that
+he was struck with a witch's token.  His only resource on such
+occasions, either to drown thought or drive away evil spirits, was to
+sing psalm tunes; and the good people of Sleepy Hollow, as they sat by
+their doors of an evening, were often filled with awe at hearing his
+nasal melody, "in linked sweetness long drawn out," floating from the
+distant hill, or along the dusky road.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Another of his sources of fearful pleasure was to pass long winter
+evenings with the old Dutch wives, as they sat spinning by the fire,
+with a row of apples roasting and sputtering along the hearth, and
+listen to their marvelous tales of ghosts and goblins, and haunted
+fields and haunted brooks, and haunted bridges and haunted houses, and
+particularly of the headless horseman, or galloping Hessian of the
+Hollow, as they sometimes called him.  He would delight them equally by
+his anecdotes of witchcraft, and of the direful omens and portentous
+sights and sounds in the air, which prevailed in the earlier times of
+Connecticut; and would frighten them wofully with speculations upon
+comets and shooting stars, and with the alarming fact that the world
+did absolutely turn round, and that they were half the time topsy-turvy!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But if there was a pleasure in all this, while snugly cuddling in the
+chimney corner of a chamber that was all of a ruddy glow from the
+crackling wood fire, and where, of course, no specter dared to show its
+face, it was dearly purchased by the terrors of his subsequent walk
+homeward.  What fearful shapes and shadows beset his path, amid the dim
+and ghastly glare of a snowy night!&mdash;With what wistful look did he eye
+every trembling ray of light streaming across the waste fields from
+some distant window!&mdash;How often was he appalled by some shrub covered
+with snow, which, like a sheeted specter, beset his very path!&mdash;How
+often did he shrink with curdling awe at the sound of his own steps on
+the frosty crust beneath his feet, and dread to look over his shoulder,
+lest he should behold some uncouth being tramping close behind
+him!&mdash;and how often was he thrown into complete dismay by some rushing
+blast, howling among the trees, in the idea that it was the galloping
+Hessian on one of his nightly scourings!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+All these, however, were mere terrors of the night, phantoms of the
+mind, that walk in darkness: and though he had seen many specters in
+his time, and had been more than once beset by Satan in divers shapes
+in his lonely perambulations, yet daylight put an end to all these
+evils; and he would have passed a pleasant life of it, in despite of
+the Devil and all his works, if his path had not been crossed by a
+being that causes more perplexity to mortal man than ghosts, goblins,
+and the whole race of witches put together; and that was&mdash;a woman.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Among the musical disciples who assembled, one evening in each week, to
+receive his instructions in psalmody, was Katrina Van Tassel, the
+daughter and only child of a substantial Dutch farmer.  She was a
+blooming lass of fresh eighteen; plump as a partridge, ripe and melting
+and rosy-cheeked as one of her father's peaches, and universally famed,
+not merely for her beauty, but her vast expectations.  She was withal a
+little of a coquette, as might be perceived even in her dress, which
+was a mixture of ancient and modern fashions, as most suited to set off
+her charms.  She wore the ornaments of pure yellow gold which her
+great-great-grandmother had brought over from Saardam; the tempting
+stomacher of the olden time, and withal a provokingly short petticoat,
+to display the prettiest foot and ankle in the country round.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Ichabod Crane had a soft and foolish heart toward the sex; and it is
+not to be wondered at that so tempting a morsel soon found favor in his
+eyes, more especially after he had visited her in her paternal mansion.
+Old Baltus Van Tassel was a perfect picture of a thriving, contented,
+liberal-hearted farmer.  He seldom, it is true, sent either his eyes or
+his thoughts beyond the boundaries of his own farm; but within these,
+everything was snug, happy, and well-conditioned.  He was satisfied
+with his wealth, but not proud of it; and piqued himself upon the
+hearty abundance, rather than the style in which he lived.  His
+stronghold was situated on the banks of the Hudson, in one of those
+green, sheltered, fertile nooks in which the Dutch farmers are so fond
+of nestling.  A great elm-tree spread its broad branches over it, at
+the foot of which bubbled up a spring of the softest and sweetest
+water, in a little well formed of a barrel, and then stole sparkling
+away through the grass, to a neighboring brook that babbled along among
+alders and dwarf willows.  Hard by the farmhouse was a vast barn that
+might have served for a church, every window and crevice of which
+seemed bursting forth with the treasures of the farm; the flail was
+busily resounding within it from morning to night; swallows and martins
+skimmed twittering about the eaves; and rows of pigeons, some with one
+eye turned up, as if watching the weather, some with their heads under
+their wings, or buried in their bosoms, and others, swelling, and
+cooing, and bowing about their dames, were enjoying the sunshine on the
+roof.  Sleek, unwieldy porkers were grunting in the repose and
+abundance of their pens, from whence sallied forth, now and then,
+troops of sucking pigs, as if to snuff the air.  A stately squadron of
+snowy geese were riding in an adjoining pond, convoying whole fleets of
+ducks; regiments of turkeys were gobbling through the farmyard, and
+guinea-fowls fretting about it like ill-tempered housewives, with their
+peevish, discontented cry.  Before the barn door strutted the gallant
+cock, that pattern of a husband, a warrior and a fine gentleman,
+clapping his burnished wings and crowing in the pride and gladness of
+his heart&mdash;sometimes tearing up the earth with his feet, and then
+generously calling his ever-hungry family of wives and children to
+enjoy the rich morsel which he had discovered.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The pedagogue's mouth watered as he looked upon this sumptuous promise
+of luxurious winter fare.  In his devouring mind's eye, he pictured to
+himself every roasting pig running about, with a pudding in its belly
+and an apple in its mouth; the pigeons were snugly put to bed in a
+comfortable pie and tucked in with a coverlet of crust; the geese were
+swimming in their own gravy, and the ducks pairing cosily in dishes,
+like snug married couples, with a decent competency of onion sauce.  In
+the porkers he saw carved out the future sleek side of bacon and juicy
+relishing ham; not a turkey, but he beheld daintily trussed up, with
+its gizzard under its wing, and, peradventure, a necklace of savory
+sausages; and even bright chanticleer himself lay sprawling on his
+back, in a side dish, with uplifted claws, as if craving that quarter
+which his chivalrous spirit disdained to ask while living.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As the enraptured Ichabod fancied all this, and as he rolled his great
+green eyes over the fat meadow lands, the rich fields of wheat, of rye,
+of buckwheat and Indian corn, and the orchards burdened with ruddy
+fruit, which surrounded the warm tenement of Van Tassel, his heart
+yearned after the damsel who was to inherit these domains, and his
+imagination expanded with the idea how they might be readily turned
+into cash, and the money invested in immense tracts of wild land and
+shingle palaces in the wilderness.  Nay, his busy fancy already
+realized his hopes, and presented to him the blooming Katrina, with a
+whole family of children, mounted on the top of a wagon loaded with
+household trumpery, with pots and kettles dangling beneath; and he
+beheld himself bestriding a pacing mare, with a colt at her heels,
+setting out for Kentucky, Tennessee&mdash;or the Lord knows where!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When he entered the house, the conquest of his heart was complete.  It
+was one of those spacious farmhouses, with high-ridged, but
+lowly-sloping roofs, built in the style handed down from the first
+Dutch settlers.  The low projecting eaves forming a piazza along the
+front capable of being closed up in bad weather.  Under this were hung
+flails, harness, various utensils of husbandry, and nets for fishing in
+the neighboring river.  Benches were built along the sides for summer
+use; and a great spinning-wheel at one end and a churn at the other
+showed the various uses to which this important porch might be devoted.
+From this piazza the wonderful Ichabod entered the hall, which formed
+the center of the mansion, and the place of usual residence.  Here,
+rows of resplendent pewter, ranged on a long dresser, dazzled his eyes.
+In one corner stood a huge bag of wool, ready to be spun; in another, a
+quantity of linsey-woolsey just from the loom; ears of Indian corn and
+strings of dried apples and peaches hung in gay festoons along the
+walls, mingled with the gaud of red peppers; and a door left ajar gave
+him a peep into the best parlor, where the claw-footed chairs, and dark
+mahogany tables, shone like mirrors; andirons, with their accompanying
+shovel and tongs, glistened from their covert of asparagus tops;
+mock-oranges and conch shells decorated the mantel-piece; strings of
+various colored birds' eggs were suspended above it; a great ostrich
+egg was hung from the center of the room, and a corner cupboard,
+knowingly left open, displayed immense treasures of old silver and
+well-mended china.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+From the moment Ichabod laid his eyes upon these regions of delight,
+the peace of his mind was at an end, and his only study was how to gain
+the affections of the peerless daughter of Van Tassel.  In this
+enterprise, however, he had more real difficulties than generally fell
+to the lot of a knight-errant of yore, who seldom had anything but
+giants, enchanters, fiery dragons, and such like easily conquered
+adversaries, to contend with; and had to make his way merely through
+gates of iron and brass and walls of adamant to the castle-keep, where
+the lady of his heart was confined; all which he achieved as easily as
+a man would carve his way to the center of a Christmas pie, and then
+the lady gave him her hand as a matter of course.  Ichabod, on the
+contrary, had to win his way to the heart of a country coquette, beset
+with a labyrinth of whims and caprices, which were forever presenting
+new difficulties and impediments, and he had to encounter a host of
+fearful adversaries of real flesh and blood, the numerous rustic
+admirers who beset every portal to her heart; keeping a watchful and
+angry eye upon each other, but ready to fly out in the common cause
+against any new competitor.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Among these, the most formidable was a burly, roaring, roistering
+blade, of the name of Abraham, or, according to the Dutch abbreviation,
+Brom Van Brunt, the hero of the country round, which rung with his
+feats of strength and hardihood.  He was broad-shouldered and
+double-jointed, with short curly black hair, and a bluff, but not
+unpleasant countenance, having a mingled air of fun and arrogance.
+From his Herculean frame and great powers of limb, he had received the
+nickname of Brom Bones, by which he was universally known.  He was
+famed for great knowledge and skill in horsemanship, being as dexterous
+on horseback as a Tartar.  He was foremost at all races and
+cock-fights, and with the ascendency which bodily strength always
+acquires in rustic life, was the umpire in all disputes, setting his
+hat on one side, and giving his decisions with an air and tone that
+admitted of no gainsay or appeal.  He was always ready for either a
+fight or a frolic; had more mischief than ill-will in his composition;
+and, with all his overbearing roughness, there was a strong dash of
+waggish good-humor at bottom.  He had three or four boon companions of
+his own stamp, who regarded him as their model, and at the head of whom
+he scoured the country, attending every scene of feud or merriment for
+miles round.  In cold weather, he was distinguished by a fur cap,
+surmounted with a flaunting fox's tail; and when the folks at a country
+gathering descried this well-known crest at a distance, whisking about
+among a squad of hard riders, they always stood by for a squall.
+Sometimes his crew would be heard dashing along past the farmhouses at
+midnight, with whoop and halloo, like a troop of Don Cossacks, and the
+old dames, startled out of their sleep, would listen for a moment till
+the hurry-scurry had clattered by, and then exclaim, "Ay, there goes
+Brom Bones and his gang!"  The neighbors looked upon him with a mixture
+of awe, admiration, and good-will; and when any madcap prank or rustic
+brawl occurred in the vicinity, always shook their heads, and warranted
+Brom Bones was at the bottom of it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This rantipole hero had for some time singled out the blooming Katrina
+for the object of his uncouth gallantries, and though his amorous
+toyings were something like the gentle caresses and endearments of a
+bear, yet it was whispered that she did not altogether discourage his
+hopes.  Certain it is, his advances were signals for rival candidates
+to retire, who felt no inclination to cross a lion in his amours;
+insomuch, that when his horse was seen tied to Van Tassel's paling, on
+a Sunday night, a sure sign that his master was courting, or, as it is
+termed, "sparking," within, all other suitors passed by in despair and
+carried the war into other quarters.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Such was the formidable rival with whom Ichabod Crane had to contend,
+and considering all things, a stouter man than he would have shrunk
+from the competition, and a wiser man would have despaired.  He had,
+however, a happy mixture of pliability and perseverance in his nature;
+he was in form and spirit like a supple-jack&mdash;yielding, but tough;
+though he bent, he never broke; and though he bowed beneath the
+slightest pressure, yet, the moment it was away&mdash;jerk!&mdash;he was as erect
+and carried his head as high as ever.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+To have taken the field openly against his rival would have been
+madness; for he was not a man to be thwarted in his amours, any more
+than that stormy lover, Achilles.  Ichabod, therefore, made his
+advances in a quiet and gently-insinuating manner.  Under cover of his
+character of singing-master, he made frequent visits at the farmhouse;
+not that he had anything to apprehend from the meddlesome interference
+of parents, which is so often a stumbling-block in the path of lovers.
+Balt Van Tassel was an easy indulgent soul; he loved his daughter
+better even than his pipe, and like a reasonable man, and an excellent
+father, let her have her way in everything.  His notable little wife,
+too, had enough to do to attend to her housekeeping and manage the
+poultry; for, as she sagely observed, ducks and geese are foolish
+things, and must be looked after, but girls can take care of
+themselves.  Thus, while the busy dame bustled about the house, or
+plied her spinning-wheel at one end of the piazza, honest Balt would
+sit smoking his evening pipe at the other, watching the achievements of
+a little wooden warrior, who, armed with a sword in each hand, was most
+valiantly fighting the wind on the pinnacle of the barn.  In the
+meantime, Ichabod would carry on his suit with the daughter by the side
+of the spring under the great elm, or sauntering along in the twilight,
+that hour so favorable to the lover's eloquence.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I profess not to know how women's hearts are wooed and won.  To me they
+have always been matters of riddle and admiration.  Some seem to have
+but one vulnerable point, or door of access; while others have a
+thousand avenues, and may be captured in a thousand different ways.  It
+is a great triumph of skill to gain the former, but a still greater
+proof of generalship to maintain possession of the latter, for a man
+must battle for his fortress at every door and window.  He that wins a
+thousand common hearts, is therefore entitled to some renown; but he
+who keeps undisputed sway over the heart of a coquette, is indeed a
+hero.  Certain it is, this was not the case with the redoubtable Brom
+Bones; and from the moment Ichabod Crane made his advances, the
+interests of the former evidently declined: his horse was no longer
+seen tied at the palings on Sunday nights, and a deadly feud gradually
+arose between him and the preceptor of Sleepy Hollow.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Brom, who had a degree of rough chivalry in his nature, would fain have
+carried matters to open warfare, and settled their pretensions to the
+lady according to the mode of those most concise and simple reasoners,
+the knights-errant of yore&mdash;by single combat; but Ichabod was too
+conscious of the superior might of his adversary to enter the lists
+against him; he had overheard the boast of Bones, that he would "double
+the schoolmaster up, and put him on a shelf"; and he was too wary to
+give him an opportunity.  There was something extremely provoking in
+this obstinately pacific system; it left Brom no alternative but to
+draw upon the funds of rustic waggery in his disposition, and to play
+off boorish practical jokes upon his rival.  Ichabod became the object
+of whimsical persecution to Bones and his gang of rough riders.  They
+harried his hitherto peaceful domains; smoked out his singing-school,
+by stopping up the chimney; broke into the schoolhouse at night, in
+spite of its formidable fastenings of withe and window stakes, and
+turned everything topsy-turvy; so that the poor schoolmaster began to
+think all the witches in the country held their meetings there.  But
+what was still more annoying, Brom took all opportunities of turning
+him into ridicule in presence of his mistress, and had a scoundrel dog
+whom he taught to whine in the most ludicrous manner, and introduced as
+a rival of Ichabod's, to instruct her in psalmody.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In this way, matters went on for some time, without producing any
+material effect on the relative situations of the contending powers.
+On a fine autumnal afternoon, Ichabod, in pensive mood, sat enthroned
+on the lofty stool from whence he usually watched all the concerns of
+his little literary realm.  In his hand he swayed a ferule, that
+scepter of despotic power; the birch of justice reposed on three nails,
+behind the throne, a constant terror to evil doers; while on the desk
+before him might be seen sundry contraband articles and prohibited
+weapons, detected upon the persons of idle urchins, such as
+half-munched apples, popguns, whirligigs, fly-cages, and whole legions
+of rampant little paper game-cocks.  Apparently there had been some
+appalling act of justice recently inflicted, for his scholars were all
+busily intent upon their books, or slyly whispering behind them with
+one eye kept upon the master; and a kind of buzzing stillness reigned
+throughout the schoolroom.  It was suddenly interrupted by the
+appearance of a negro in tow-cloth jacket and trousers, a round crowned
+fragment of a hat, like the cap of Mercury, and mounted on the back of
+a ragged, wild, half-broken colt, which he managed with a rope by way
+of halter.  He came clattering up to the school door with an invitation
+to Ichabod to attend a merry-making, or "quilting frolic," to be held
+that evening at Mynheer Van Tassel's; and having delivered his message
+with that air of importance, and effort at fine language, which a negro
+is apt to display on petty embassies of the kind, he dashed over the
+brook, and was seen scampering away up the hollow, full of the
+importance and hurry of his mission.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+All was now bustle and hubbub in the late quiet schoolroom.  The
+scholars were hurried through their lessons, without stopping at
+trifles; those who were nimble skipped over half with impunity, and
+those who were tardy had a smart application now and then in the rear,
+to quicken their speed, or help them over a tall word.  Books were
+flung aside, without being put away on the shelves; inkstands were
+overturned, benches thrown down, and the whole school was turned loose
+an hour before the usual time; bursting forth like a legion of young
+imps, yelping and racketing about the green, in joy at their early
+emancipation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The gallant Ichabod now spent at least an extra half-hour at his
+toilet, brushing and furbishing up his best, and indeed only suit of
+rusty black, and arranging his looks by a bit of broken looking-glass
+that hung up in the schoolhouse.  That he might make his appearance
+before his mistress in the true style of a cavalier, he borrowed a
+horse from the farmer with whom he was domiciliated, a choleric old
+Dutchman, of the name of Hans Van Ripper, and thus gallantly mounted,
+issued forth like a knight-errant in quest of adventures.  But it is
+meet I should, in the true spirit of romantic story, give some account
+of the looks and equipments of my hero and his steed.  The animal he
+bestrode was a broken-down plow-horse that had outlived almost
+everything but his viciousness.  He was gaunt and shagged, with a ewe
+neck and a head like a hammer; his rusty mane and tail were tangled and
+knotted with burrs; one eye had lost its pupil, and was glaring and
+spectral, but the other had the gleam of a genuine devil in it.  Still
+he must have had fire and mettle in his day, if we may judge from his
+name, which was Gunpowder.  He had, in fact, been a favorite steed of
+his master's, the choleric Van Ripper, who was a furious rider, and had
+infused, very probably, some of his own spirit into the animal; for,
+old and broken-down as he looked, there was more of the lurking devil
+in him than in any young filly in the country.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Ichabod was a suitable figure for such a steed.  He rode with short
+stirrups, which brought his knees nearly up to the pommel of the
+saddle; his sharp elbows stuck out like grasshoppers'; he carried his
+whip perpendicularly in his hand, like a scepter, and as the horse
+jogged on, the motion of his arms was not unlike the flapping of a pair
+of wings.  A small wool hat rested on the top of his nose, for so his
+scanty strip of forehead might be called, and the skirts of his black
+coat fluttered out almost to the horse's tail.  Such was the appearance
+of Ichabod and his steed as they shambled out of the gate of Hans Van
+Ripper, and it was altogether such an apparition as is seldom to be met
+with in broad daylight.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was, as I have said, a fine autumnal day; the sky was clear and
+serene, and nature wore that rich and golden livery which we always
+associate with the idea of abundance.  The forests had put on their
+sober brown and yellow, while some trees of the tenderer kind had been
+nipped by the frosts into brilliant dyes of orange, purple, and
+scarlet.  Streaming files of wild ducks began to make their appearance
+high in the air; the bark of the squirrel might be heard from the
+groves of beech and hickory-nuts, and the pensive whistle of the quail
+at intervals from the neighboring stubble-field.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The small birds were taking their farewell banquets.  In the fullness
+of their revelry, they fluttered, chirping and frolicking, from bush to
+bush and tree to tree, capricious from the very profusion and variety
+around them.  There was the honest cock-robin, the favorite game of
+stripling sportsmen, with its loud querulous note, and the twittering
+blackbirds flying in sable clouds; and the golden-winged woodpecker,
+with his crimson crest, his broad black gorget and splendid plumage;
+and the cedar-bird, with its red-tipped wings and yellow-tipped tail,
+and its little monteiro cap of feathers; and the blue jay, that noisy
+coxcomb, in his gay light blue coat and white underclothes, screaming
+and chattering, nodding, and bobbing, and bowing, and pretending to be
+on good terms with every songster of the grove.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As Ichabod jogged slowly on his way, his eye, ever open to every
+symptom of culinary abundance, ranged with delight over the treasures
+of jolly autumn.  On all sides he beheld vast store of apples, some
+hanging in oppressive opulence on the trees, some gathered into baskets
+and barrels for the market, others heaped up in rich piles for the
+cider-press.  Further on he beheld great fields of Indian corn, with
+its golden ears peeping from their leafy coverts and holding out the
+promise of cakes and hasty-pudding; and the yellow pumpkins lying
+beneath them, turning up their fair round bellies to the sun, and
+giving ample prospects of the most luxurious of pies; and anon he
+passed the fragrant buckwheat fields, breathing the odor of the
+beehive, and as he beheld them, soft anticipations stole over his mind
+of dainty slap-jacks, well-buttered, and garnished with honey or
+treacle, by the delicate little dimpled hand of Katrina Van Tassel.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thus feeding his mind with many sweet thoughts and "sugared
+suppositions," he journeyed along the sides of a range of hills which
+look out upon some of the goodliest scenes of the mighty Hudson.  The
+sun gradually wheeled his broad disk down into the west.  The wide
+bosom of the Tappaan Zee lay motionless and glassy, excepting that here
+and there a gentle undulation waved and prolonged the blue shadow of
+the distant mountain.  A few amber clouds floated in the sky, without a
+breath of air to move them.  The horizon was of a fine golden tint,
+changing gradually into a pure apple green, and from that into the deep
+blue of the mid-heaven.  A slanting ray lingered on the woody crests of
+the precipices that overhung some parts of the river, giving greater
+depth to the dark gray and purple of their rocky sides.  A sloop was
+loitering in the distance, dropping slowly down with the tide, her sail
+hanging uselessly against the mast; and as the reflection of the sky
+gleamed along the still water, it seemed as if the vessel was suspended
+in the air.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was toward evening that Ichabod arrived at the castle of the Heer
+Van Tassel, which he found thronged with the pride and flower of the
+adjacent country.  Old farmers, a spare leathern-faced race, in
+homespun coats and breeches, blue stockings, huge shoes, and
+magnificent pewter buckles.  Their brisk, withered little dames, in
+close crimped caps, long-waisted gowns, homespun petticoats, with
+scissors and pin-cushions, and gay calico pockets hanging on the
+outside.  Buxom lasses, almost as antiquated as their mothers,
+excepting where a straw hat, a fine ribbon, or perhaps a white frock,
+gave symptoms of city innovations.  The sons, in short square-skirted
+coats, with rows of stupendous brass buttons, and their hair generally
+queued in the fashion of the times, especially if they could procure an
+eelskin for the purpose, it being esteemed throughout the country as a
+potent nourisher and strengthener of the hair.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Brom Bones, however, was the hero of the scene, having come to the
+gathering on his favorite steed Daredevil, a creature, like himself,
+full of mettle and mischief, and which no one but himself could manage.
+He was, in fact, noted for preferring vicious animals, given to all
+kinds of tricks which kept the rider in constant risk of his neck, for
+he held a tractable well-broken horse as unworthy of a lad of spirit.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Fain would I pause to dwell upon the world of charms that burst upon
+the enraptured gaze of my hero, as he entered the state parlor of Van
+Tassel's mansion.  Not those of the bevy of buxom lasses, with their
+luxurious display of red and white, but the ample charms of a genuine
+Dutch country tea-table, in the sumptuous time of autumn.  Such
+heaped-up platters of cakes of various and almost indescribable kinds,
+known only to experienced Dutch housewives!  There was the doughty
+doughnut, the tender oly-koek, and the crisp and crumbling cruller;
+sweet cakes and short cakes, ginger cakes and honey cakes, and the
+whole family of cakes.  And then there were apple pies, and peach pies,
+and pumpkin pies; besides slices of ham and smoked beef; and moreover
+delectable dishes of preserved plums, and peaches, and pears, and
+quinces; not to mention broiled shad and roasted chickens; together
+with bowls of milk and cream, all mingled higgledy-piggledy, pretty
+much as I have enumerated them, with the motherly teapot sending up its
+clouds of vapor from the midst&mdash;Heaven bless the mark!  I want breath
+and time to discuss this banquet as it deserves, and am too eager to
+get on with my story.  Happily, Ichabod Crane was not in so great a
+hurry as his historian, but did ample justice to every dainty.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was a kind and thankful creature, whose heart dilated in proportion
+as his skin was filled with good cheer, and whose spirits rose with
+eating, as some men's do with drink.  He could not help, too, rolling
+his large eyes round him as he ate, and chuckling with the possibility
+that he might one day be lord of all this scene of almost unimaginable
+luxury and splendor.  Then, he thought, how soon he'd turn his back
+upon the old schoolhouse; snap his fingers in the face of Hans Van
+Ripper, and every other niggardly patron, and kick any itinerant
+pedagogue out of doors that should dare to call him comrade!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Old Baltus Van Tassel moved about among his guests with a face dilated
+with content and good-humor, round and jolly as the harvest moon.  His
+hospitable attentions were brief, but expressive, being confined to a
+shake of the hand, a slap on the shoulder, a loud laugh, and a pressing
+invitation to "fall to and help themselves."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And now the sound of the music from the common room, or hall, summoned
+to the dance.  The musician was an old gray-headed negro, who had been
+the itinerant orchestra of the neighborhood for more than half a
+century.  His instrument was as old and battered as himself.  The
+greater part of the time he scraped away on two or three strings,
+accompanying every movement of the bow with a motion of the head;
+bowing almost to the ground, and stamping with his foot whenever a
+fresh couple were to start.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Ichabod prided himself upon his dancing as much as upon his vocal
+powers.  Not a limb, not a fiber about him was idle; and to have seen
+his loosely hung frame in full motion, and clattering about the room,
+you would have thought St. Vitus himself, that blessed patron of the
+dance, was figuring before you in person.  He was the admiration of all
+the negroes; who, having gathered, of all ages and sizes, from the farm
+and the neighborhood, stood forming a pyramid of shining black faces at
+every door and window, gazing with delight at the scene, rolling their
+white eyeballs, and showing grinning rows of ivory from ear to ear.
+How could the flogger of urchins be otherwise than animated and
+joyous?&mdash;the lady of his heart was his partner in the dance, and
+smiling graciously in reply to all his amorous oglings; while Brom
+Bones, sorely smitten with love and jealousy, sat brooding by himself
+in one corner.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When the dance was at an end, Ichabod was attracted to a knot of the
+sager folks, who, with Old Van Tassel, sat smoking at one end of the
+piazza, gossiping over former times, and drawling out long stories
+about the war.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This neighborhood, at the time of which I am speaking, was one of those
+highly favored places which abound with chronicle and great men.  The
+British and American line had run near it during the war; it had,
+therefore, been the scene of marauding, and infested with refugees,
+cowboys, and all kind of border chivalry.  Just sufficient time had
+elapsed to enable each story-teller to dress up his tale with a little
+becoming fiction, and, in the indistinctness of his recollection, to
+make himself the hero of every exploit.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was the story of Doffue Martling, a large blue-bearded Dutchman,
+who had nearly taken a British frigate with an old iron nine-pounder
+from a mud breastwork, only that his gun burst at the sixth discharge.
+And there was an old gentleman who shall be nameless, being too rich a
+mynheer to be lightly mentioned, who, in the battle of White Plains,
+being an excellent master of defense, parried a musket-ball with a
+small-sword, insomuch that he absolutely felt it whiz round the blade
+and glance off at the hilt; in proof of which he was ready at any time
+to show the sword, with the hilt a little bent.  There were several
+more that had been equally great in the field, not one of whom but was
+persuaded that he had a considerable hand in bringing the war to a
+happy termination.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But all these were nothing to the tales of ghosts and apparitions that
+succeeded.  The neighborhood is rich in legendary treasures of the
+kind.  Local tales and superstitions thrive best in these sheltered
+long-settled retreats; but are trampled under foot by the shifting
+throng that forms the population of most of our country places.
+Besides, there is no encouragement for ghosts in most of our villages,
+for they have scarcely had time to finish their first nap, and turn
+themselves in their graves, before their surviving friends have
+traveled away from the neighborhood: so that when they turn out at
+night to walk their rounds, they have no acquaintance left to call
+upon.  This is perhaps the reason why we so seldom hear of ghosts
+except in our long-established Dutch communities.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The immediate cause, however, of the prevalence of supernatural stories
+in these parts was doubtless owing to the vicinity of Sleepy Hollow.
+There was a contagion in the very air that blew from that haunted
+region; it breathed forth an atmosphere of dreams and fancies infecting
+all the land.  Several of the Sleepy Hollow people were present at Van
+Tassel's, and, as usual, were doling out their wild and wonderful
+legends.  Many dismal tales were told about funeral trains, and
+mourning cries and wailings heard and seen about the great tree where
+the unfortunate Major André was taken, and which stood in the
+neighborhood.  Some mention was made also of the woman in white, that
+haunted the dark glen at Raven Rock, and was often heard to shriek on
+winter nights before a storm, having perished there in the snow.  The
+chief part of the stories, however, turned upon the favorite specter of
+Sleepy Hollow, the headless horseman, who had been heard several times
+of late, patrolling the country, and, it is said, tethered his horse
+nightly among the graves in the churchyard.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The sequestered situation of this church seems always to have made it a
+favorite haunt of troubled spirits.  It stands on a knoll, surrounded
+by locust trees and lofty elms, from among which its decent,
+whitewashed walls shine modestly forth, like Christian purity, beaming
+through the shades of retirement.  A gentle slope descends from it to a
+silver sheet of water, bordered by high trees, between which peeps may
+be caught at the blue hills of the Hudson.  To look upon its
+grass-grown yard, where the sunbeams seem to sleep so quietly, one
+would think that there at least the dead might rest in peace.  On one
+side of the church extends a wide woody dell, along which raves a large
+brook among broken rocks and trunks of fallen trees.  Over a deep black
+part of the stream, not far from the church, was formerly thrown a
+wooden bridge; the road that led to it, and the bridge itself, were
+thickly shaded by overhanging trees, which cast a gloom about it, even
+in the daytime; but occasioned a fearful darkness at night.  Such was
+one of the favorite haunts of the headless horseman, and the place
+where he was most frequently encountered.  The tale was told of old
+Brouwer, a most heretical disbeliever in ghosts, how he met the
+horseman returning from his foray into Sleepy Hollow, and was obliged
+to get up behind him; how they galloped over bush and brake, over hill
+and swamp, until they reached the bridge; when the horseman suddenly
+turned into a skeleton, threw old Brouwer into the brook, and sprang
+away over the treetops with a clap of thunder.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This story was immediately matched by a thrice marvelous adventure of
+Brom Bones, who made light of the galloping Hessian as an arrant
+jockey.  He affirmed that, on returning one night from the neighboring
+village of Sing Sing, he had been overtaken by this midnight trooper;
+that he had offered to race with him for a bowl of punch, and should
+have won it too, for Daredevil beat the goblin horse all hollow, but
+just as they came to the church bridge the Hessian bolted, and vanished
+in a flash of fire.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+All these tales, told in that drowsy undertone with which men talk in
+the dark, the countenances of the listeners only now and then receiving
+a casual gleam from the glare of a pipe, sunk deep in the mind of
+Ichabod.  He repaid them in kind with large extracts from his
+invaluable author, Cotton Mather, and added many marvelous events that
+had taken place in his native State of Connecticut, and fearful sights
+which he had seen in his nightly walks about Sleepy Hollow.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The revel now gradually broke up.  The old farmers gathered together
+their families in their wagons, and were heard for some time rattling
+along the hollow roads, and over the distant hills.  Some of the
+damsels mounted on pillions behind their favorite swains, and their
+light-hearted laughter, mingling with the clatter of hoofs, echoed
+along the silent woodlands, sounding fainter and fainter, until they
+gradually died away&mdash;and the late scene of noise and frolic was all
+silent and deserted.  Ichabod only lingered behind, according to the
+custom of country lovers, to have a tete-a-tete with the heiress, fully
+convinced that he was now on the high road to success.  What passed at
+this interview I will not pretend to say, for in fact I do not know.
+Something, however, I fear me, must have gone wrong, for he certainly
+sallied forth, after no very great interval, with an air quite desolate
+and chapfallen.&mdash;Oh, these women! these women!  Could that girl have
+been playing off any of her coquettish tricks?&mdash;Was her encouragement
+of the poor pedagogue all a mere sham to secure her conquest of his
+rival?&mdash;Heaven only knows, not I!&mdash;Let it suffice to say, Ichabod stole
+forth with the air of one who had been sacking a hen-roost, rather than
+a fair lady's heart.  Without looking to the right or left to notice
+the scene of rural wealth on which he had so often gloated, he went
+straight to the stable, and with several hearty cuffs and kicks roused
+his steed most uncourteously from the comfortable quarters in which he
+was soundly sleeping, dreaming of mountains of corn and oats, and whole
+valleys of timothy and clover.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was the very witching time of night that Ichabod, heavy-hearted and
+crestfallen, pursued his travel homeward, along the sides of the lofty
+hills which rise above Tarry Town, and which he had traversed so
+cheerily in the afternoon.  The hour was as dismal as himself.  Far
+below him the Tappaan Zee spread its dusky and indistinct waste of
+waters, with here and there the tall mast of a sloop, riding quietly at
+anchor under the land.  In the dead hush of midnight he could even hear
+the barking of the watch-dog from the opposite shore of the Hudson; but
+it was so vague and faint as only to give an idea of his distance from
+this faithful companion of man.  Now and then, too, the long-drawn
+crowing of a cock, accidentally awakened, would sound far, far off,
+from some farmhouse away among the hills&mdash;but it was like a dreaming
+sound in his ear.  No signs of life occurred near him, but occasionally
+the melancholy chirp of a cricket, or perhaps the guttural twang of a
+bullfrog from a neighboring marsh, as if sleeping uncomfortably, and
+turning suddenly in his bed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+All the stories of ghosts and goblins that he had heard in the
+afternoon now came crowding upon his recollection.  The night grew
+darker and darker, the stars seemed to sink deeper in the sky, and
+driving clouds occasionally hid them from his sight.  He had never felt
+so lonely and dismal.  He was, moreover, approaching the very place
+where many of the scenes of the ghost stories had been laid.  In the
+center of the road stood an enormous tulip tree, which towered like a
+giant above all the other trees of the neighborhood, and formed a kind
+of landmark.  Its limbs were gnarled and fantastic, large enough to
+form trunks for ordinary trees, twisting down almost to the earth, and
+rising again into the air.  It was connected with the tragical story of
+the unfortunate André, who had been taken prisoner hard by; and was
+universally known by the name of Major André's tree.  The common people
+regarded it with a mixture of respect and superstition, partly out of
+sympathy for the fate of its ill-starred namesake, and partly from the
+tales of strange sights and doleful lamentations told concerning it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As Ichabod approached this fearful tree he began to whistle; he thought
+his whistle was answered: it was but a blast sweeping sharply through
+the dry branches.  As he approached a little nearer, he thought he saw
+something white hanging in the midst of the tree: he paused, and ceased
+whistling; but, on looking more narrowly, perceived that it was a place
+where the tree had been scathed by lightning and the white wood laid
+bare.  Suddenly he heard a groan&mdash;his teeth chattered, and his knees
+smote against the saddle: it was but the rubbing of one huge bough upon
+another, as they were swayed about by the breeze.  He passed the tree
+in safety, but new perils lay before him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+About two hundred yards from the tree a small brook crossed the road,
+and ran into a marshy and thickly wooded glen known by the name of
+Wiley's Swamp.  A few rough logs, laid side by side, served for a
+bridge over this stream.  On that side of the road where the brook
+entered the wood a group of oaks and chestnuts, matted thick with wild
+grape-vines, threw a cavernous gloom over it.  To pass this bridge was
+the severest trial.  It was at this identical spot that the unfortunate
+André was captured, and under the covert of those chestnuts and vines
+were the sturdy yeomen concealed who surprised him.  This has ever
+since been considered a haunted stream, and fearful are the feelings of
+a schoolboy who has to pass it alone after dark.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As he approached the stream his heart began to thump; he summoned up,
+however, all his resolution, gave his horse half a score of kicks in
+the ribs, and attempted to dash briskly across the bridge; but instead
+of starting forward, the perverse old animal made a lateral movement,
+and ran broadside against the fence.  Ichabod, whose fears increased
+with the delay, jerked the reins on the other side, and kicked lustily
+with the contrary foot.  It was all in vain; his steed started, it is
+true, but it was only to plunge to the opposite side of the road into a
+thicket of brambles and alder-bushes.  The schoolmaster now bestowed
+both whip and heel upon the starveling ribs of old Gunpowder, who
+dashed forward, snuffling and snorting, but came to a stand just by the
+bridge with a suddenness that had nearly sent his rider sprawling over
+his head.  Just at this moment a plashy tramp by the side of the bridge
+caught the sensitive ear of Ichabod.  In the dark shadow of the grove,
+on the margin of the brook, he beheld something huge, misshapen, black
+and towering.  It stirred not, but seemed gathered up in the gloom,
+like some gigantic monster ready to spring upon the traveler.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The hair of the affrighted pedagogue rose upon his head with terror.
+What was to be done?  To turn and fly was now too late; and besides,
+what chance was there of escaping ghost or goblin, if such it was,
+which could ride upon the wings of the wind?  Summoning up, therefore,
+a show of courage, he demanded in stammering accents&mdash;"Who are you?"
+He received no reply.  He repeated his demand in a still more agitated
+voice.  Still there was no answer.  Once more he cudgeled the sides of
+the inflexible Gunpowder, and shutting his eyes, broke forth with
+involuntary fervor into a psalm tune.  Just then the shadowy object of
+alarm put itself in motion, and with a scramble and a bound stood at
+once in the middle of the road.  Though the night was dark and dismal,
+yet the form of the unknown might now in some degree be ascertained.
+He appeared to be a horseman of large dimensions, and mounted on a
+black horse of powerful frame.  He made no offer of molestation or
+sociability, but kept aloof on one side of the road, jogging along on
+the blind side of old Gunpowder, who had now got over his fright and
+waywardness.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Ichabod, who had no relish for this strange midnight companion, and
+bethought himself of the adventure of Brom Bones with the galloping
+Hessian, now quickened his steed, in hopes of leaving him behind.  The
+stranger, however, quickened his horse to an equal pace.  Ichabod
+pulled up, and fell into a walk, thinking to lag behind&mdash;the other did
+the same.  His heart began to sink within him; he endeavored to resume
+his psalm tune, but his parched tongue clove to the roof of his mouth,
+and he could not utter a stave.  There was something in the moody and
+dogged silence of this pertinacious companion that was mysterious and
+appalling.  It was soon fearfully accounted for.  On mounting a rising
+ground, which brought the figure of his fellow-traveler in relief
+against the sky, gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod
+was horror-struck, on perceiving that he was headless! but his horror
+was still more increased, on observing that the head, which should have
+rested on his shoulders, was carried before him on the pommel of his
+saddle!  His terror rose to desperation; he rained a shower of kicks
+and blows upon Gunpowder, hoping, by a sudden movement, to give his
+companion the slip&mdash;but the specter started full jump with him.  Away,
+then, they dashed through thick and thin; stones flying and sparks
+flashing at every bound.  Ichabod's flimsy garments fluttered in the
+air, as he stretched his long lank body away over his horse's head, in
+the eagerness of his flight.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They had now reached the road which turns off to Sleepy Hollow; but
+Gunpowder, who seemed possessed with a demon, instead of keeping up it,
+made an opposite turn, and plunged headlong downhill to the left.  This
+road leads through a sandy hollow, shaded by trees for about a quarter
+of a mile, where it crosses the bridge famous in goblin story; and just
+beyond swells the green knoll on which stands the whitewashed church.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As yet the panic of the steed had given his unskillful rider an
+apparent advantage in the chase; but just as he had got half-way
+through the hollow, the girths of the saddle gave way, and he felt it
+slipping from under him.  He seized it by the pommel, and endeavored to
+hold it firm, but in vain; and had just time to save himself by
+clasping old Gunpowder round the neck, when the saddle fell to the
+earth, and he heard it trampled under foot by his pursuer.  For a
+moment the terror of Hans Van Ripper's wrath passed across his
+mind&mdash;for it was his Sunday saddle; but this was no time for petty
+fears: the goblin was hard on his haunches; and (unskillful rider that
+he was!) he had much ado to maintain his seat; sometimes slipping on
+one side, sometimes on another, and sometimes jolted on the high ridge
+of his horse's backbone, with a violence that he verily feared would
+cleave him asunder.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+An opening in the trees now cheered him with the hopes that the church
+bridge was at hand.  The wavering reflection of a silver star in the
+bosom of the brook told him that he was not mistaken.  He saw the walls
+of the church dimly glaring under the trees beyond.  He recollected the
+place where Brom Bones's ghostly competitor had disappeared.  "If I can
+but reach that bridge," thought Ichabod, "I am safe."  Just then he
+heard the black steed panting and blowing close behind him; he even
+fancied that he felt his hot breath.  Another convulsive kick in the
+ribs, and old Gunpowder sprung upon the bridge; he thundered over the
+resounding planks; he gained the opposite side, and now Ichabod cast a
+look behind to see if his pursuer should vanish, according to rule, in
+a flash of fire and brimstone.  Just then he saw the goblin rising in
+his stirrups, and in the very act of hurling his head at him.  Ichabod
+endeavored to dodge the horrible missile, but too late.  It encountered
+his cranium with a tremendous crash&mdash;he was tumbled headlong into the
+dust, and Gunpowder, the black steed, and the goblin rider, passed by
+like a whirlwind.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The next morning the old horse was found without his saddle, and with
+the bridle under his feet, soberly cropping the grass at his master's
+gate.  Ichabod did not make his appearance at breakfast&mdash;dinner-hour
+came, but no Ichabod.  The boys assembled at the schoolhouse, and
+strolled idly about the banks of the brook; but no schoolmaster.  Hans
+Van Ripper now began to feel some uneasiness about the fate of poor
+Ichabod, and his saddle.  An inquiry was set on foot, and after
+diligent investigation they came upon his traces.  In one part of the
+road leading to the church was found the saddle trampled in the dirt;
+the tracks of horses' hoofs deeply dented in the road, and evidently at
+furious speed, were traced to the bridge, beyond which, on the bank of
+a broad part of the brook, where the water ran deep and black, was
+found the hat of the unfortunate Ichabod, and close beside it a
+shattered pumpkin.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The brook was searched, but the body of the schoolmaster was not to be
+discovered.  Hans Van Ripper, as executor of his estate, examined the
+bundle which contained all his worldly effects.  They consisted of two
+shirts and a half; two stocks for the neck; a pair or two of worsted
+stockings; an old pair of corduroy small-clothes; a rusty razor; a book
+of psalm tunes full of dog's ears; and a broken pitch-pipe.  As to the
+books and furniture of the schoolhouse, they belonged to the community,
+excepting Cotton Mather's "History of Witchcraft," a New England
+Almanac, and a book of dreams and fortune-telling; in which last was a
+sheet of foolscap much scribbled and blotted, by several fruitless
+attempts to make a copy of verses in honor of the heiress of Van
+Tassel.  These magic books and the poetic scrawl were forthwith
+consigned to the flames by Hans Van Ripper; who, from that time
+forward, determined to send his children no more to school; observing
+that he never knew any good come of this same reading and writing.
+Whatever money the schoolmaster possessed, and he had received his
+quarter's pay but a day or two before, he must have had about his
+person at the time of his disappearance.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The mysterious event caused much speculation at the church on the
+following Sunday.  Knots of gazers and gossips were collected in the
+churchyard, at the bridge, and at the spot where the hat and pumpkin
+had been found.  The stories of Brouwer, of Bones, and a whole budget
+of others, were called to mind; and when they had diligently considered
+them all, and compared them with the symptoms of the present case, they
+shook their heads, and came to the conclusion that Ichabod had been
+carried off by the galloping Hessian.  As he was a bachelor, and in
+nobody's debt, nobody troubled his head any more about him; the school
+was removed to a different quarter of the Hollow, and another pedagogue
+reigned in his stead.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It is true, an old farmer, who had been down to New York on a visit
+several years after, and from whom this account of the ghostly
+adventure was received, brought home the intelligence that Ichabod
+Crane was still alive; that he had left the neighborhood partly through
+fear of the goblin and Hans Van Ripper, and partly in mortification at
+having been suddenly dismissed by the heiress; that he had changed his
+quarters to a distant part of the country; had kept school and studied
+law at the same time; had been admitted to the bar; turned politician;
+electioneered; written for the newspapers; and finally had been made a
+Justice of the Ten Pound Court.  Brom Bones too, who, shortly after his
+rival's disappearance, conducted the blooming Katrina in triumph to the
+altar, was observed to look exceedingly knowing whenever the story of
+Ichabod was related, and always burst into a hearty laugh at the
+mention of the pumpkin; which led some to suspect that he knew more
+about the matter than he chose to tell.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The old country wives, however, who are the best judges of these
+matters, maintain to this day that Ichabod was spirited away by
+supernatural means; and it is a favorite story often told about the
+neighborhood round the winter evening fire.  The bridge became more
+than ever an object of superstitious awe; and that may be the reason
+why the road has been altered of late years, so as to approach the
+church by the border of the mill-pond.  The schoolhouse being deserted,
+soon fell to decay, and was reported to be haunted by the ghost of the
+unfortunate pedagogue; and the plow-boy, loitering homeward of a still
+summer evening, has often fancied his voice at a distance, chanting a
+melancholy psalm tune among the tranquil solitudes of Sleepy Hollow.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+POSTSCRIPT
+</H4>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+FOUND IN THE HANDWRITING OF MR. KNICKERBOCKER
+</H4>
+
+<P>
+The preceding Tale is given, almost in the precise words in which I
+heard it related at a Corporation meeting of the ancient city of the
+Manhattoes,[<A NAME="chap02fn2text"></A><A HREF="#chap02fn2">2</A>] at which were present many of its sagest and most
+illustrious burghers.  The narrator was a pleasant, shabby, gentlemanly
+old fellow in pepper-and-salt clothes, with a sadly humorous face; and
+one whom I strongly suspected of being poor&mdash;he made such efforts to be
+entertaining.  When his story was concluded there was much laughter and
+approbation, particularly from two or three deputy aldermen, who had
+been asleep the greater part of the time.  There was, however, one
+tall, dry-looking old gentleman, with beetling eyebrows, who maintained
+a grave and rather severe face throughout; now and then folding his
+arms, inclining his head, and looking down upon the floor, as if
+turning a doubt over in his mind.  He was one of your wary men, who
+never laugh but upon good grounds&mdash;when they have reason and the law on
+their side.  When the mirth of the rest of the company had subsided,
+and silence was restored, he leaned one arm on the elbow of his chair,
+and sticking the other a-kimbo, demanded, with a slight but exceedingly
+sage motion of the head and contraction of the brow, what was the moral
+of the story, and what it went to prove.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The story-teller, who was just putting a glass of wine to his lips, as
+a refreshment after his toils, paused for a moment, looked at his
+inquirer with an air of infinite deference, and lowering the glass
+slowly to the table, observed that the story was intended most
+logically to prove:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That there is no situation in life but has its advantages and
+pleasures&mdash;provided we will but take a joke as we find it;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That, therefore, he that runs races with goblin troopers is likely to
+have rough riding of it;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ergo, for a country schoolmaster to be refused the hand of a Dutch
+heiress is a certain step to high preferment in the State."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The cautious old gentleman knit his brows tenfold closer after this
+explanation, being sorely puzzled by the ratiocination of the
+syllogism; while, methought, the one in pepper-and-salt eyed him with
+something of a triumphant leer.  At length he observed, that all this
+was very well, but still he thought the story a little on the
+extravagant&mdash;there were one or two points on which he had his doubts:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Faith, sir," replied the story-teller, "as to that matter, I don't
+believe one-half of it myself."
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+D. K.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<P CLASS="footnote">
+<A NAME="chap02fn1"></A>
+[<A HREF="#chap02fn1text">1</A>] The whip-poor-will is a bird which is only heard at night.  It
+receives its name from its note, which is thought to resemble those
+words.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="footnote">
+<A NAME="chap02fn2"></A>
+[<A HREF="#chap02fn2text">2</A>] New York.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap03"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE GOLD-BUG
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By EDGAR ALLAN POE
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+What ho! what ho! this fellow is dancing mad!<BR>
+He hath been bitten by the Tarantula.<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 4em">&mdash;<I>All in the Wrong</I></SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+Many years ago, I contracted an intimacy with a Mr. William Legrand.
+He was of an ancient Huguenot family, and had once been wealthy; but a
+series of misfortunes had reduced him to want.  To avoid the
+mortification consequent upon his disasters, he left New Orleans, the
+city of his forefathers, and took up his residence at Sullivan's
+Island, near Charleston, South Carolina.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This island is a very singular one.  It consists of little else than
+the sea sand, and is about three miles long.  Its breadth at no point
+exceeds a quarter of a mile.  It is separated from the mainland by a
+scarcely perceptible creek, oozing its way through a wilderness of
+reeds and slime, a favorite resort of the marsh-hen.  The vegetation,
+as might be supposed, is scant, or at least dwarfish.  No trees of any
+magnitude are to be seen.  Near the western extremity, where Fort
+Moultrie stands, and where are some miserable frame buildings,
+tenanted, during the summer, by the fugitives from Charleston dust and
+fever, may be found, indeed, the bristly palmetto; but the whole
+island, with the exception of this western point, and a line of hard,
+white beach on the seacoast, is covered with a dense undergrowth of the
+sweet myrtle so much prized by the horticulturists of England.  The
+shrub here often attains the height of fifteen or twenty feet, and
+forms an almost impenetrable coppice, burdening the air with its
+fragrance.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In the inmost recesses of this coppice, not far from the eastern or
+more remote end of the island, Legrand had built himself a small hut,
+which he occupied when I first, by mere accident, made his
+acquaintance.  This soon ripened into friendship&mdash;for there was much in
+the recluse to excite interest and esteem.  I found him well educated,
+with unusual powers of mind, but infected with misanthropy, and subject
+to perverse moods of alternate enthusiasm and melancholy.  He had with
+him many books, but rarely employed them.  His chief amusements were
+gunning and fishing, or sauntering along the beach and through the
+myrtles, in quest of shells or entomological specimens&mdash;his collection
+of the latter might have been envied by a Swammerdamm.  In these
+excursions he was usually accompanied by an old negro, called Jupiter,
+who had been manumitted before the reverses of the family, but who
+could be induced, neither by threats nor by promises, to abandon what
+he considered his right of attendance upon the footsteps of his young
+"Massa Will."  It is not improbable that the relatives of Legrand,
+conceiving him to be somewhat unsettled in intellect, had contrived to
+instil this obstinacy into Jupiter, with a view to the supervision and
+guardianship of the wanderer.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The winters in the latitude of Sullivan's Island are seldom very
+severe, and in the fall of the year it is a rare event indeed when a
+fire is considered necessary.  About the middle of October, 18&mdash;, there
+occurred, however, a day of remarkable chilliness.  Just before sunset
+I scrambled my way through the evergreens to the hut of my friend, whom
+I had not visited for several weeks&mdash;my residence being, at that time,
+in Charleston, a distance of nine miles from the island, while the
+facilities of passage and re-passage were very far behind those of the
+present day.  Upon reaching the hut I rapped, as was my custom, and
+getting no reply, sought for the key where I knew it was secreted,
+unlocked the door, and went in.  A fine fire was blazing upon the
+hearth.  It was a novelty, and by no means an ungrateful one.  I threw
+off an overcoat, took an armchair by the crackling logs, and awaited
+patiently the arrival of my hosts.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Soon after dark they arrived, and gave me a most cordial welcome.
+Jupiter, grinning from ear to ear, bustled about to prepare some
+marsh-hens for supper.  Legrand was in one of his fits&mdash;how else shall
+I term them?&mdash;of enthusiasm.  He had found an unknown bivalve, forming
+a new genus, and, more than this, he had hunted down and secured, with
+Jupiter's assistance, a <I>scarabaeus</I> which he believed to be totally
+new, but in respect to which he wished to have my opinion on the morrow.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And why not to-night?" I asked, rubbing my hands over the blaze, and
+wishing the whole tribe of <I>scarabaei</I> at the devil.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, if I had only known you were here!" said Legrand, "but it's so
+long since I saw you; and how could I foresee that you would pay me a
+visit this very night, of all others?  As I was coming home I met
+Lieutenant G&mdash;&mdash;, from the fort, and, very foolishly, I lent him the
+bug; so it will be impossible for you to see it until the morning.
+Stay here to-night, and I will send Jup down for it at sunrise.  It is
+the loveliest thing in creation!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What?&mdash;sunrise?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Nonsense! no!&mdash;the bug.  It is of a brilliant gold color&mdash;about the
+size of a large hickory-nut&mdash;with two jet-black spots near one
+extremity of the back, and another, somewhat longer, at the other.  The
+<I>antennae</I> are&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dey ain't no tin in him, Massa Will, I keep a tellin' on you," here
+interrupted Jupiter; "de bug is a goole-bug, solid, ebery bit of him,
+inside and all, sep him wing&mdash;neber feel half so hebby a bug in my
+life."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, suppose it is, Jup," replied Legrand, somewhat more earnestly,
+it seemed to me, than the case demanded; "is that any reason for your
+letting the birds burn?  The color&mdash;" here he turned to me&mdash;"is really
+almost enough to warrant Jupiter's idea.  You never saw a more
+brilliant metallic lustre than the scales emit&mdash;but of this you cannot
+judge till to-morrow.  In the meantime I can give you some idea of the
+shape."  Saying this, he seated himself at a small table, on which were
+a pen and ink, but no paper.  He looked for some in a drawer, but found
+none.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Never mind," he said at length, "this will answer;" and he drew from
+his waistcoat pocket a scrap of what I took to be very dirty foolscap,
+and made upon it a rough drawing with the pen.  While he did this, I
+retained my seat by the fire, for I was still chilly.  When the design
+was complete, he handed it to me without rising.  As I received it, a
+loud growl was heard, succeeded by a scratching at the door.  Jupiter
+opened it, and a large Newfoundland, belonging to Legrand, rushed in,
+leaped upon my shoulders, and loaded me with caresses; for I had shown
+him much attention during previous visits.  When his gambols were over,
+I looked at the paper, and, to speak the truth, found myself not a
+little puzzled at what my friend had depicted.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well!" I said, after contemplating it for some minutes, "this <I>is</I> a
+strange <I>scarabaeus</I>, I must confess; new to me; never saw anything
+like it before&mdash;unless it was a skull, or a death's-head, which it more
+nearly resembles than anything else that has come under <I>my</I>
+observation."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A death's-head!" echoed Legrand.  "Oh&mdash;yes well, it has something of
+that appearance upon paper, no doubt.  The two upper black spots look
+like eyes, eh? and the longer one at the bottom like a mouth&mdash;and then
+the shape of the whole is oval."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Perhaps so," said I; "but, Legrand, I fear you are no artist.  I must
+wait until I see the beetle itself, if I am to form any idea of its
+personal appearance."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, I don't know," said he, a little nettled, "I draw
+tolerably&mdash;<I>should</I> do it at least&mdash;have had good masters, and flatter
+myself that I am not quite a blockhead."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But, my dear fellow, you are joking, then," said I; "this is a very
+passable <I>skull</I>&mdash;indeed, I may say that it is a very <I>excellent</I>
+skull, according to the vulgar notions about such specimens of
+physiology&mdash;and your <I>scarabaeus</I> must be the queerest <I>scarabaeus</I> in
+the world if it resembles it.  Why, we may get up a very thrilling bit
+of superstition upon this hint.  I presume you will call the bug
+<I>scarabaeus caput hominis</I>, or something of that kind&mdash;there are many
+similar titles in the Natural Histories.  But where are the <I>antennae</I>
+you spoke of?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The <I>antennae</I>!" said Legrand, who seemed to be getting unaccountably
+warm upon the subject; "I am sure you must see the <I>antennae</I>.  I made
+them as distinct as they are in the original insect, and I presume that
+is sufficient."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, well," I said, "perhaps you have&mdash;still I don't see them;" and I
+handed him the paper without additional remark, not wishing to ruffle
+his temper; but I was much surprised at the turn affairs had taken; his
+ill humor puzzled me&mdash;and, as for the drawing of the beetle, there were
+positively <I>no antennae</I> visible, and the whole did bear a very close
+resemblance to the ordinary cuts of a death's-head.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He received the paper very peevishly, and was about to crumple it,
+apparently to throw it in the fire, when a casual glance at the design
+seemed suddenly to rivet his attention.  In an instant his face grew
+violently red&mdash;in another excessively pale.  For some minutes he
+continued to scrutinize the drawing minutely where he sat.  At length
+he arose, took a candle from the table, and proceeded to seat himself
+upon a sea-chest in the furthest corner of the room.  Here again he
+made an anxious examination of the paper; turning it in all directions.
+He said nothing, however, and his conduct greatly astonished me; yet I
+thought it prudent not to exacerbate the growing moodiness of his
+temper by any comment.  Presently he took from his coat-pocket a
+wallet, placed the paper carefully in it, and deposited both in a
+writing-desk, which he locked.  He now grew more composed in his
+demeanor; but his original air of enthusiasm had quite disappeared.
+Yet he seemed not so much sulky as abstracted.  As the evening wore
+away he became more and more absorbed in revery, from which no sallies
+of mine could arouse him.  It had been my intention to pass the night
+at the hut, as I had frequently done before, but, seeing my host in
+this mood, I deemed it proper to take leave.  He did not press me to
+remain, but, as I departed, he shook my hand with even more than his
+usual cordiality.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was about a month after this (and during the interval I had seen
+nothing of Legrand) when I received a visit, at Charleston, from his
+man, Jupiter.  I had never seen the good old negro look so dispirited,
+and I feared that some serious disaster had befallen my friend.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, Jup," said I, "what is the matter now?&mdash;how is your master?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, to speak de troof, massa, him not so berry well as mought be."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Not well!  I am truly sorry to hear it.  What does he complain of?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dar! dat's it!&mdash;him neber 'plain of notin'&mdash;but him berry sick for all
+dat."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"<I>Very</I> sick, Jupiter!&mdash;why didn't you say so at once?  Is he confined
+to bed?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, dat he aint&mdash;he aint 'fin'd nowhar&mdash;dat's just whar de shoe
+pinch&mdash;my mind is got to be berry hebby 'bout poor Massa Will."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Jupiter, I should like to understand what it is you are talking about.
+You say your master is sick.  Hasn't he told you what ails him?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, massa, 'taint worf while for to git mad about de matter&mdash;Massa
+Will say noffin at all aint de matter wid him&mdash;but den what make him go
+about looking dis here way, wid he head down and he soldiers up, and as
+white as a goose?  And den he keep a syphon all de time&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Keeps a what, Jupiter?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Keeps a syphon wid de figgurs on de slate&mdash;de queerest figgurs I ebber
+did see.  Ise gittin' to be skeered, I tell you.  Hab for to keep
+mighty tight eye 'pon him 'noovers.  Todder day he gib me slip 'fore de
+sun up and was gone de whole ob de blessed day.  I had a big stick
+ready cut for to gib him deuced good beating when he did come&mdash;but Ise
+sich a fool dat I hadn't de heart arter all&mdash;he looked so berry poorly."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Eh?&mdash;what?&mdash;ah yes!&mdash;upon the whole I think you had better not be too
+severe with the poor fellow&mdash;don't flog him, Jupiter&mdash;he can't very
+well stand it&mdash;but can you form no idea of what has occasioned this
+illness, or rather this change of conduct?  Has anything unpleasant
+happened since I saw you?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, massa, dey aint bin noffin onpleasant <I>since</I> den&mdash;'twas <I>'fore</I>
+den I'm feared&mdash;'twas de berry day you was dare."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How? what do you mean?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, massa, I mean de bug&mdash;dare now."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The what?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"De bug&mdash;I'm berry sartin dat Massa Will bin bit somewhere 'bout de
+head by dat goole-bug."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And what cause have you, Jupiter, for such a supposition?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Claws enuff, massa, and mouff, too.  I nebber did see sich a deuced
+bug&mdash;he kick and he bite ebery ting what cum near him.  Massa Will
+cotch him fuss, but had for to let him go 'gin mighty quick, I tell
+you&mdash;den was de time he must ha' got de bite.  I didn't like de look ob
+de bug mouff, myself, nohow, so I wouldn't take hold ob him wid my
+finger, but I cotch him wid a piece ob paper dat I found.  I rap him up
+in de paper and stuff a piece of it in he mouff&mdash;dat was de way."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And you think, then, that your master was really bitten by the beetle,
+and that the bite made him sick?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I don't think noffin about it&mdash;I nose it.  What make him dream 'bout
+de goole so much, if 'taint cause he bit by the goole-bug?  Ise heered
+'bout dem goole-bugs 'fore dis."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But how do you know he dreams about gold?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How I know? why, 'cause he talk about it in he sleep&mdash;dat's how I
+nose."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, Jup, perhaps you are right; but to what fortunate circumstance
+am I to attribute the honor of a visit from you to-day?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What de matter, massa?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Did you bring any message from Mr. Legrand?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, massa, I bring dis here pissel;" and here Jupiter handed me a note
+which ran thus:
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"My Dear&mdash;: Why have I not seen you for so long a time?  I hope you
+have not been so foolish as to take offence at any little brusquerie of
+mine; but no, that is improbable.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Since I saw you I have had great cause for anxiety.  I have something
+to tell you, yet scarcely know how to tell it, or whether I should tell
+it at all.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I have not been quite well for some days past, and poor old Jup annoys
+me, almost beyond endurance, by his well-meant attentions.  Would you
+believe it?&mdash;he had prepared a huge stick, the other day, with which to
+chastise me for giving him the slip, and spending the day, solus, among
+the hills on the main land.  I verily believe that my ill looks alone
+saved me a flogging.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I have made no addition to my cabinet since we met.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If you can, in any way, make it convenient, come over with Jupiter.
+Do come.  I wish to see you to-night, upon business of importance.  I
+assure you that it is of the highest importance.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="nonident">
+"Ever yours,<BR>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"William Legrand."<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+There was something in the tone of this note which gave me great
+uneasiness.  Its whole style differed materially from that of Legrand.
+What could he be dreaming of?  What new crotchet possessed his
+excitable brain?  What "business of the highest importance" could he
+possibly have to transact?  Jupiter's account of him boded no good.  I
+dreaded lest the continued pressure of misfortune had, at length,
+fairly unsettled the reason of my friend.  Without a moment's
+hesitation, therefore, I prepared to accompany the negro.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Upon reaching the wharf, I noticed a scythe and three spades, all
+apparently new, lying in the bottom of the boat in which we were to
+embark.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What is the meaning of all this, Jup?" I inquired.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Him syfe, massa, and spade."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Very true; but what are they doing here?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Him de syfe and de spade what Massa Will sis pon my buying for him in
+de town, and de debbil's own lot of money I had to gib for 'em."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But what, in the name of all that is mysterious, is your 'Massa Will'
+going to do with scythes and spades?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dat's more dan <I>I</I> know, and debbil take me if I don't b'lieve 'tis
+more dan he know, too.  But it's all cum ob de bug."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Finding that no satisfaction was to be obtained of Jupiter, whose whole
+intellect seemed to be absorbed by "de bug," I now stepped into the
+boat, and made sail.  With a fair and strong breeze we soon ran into
+the little cove to the northward of Port Moultrie, and a walk of some
+two miles brought us to the hut.  It was about three in the afternoon
+when we arrived.  Legrand had been awaiting us in eager expectation.
+He grasped my hand with a nervous <I>empressement</I> which alarmed me and
+strengthened the suspicions already entertained.  His countenance was
+pale even to ghastliness, and his deep-set eyes glared with unnatural
+lustre.  After some inquiries respecting his health, I asked him, not
+knowing what better to say, if he had yet obtained the <I>scarabaeus</I>
+from Lieutenant G&mdash;&mdash;.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, yes," he replied, coloring violently, "I got it from him the next
+morning.  Nothing should tempt me to part with that <I>scarabaeus</I>.  Do
+you know that Jupiter is quite right about it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"In what way?" I asked, with a sad foreboding at heart.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"In supposing it to be a bug of real gold."  He said this with an air
+of profound seriousness, and I felt inexpressibly shocked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"This bug is to make my fortune," he continued, with a triumphant
+smile; "to reinstate me in my family possessions.  Is it any wonder,
+then, that I prize it?  Since Fortune has thought fit to bestow it upon
+me, I have only to use it properly, and I shall arrive at the gold of
+which it is the index.  Jupiter, bring me that <I>scarabaeus</I>!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What! de bug, massa?  I'd rudder not go fer trubble dat bug; you mus'
+git him for your own self."  Hereupon Legrand arose, with a grave and
+stately air, and brought me the beetle from a glass case in which it
+was enclosed.  It was a beautiful <I>scarabaeus</I>, and, at that time,
+unknown to naturalists&mdash;of course a great prize in a scientific point
+of view.  There were two round black spots near one extremity of the
+back, and a long one near the other.  The scales were exceedingly hard
+and glossy, with all the appearance of burnished gold.  The weight of
+the insect was very remarkable, and, taking all things into
+consideration, I could hardly blame Jupiter for his opinion respecting
+it; but what to make of Legrand's concordance with that opinion, I
+could not, for the life of me, tell.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I sent for you," said he, in a grandiloquent tone, when I had
+completed my examination of the beetle, "I sent for you that I might
+have your counsel and assistance in furthering the views of Fate and of
+the frag&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"My dear Legrand," I cried, interrupting him, "you are certainly
+unwell, and had better use some little precautions.  You shall go to
+bed, and I will remain with you a few days, until you get over this.
+You are feverish and&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Feel my pulse," said he.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I felt it, and to say the truth, found not the slightest indication of
+fever.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But you may be ill and yet have no fever.  Allow me this once to
+prescribe for you.  In the first place, go to bed.  In the next&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You are mistaken," he interposed, "I am as well as I can expect to be
+under the excitement which I suffer.  If you really wish me well, you
+will relieve this excitement."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And how is this to be done?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Very easily.  Jupiter and myself are going upon an expedition into the
+hills, upon the mainland, and, in this expedition, we shall need the
+aid of some person in whom we can confide.  You are the only one we can
+trust.  Whether we succeed or fail, the excitement which you now
+perceive in me will be equally allayed."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am anxious to oblige you in any way," I replied; "but do you mean to
+say that this infernal beetle has any connection with your expedition
+into the hills?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It has."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then, Legrand, I can become a party to no such absurd proceeding."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am sorry&mdash;very sorry&mdash;for we shall have to try it by ourselves."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Try it by yourselves!  The man is surely mad!&mdash;but stay!&mdash;how long do
+you propose to be absent?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Probably all night.  We shall start immediately, and be back, at all
+events, by sunrise."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And will you promise me, upon your honor, that when this freak of
+yours is over, and the bug business (good God!) settled to your
+satisfaction, you will then return home and follow my advice
+implicitly, as that of your physician?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes; I promise; and now let us be off, for we have no time to lose."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+With a heavy heart I accompanied my friend.  We started about four
+o'clock&mdash;Legrand, Jupiter, the dog, and myself.  Jupiter had with him
+the scythe and spades&mdash;the whole of which he insisted upon
+carrying&mdash;more through fear, it seemed to me, of trusting either of the
+implements within reach of his master, than from any excess of industry
+or complaisance.  His demeanor was dogged in the extreme, and "dat
+deuced bug" were the sole words which escaped his lips during the
+journey.  For my own part, I had charge of a couple of dark lanterns,
+while Legrand contented himself with the <I>scarabaeus</I>, which he carried
+attached to the end of a bit of whip-cord; twirling it to and fro, with
+the air of a conjurer, as he went.  When I observed this last, plain
+evidence of my friend's aberration of mind, I could scarcely refrain
+from tears.  I thought it best, however, to humor his fancy, at least
+for the present, or until I could adopt some more energetic measures
+with a chance of success.  In the meantime I endeavored, but all in
+vain, to sound him in regard to the object of the expedition.  Having
+succeeded in inducing me to accompany him, he seemed unwilling to hold
+conversation upon any topic of minor importance, and to all my
+questions vouchsafed no other reply than "we shall see!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We crossed the creek at the head of the island by means of a skiff,
+and, ascending the high grounds on the shore of the main land,
+proceeded in a northwesterly direction, through a tract of country
+excessively wild and desolate, where no trace of a human footstep was
+to be seen.  Legrand led the way with decision; pausing only for an
+instant, here and there, to consult what appeared to be certain
+landmarks of his own contrivance upon a former occasion.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In this manner we journeyed for about two hours, and the sun was just
+setting when we entered a region infinitely more dreary than any yet
+seen.  It was a species of table-land, near the summit of an almost
+inaccessible hill, densely wooded from base to pinnacle, and
+interspersed with huge crags that appeared to lie loosely upon the
+soil, and in many cases were prevented from precipitating themselves
+into the valleys below, merely by the support of the trees against
+which they reclined.  Deep ravines, in various directions, gave an air
+of still sterner solemnity to the scene.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The natural platform to which we had clambered was thickly overgrown
+with brambles, through which we soon discovered that it would have been
+impossible to force our way but for the scythe; and Jupiter, by
+direction of his master, proceeded to clear for us a path to the foot
+of an enormously tall tulip-tree, which stood, with some eight or ten
+oaks, upon the level, and far surpassed them all, and all other trees
+which I had then ever seen, in the beauty of its foliage and form, in
+the wide spread of its branches, and in the general majesty of its
+appearance.  When we reached this tree, Legrand turned to Jupiter, and
+asked him if he thought he could climb it.  The old man seemed a little
+staggered by the question, and for some moments made no reply.  At
+length he approached the huge trunk, walked slowly around it and
+examined it with minute attention.  When he had completed his scrutiny,
+he merely said:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, massa, Jup climb any tree he eber see in he life."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then up with you as soon as possible for it will soon be too dark to
+see what we are about."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How far mus' go up, massa?" inquired Jupiter.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Get up the main trunk first, and then I will tell you which way to
+go&mdash;and here&mdash;stop! take this beetle with you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"De bug, Massa Will!&mdash;de goole-bug!" cried the negro, drawing back in
+dismay&mdash;"what for mus tote de bug way up de tree?&mdash;d&mdash;n if I do!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If you are afraid, Jup, a great big negro like you, to take hold of a
+harmless little dead beetle, why you can carry it up by this
+string&mdash;but, if you do not take it up with you in some way, I shall be
+under the necessity of breaking your head with this shovel."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What de matter now, massa?" said Jup, evidently shamed into
+compliance; "always want for to raise fuss wid old nigger.  Was only
+funnin, anyhow.  Me feered de bug! what I keer for de bug?"  Here he
+took cautiously hold of the extreme end of the string, and, maintaining
+the insect as far from his person as circumstances would permit,
+prepared to ascend the tree.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In youth, the tulip-tree, or <I>Liriodendron Tulipiferum</I>, the most
+magnificent of American foresters, has a trunk peculiarly smooth, and
+often rises to a great height without lateral branches; but, in its
+riper age, the bark becomes gnarled and uneven, while many short limbs
+make their appearance on the stem.  Thus the difficulty of ascension,
+in the present case, lay more in semblance than in reality.  Embracing
+the huge cylinder, as closely as possible with his arms and knees,
+seizing with his hands some projections, and resting his naked toes
+upon others, Jupiter, after one or two narrow escapes from falling, at
+length wriggled himself into the first great fork, and seemed to
+consider the whole business as virtually accomplished.  The <I>risk</I> of
+the achievement was, in fact, now over, although the climber was some
+sixty or seventy feet from the ground.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Which way mus go now, Massa Will?" he asked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Keep up the largest branch&mdash;the one on this side," said Legrand.  The
+negro obeyed him promptly, and apparently with but little trouble;
+ascending higher and higher, until no glimpse of his squat figure could
+be obtained through the dense foliage which enveloped it.  Presently
+his voice was heard in a sort of halloo.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How much fudder is got for go?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How high up are you?" asked Legrand.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ebber so fur," replied the negro; "can see de sky fru de top ob de
+tree."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Never mind the sky, but attend to what I say.  Look down the trunk and
+count the limbs below you on this side.  How many limbs have you
+passed?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"One, two, tree, four, fibe&mdash;I done pass fibe big limb, massa, 'pon dis
+side."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then go one limb higher."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In a few minutes the voice was heard again, announcing that the seventh
+limb was attained.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Now, Jup," cried Legrand, evidently much excited, "I want you to work
+your way out upon that limb as far as you can.  If you see anything
+strange let me know."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+By this time what little doubt I might have entertained of my poor
+friend's insanity was put finally at rest.  I had no alternative but to
+conclude him stricken with lunacy, and I became seriously anxious about
+getting him home.  While I was pondering upon what was best to be done,
+Jupiter's voice was again heard.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mos feered for to ventur pon dis limb berry far&mdash;'tis dead limb putty
+much all de way."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Did you say it was a <I>dead</I> limb, Jupiter?" cried Legrand in a
+quavering voice.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, massa, him dead as de door-nail&mdash;done up for sartin&mdash;done
+departed dis here life."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What in the name of heaven shall I do?" asked Legrand, seemingly in
+the greatest distress.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Do!" said I, glad of an opportunity to interpose a word, "why, come
+home and go to bed.  Come now!&mdash;that's a fine fellow.  It's getting
+late, and, besides, you remember your promise."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Jupiter," cried he, without heeding me in the least, "do you hear me?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, Massa Will, hear you ebber so plain."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Try the wood well, then, with your knife, and see if you think it very
+rotten."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Him rotten, massa, sure nuff," replied the negro in a few moments,
+"but not so berry rotten as mought be.  Mought venture our leetle way
+pon de limb by myself, dat's true."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"By yourself!&mdash;what do you mean?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, I mean de bug.  'Tis <I>berry</I> hebby bug.  Spose I drop him down
+fuss, and den de limb won't break wid just de weight of one nigger."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You infernal scoundrel!" cried Legrand, apparently much relieved,
+"what do you mean by telling me such nonsense as that?  As sure as you
+drop that beetle I'll break your neck.  Look here, Jupiter, do you hear
+me?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, massa, needn't hollo at poor nigger dat style."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well! now listen!&mdash;if you will venture out on the limb as far as you
+think safe, and not let go the beetle, I'll make you a present of a
+silver dollar as soon as you get down."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm gwine, Massa Will&mdash;deed I is," replied the negro very
+promptly&mdash;"mos out to the eend now."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"<I>Out to the end!</I>" here fairly screamed Legrand; "do you say you are
+out to the end of that limb?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Soon be to the eend, massa&mdash;o-o-o-o-oh!  Lor-gol-a-mercy! what <I>is</I>
+dis here pon de tree?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well!" cried Legrand, highly delighted, "what is it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, 'taint noffin but a skull&mdash;somebody bin lef him head up de tree,
+and de crows done gobble ebery bit ob de meat off."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A skull, you say!&mdash;very well&mdash;how is it fastened to the limb?&mdash;what
+holds it on?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Sure nuff, massa; mus look.  Why dis berry curious sarcumstance, pon
+my word&mdash;dare's a great big nail in de skull, what fastens ob it on to
+de tree."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well now, Jupiter, do exactly as I tell you&mdash;do you hear?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, massa."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Pay attention, then&mdash;find the left eye of the skull."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hum! hoo! dat's good! why dey ain't no eye lef at all."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Curse your stupidity! do you know your right hand from your left?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, I knows dat&mdash;knows all about dat&mdash;'tis my lef hand what I chops
+de wood wid."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"To be sure! you are left-handed; and your left eye is on the same side
+as your left hand.  Now, I suppose, you can find the left eye of the
+skull, or the place where the left eye has been.  Have you found it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Here was a long pause.  At length the negro asked:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Is de lef eye of de skull pon de same side as de lef hand of de skull,
+too?&mdash;cause de skull aint got not a bit ob a hand at all&mdash;nebber mind!
+I got de lef eye now&mdash;here de lef eye! what mus do wid it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Let the beetle drop through it, as far as the string will reach&mdash;but
+be careful and not let go your hold of the string."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"All dat done, Massa Will; mighty easy ting for to put de bug fru de
+hole&mdash;look out for him dare below!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+During this colloquy no portion of Jupiter's person could be seen; but
+the beetle, which he had suffered to descend, was now visible at the
+end of the string, and glistened, like a globe of burnished gold, in
+the last rays of the setting sun, some of which still faintly illumined
+the eminence upon which we stood.  The <I>scarabaeus</I> hung quite clear of
+any branches, and, if allowed to fall, would have fallen at our feet.
+Legrand immediately took the scythe, and cleared with it a circular
+space, three or four yards in diameter, just beneath the insect, and
+having accomplished this, ordered Jupiter to let go the string and come
+down from the tree.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Driving a peg, with great nicety, into the ground, at the precise spot
+where the beetle fell, my friend now produced from his pocket a
+tape-measure.  Fastening one end of this at that point of the trunk of
+the tree which was nearest the peg, he unrolled it till it reached the
+peg and thence further unrolled it, in the direction already
+established by the two points of the tree and the peg, for the distance
+of fifty feet&mdash;Jupiter clearing away the brambles with the scythe.  At
+the spot thus attained a second peg was driven, and about this, as a
+centre, a rude circle, about four feet in diameter, described.  Taking
+now a spade himself, and giving one to Jupiter and one to me, Legrand
+begged us to set about digging as quickly as possible.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+To speak the truth, I had no especial relish for such amusement at any
+time, and, at that particular moment, would willingly have declined it;
+for the night was coming on, and I felt much fatigued with the exercise
+already taken; but I saw no mode of escape, and was fearful of
+disturbing my poor friend's equanimity by a refusal.  Could I have
+depended, indeed, upon Jupiter's aid, I would have had no hesitation in
+attempting to get the lunatic home by force; but I was too well assured
+of the old negro's disposition to hope that he would assist me, under
+any circumstances, in a personal contest with his master.  I made no
+doubt that the latter had been infected with some of the innumerable
+Southern superstitions about money buried, and that his phantasy had
+received confirmation by the finding of the <I>scarabaeus</I>, or, perhaps,
+by Jupiter's obstinacy in maintaining it to be "a bug of real gold."  A
+mind disposed to lunacy would readily be led away by such
+suggestions&mdash;especially if chiming in with favorite preconceived
+ideas&mdash;and then I called to mind the poor fellow's speech about the
+beetle's being "the index of his fortune."  Upon the whole, I was sadly
+vexed and puzzled, but, at length, I concluded to make a virtue of
+necessity&mdash;to dig with a good will, and thus the sooner to convince the
+visionary, by ocular demonstration, of the fallacy of the opinion he
+entertained.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The lanterns having been lit, we all fell to work with a zeal worthy a
+more rational cause; and, as the glare fell upon our persons and
+implements, I could not help thinking how picturesque a group we
+composed, and how strange and suspicious our labors must have appeared
+to any interloper who, by chance, might have stumbled upon our
+whereabout.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We dug very steadily for two hours.  Little was said; and our chief
+embarrassment lay in the yelpings of the dog, who took exceeding
+interest in our proceedings.  He, at length, became so obstreperous
+that we grew fearful of his giving the alarm to some stragglers in the
+vicinity&mdash;or, rather, this was the apprehension of Legrand;&mdash;for
+myself, I should have rejoiced at any interruption which might have
+enabled me to get the wanderer home.  The noise was, at length, very
+effectually silenced by Jupiter, who, getting out of the hole with a
+dogged air of deliberation, tied the brute's mouth up with one of his
+suspenders, and then returned, with a grave chuckle, to his task.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When the time mentioned had expired, we had reached a depth of five
+feet, and yet no signs of any treasure became manifest.  A general
+pause ensued, and I began to hope that the farce was at an end.
+Legrand, however, although evidently much disconcerted, wiped his brow
+thoughtfully and recommenced.  We had excavated the entire circle of
+four feet diameter, and now we slightly enlarged the limit, and went to
+the further depth of two feet.  Still nothing appeared.  The
+gold-seeker, whom I sincerely pitied, at length clambered from the pit,
+with the bitterest disappointment imprinted upon every feature, and
+proceeded, slowly and reluctantly, to put on his coat, which he had
+thrown off at the beginning of his labor.  In the meantime I made no
+remark.  Jupiter, at a signal from his master, began to gather up his
+tools.  This done, and the dog having been unmuzzled, we turned in
+profound silence toward home.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We had taken, perhaps, a dozen steps in this direction, when, with a
+loud oath, Legrand strode up to Jupiter, and seized him by the collar.
+The astonished negro opened his eyes and mouth to the fullest extent,
+let fall the spades, and fell upon his knees.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You scoundrel!" said Legrand, hissing out the syllables from between
+his clinched teeth&mdash;"you infernal black villain!&mdash;speak, I tell
+you!&mdash;answer me this instant, without prevarication!&mdash;which&mdash;which is
+your left eye?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, my golly, Massa Will! aint dis here my lef eye for attain?" roared
+the terrified Jupiter, placing his hand upon his right organ of vision,
+and holding it there with a desperate pertinacity, as if in immediate
+dread of his master's attempt at a gouge.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I thought so!&mdash;I knew it! hurrah!" vociferated Legrand, letting the
+negro go and executing a series of curvets and caracols, much to the
+astonishment of his valet, who, arising from his knees, looked, mutely,
+from his master to myself, and then from myself to his master.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Come! we must go back," said the latter, "the game's not up yet;" and
+he again led the way to the tulip-tree.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Jupiter," said he, when we reached its foot, "come here! was the skull
+nailed to the limb with the face outward, or with the face to the limb?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"De face was out, massa, so dat de crows could get at de eyes good,
+widout any trouble."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, then, was it this eye or that through which you dropped the
+beetle?" here Legrand touched each of Jupiter's eyes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Twas dis eye, massa&mdash;de lef eye&mdash;jis as you tell me," and here it was
+his right eye that the negro indicated.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That will do&mdash;we must try it again."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Here my friend, about whose madness I now saw, or fancied that I saw,
+certain indications of method, removed the peg which marked the spot
+where the beetle fell, to a spot about three inches to the westward of
+its former position.  Taking, now, the tape measure from the nearest
+point of the trunk to the peg, as before, and continuing the extension
+in a straight line to the distance of fifty feet, a spot was indicated,
+removed, by several yards, from the point at which we had been digging.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Around the new position a circle, somewhat larger than in the former
+instance, was now described, and we again set to work with the spade.
+I was dreadfully weary, but, scarcely understanding what had occasioned
+the change in my thoughts, I felt no longer any great aversion from the
+labor imposed.  I had become most unaccountably interested&mdash;nay, even
+excited.  Perhaps there was something, amid all the extravagant
+demeanor of Legrand&mdash;some air of forethought, or of deliberation, which
+impressed me.  I dug eagerly, and now and then caught myself actually
+looking, with something that very much resembled expectation, for the
+fancied treasure, the vision of which had demented my unfortunate
+companion.  At a period when such vagaries of thought most fully
+possessed me, and when we had been at work perhaps an hour and a half,
+we were again interrupted by the violent howlings of the dog.  His
+uneasiness, in the first instance, had been, evidently, but the result
+of playfulness or caprice, but he now assumed a bitter and serious
+tone.  Upon Jupiter's again attempting to muzzle him, he made furious
+resistance, and, leaping into the hole, tore up the mould frantically
+with his claws.  In a few seconds he had uncovered a mass of human
+bones, forming two complete skeletons, intermingled with several
+buttons of metal, and what appeared to be the dust of decayed woollen.
+One or two strokes of a spade upturned the blade of a large Spanish
+knife, and, as we dug further, three or four loose pieces of gold and
+silver coin came to light.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At sight of these the joy of Jupiter could scarcely be restrained, but
+the countenance of his master wore an air of extreme disappointment.
+He urged us, however, to continue our exertions, and the words were
+hardly uttered when I stumbled and fell forward, having caught the toe
+of my boot in a large ring of iron that lay half buried in the loose
+earth.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We now worked in earnest, and never did I pass ten minutes of more
+intense excitement.  During this interval we had fairly unearthed an
+oblong chest of wood, which, from its perfect preservation and
+wonderful hardness, had plainly been subjected to some mineralizing
+process&mdash;perhaps that of the bi-chloride of mercury.  This box was
+three feet and a half long, three feet broad, and two and a half feet
+deep.  It was firmly secured by bands of wrought iron, riveted, and
+forming a kind of open trellis-work over the whole.  On each side of
+the chest, near the top, were three rings of iron&mdash;six in all&mdash;by means
+of which a firm hold could be obtained by six persons.  Our utmost
+united endeavors served only to disturb the coffer very slightly in its
+bed.  We at once saw the impossibility of removing so great a weight.
+Luckily, the sole fastenings of the lid consisted of two sliding bolts.
+These we drew back&mdash;trembling and panting with anxiety.  In an instant,
+a treasure of incalculable value lay gleaming before us.  As the rays
+of the lanterns fell within the pit, there flashed upward a glow and a
+glare, from a confused heap of gold and of jewels, that absolutely
+dazzled our eyes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I shall not pretend to describe the feelings with which I gazed.
+Amazement was, of course, predominant.  Legrand appeared exhausted with
+excitement, and spoke very few words.  Jupiter's countenance wore, for
+some minutes, as deadly a pallor as it is possible, in the nature of
+things, for any negro's visage to assume.  He seemed
+stupefied&mdash;thunderstricken.  Presently he fell upon his knees in the
+pit, and burying his naked arms up to the elbows in gold, let them
+there remain, as if enjoying the luxury of a bath.  At length, with a
+deep sigh, he exclaimed, as if in a soliloquy:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And dis all cum ob de goole-bug! de putty goole-bug! de poor little
+goole-bug, what I boosed in that sabage kind ob style!  Aint you shamed
+ob yourself, nigger?&mdash;answer me dat!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It became necessary, at last, that I should arouse both master and
+valet to the expediency of removing the treasure.  It was growing late,
+and it behooved us to make exertion, that we might get everything
+housed before daylight.  It was difficult to say what should be done,
+and much time was spent in deliberation&mdash;so confused were the ideas of
+all.  We, finally, lightened the box by removing two-thirds of its
+contents, when we were enabled, with some trouble, to raise it from the
+hole.  The articles taken out were deposited among the brambles, and
+the dog left to guard them, with strict orders from Jupiter neither,
+upon any pretence, to stir from the spot, nor to open his mouth until
+our return.  We then hurriedly made for home with the chest; reaching
+the hut in safety, but after excessive toil, at one o'clock in the
+morning.  Worn out as we were, it was not in human nature to do more
+immediately.  We rested until two, and had supper; starting for the
+hills immediately afterward, armed with three stout sacks, which, by
+good luck, were upon the premises.  A little before four we arrived at
+the pit, divided the remainder of the booty, as equally as might be,
+among us, and, leaving the holes unfilled, again set out for the hut,
+at which, for the second time, we deposited our golden burdens, just as
+the first faint streaks of the dawn gleamed from over the tree-tops in
+the East.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We were now thoroughly broken down; but the intense excitement of the
+time denied us repose.  After an unquiet slumber of some three or four
+hours' duration, we arose, as if by preconcert, to make examination of
+our treasure.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The chest had been full to the brim, and we spent the whole day, and
+the greater part of the next night, in a scrutiny of its contents.
+There had been nothing like order or arrangement.  Everything had been
+heaped in promiscuously.  Having assorted all with care, we found
+ourselves possessed of even vaster wealth than we had at first
+supposed.  In coin, there was rather more than four hundred and fifty
+thousand dollars&mdash;estimating the value of the pieces, as accurately as
+we could, by the tables of the period.  There was not a particle of
+silver.  All was gold of antique date and of great variety&mdash;French,
+Spanish, and German money, with a few English guineas, and some
+counters, of which we had never seen specimens before.  There were
+several very large and heavy coins, so worn that we could make nothing
+of their inscriptions.  There was no American money.  The value of the
+jewels we found more difficulty in estimating.  There were
+diamonds&mdash;some of them exceedingly large and fine&mdash;a hundred and ten in
+all, and not one of them small; eighteen rubies of remarkable
+brilliancy;&mdash;three hundred and ten emeralds, all very beautiful; and
+twenty-one sapphires, with an opal.  These stones had all been broken
+from their settings and thrown loose in the chest.  The settings
+themselves, which we picked out from among the other gold, appeared to
+have been beaten up with hammers, as if to prevent identification.
+Besides all this, there was a vast quantity of solid gold ornaments;
+nearly two hundred massive finger and ear rings; rich chains&mdash;thirty of
+these, if I remember; eighty-three very large and heavy crucifixes;
+five gold censers of great value; a prodigious golden punch-bowl,
+ornamented with richly chased vine-leaves and Bacchanalian figures;
+with two sword-handles exquisitely embossed, and many other smaller
+articles which I can not recollect.  The weight of these valuables
+exceeded three hundred and fifty pounds avoirdupois; and in this
+estimate I have not included one hundred and ninety-seven superb gold
+watches; three of the number being worth each five hundred dollars, if
+one.  Many of them were very old, and as timekeepers, valueless; the
+works having suffered, more or less, from corrosion&mdash;but all were
+richly jewelled and in cases of great worth.  We estimated the entire
+contents of the chest, that night, at a million and a half of dollars;
+and upon the subsequent disposal of the trinkets and jewels (a few
+being retained for our own use), it was found that we had greatly
+undervalued the treasure.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When, at length, we had concluded our examination, and the intense
+excitement of the time had, in some measure, subsided, Legrand, who saw
+that I was dying with impatience for a solution of this most
+extraordinary riddle, entered into a full detail of all the
+circumstances connected with it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You remember," said he, "the night when I handed you the rough sketch
+I had made of the <I>scarabaeus</I>.  You recollect, also, that I became
+quite vexed at you for insisting that my drawing resembled a
+death's-head.  When you first made this assertion I thought you were
+jesting; but afterward I called to mind the peculiar spots on the back
+of the insect, and admitted to myself that your remark had some little
+foundation in fact.  Still, the sneer at my graphic powers irritated
+me&mdash;for I am considered a good artist&mdash;and, therefore, when you handed
+me the scrap of parchment, I was about to crumple it up and throw it
+angrily into the fire."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The scrap of paper, you mean," said I.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No; it had much of the appearance of paper, and at first I supposed it
+to be such, but when I came to draw upon it, I discovered it at once to
+be a piece of very thin parchment.  It was quite dirty, you remember.
+Well, as I was in the very act of crumpling it up, my glance fell upon
+the sketch at which you had been looking, and you may imagine my
+astonishment when I perceived, in fact, the figure of a death's-head
+just where, it seemed to me, I had made the drawing of the beetle.  For
+a moment I was too much amazed to think with accuracy.  I knew that my
+design was very different in detail from this&mdash;although there was a
+certain similarity in general outline.  Presently I took a candle, and
+seating myself at the other end of the room, proceeded to scrutinize
+the parchment more closely.  Upon turning it over, I saw my own sketch
+upon the reverse, just as I had made it.  My first idea, now, was mere
+surprise at the really remarkable similarity of outline&mdash;at the
+singular coincidence involved in the fact that, unknown to me, there
+should have been a skull upon the other side of the parchment,
+immediately beneath my figure of the <I>scarabaeus</I>, and that this skull,
+not only in outline but in size, should so closely resemble my drawing.
+I say the singularity of this coincidence absolutely stupefied me for a
+time.  This is the usual effect of such coincidences.  The mind
+struggles to establish a connection&mdash;a sequence of cause and
+effect&mdash;and, being unable to do so, suffers a species of temporary
+paralysis.  But, when I recovered from this stupor, there dawned upon
+me gradually a conviction which startled me even far more than the
+coincidence.  I began distinctly, positively, to remember that there
+had been no drawing upon the parchment when I made my sketch of the
+<I>scarabaeus</I>.  I became perfectly certain of this; for I recollected
+turning up first one side and then the other, in search of the cleanest
+spot.  Had the skull been then there, of course I could not have failed
+to notice it.  Here was indeed a mystery which I felt it impossible to
+explain; but, even at that early moment, there seemed to glimmer,
+faintly, within the most remote and secret chambers of my intellect, a
+glow-worm-like conception of that truth which last night's adventure
+brought to so magnificent a demonstration.  I arose at once, and,
+putting the parchment securely away, dismissed all further reflection
+until I should be alone.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"When you had gone, and when Jupiter was fast asleep, I betook myself
+to a more methodical investigation of the affair.  In the first place,
+I considered the manner in which the parchment had come into my
+possession.  The spot where we discovered the <I>scarabaeus</I> was on the
+coast of the mainland, about a mile eastward of the island, and but a
+short distance above high-water mark.  Upon my taking hold of it, it
+gave me a sharp bite, which caused me to let it drop.  Jupiter, with
+his accustomed caution, before seizing the insect, which had flown
+toward him, looked about him for a leaf, or something of that nature,
+by which to take hold of it.  It was at this moment that his eyes, and
+mine also, fell upon the scrap of parchment, which I then supposed to
+be paper.  It was lying half buried in the sand, a corner sticking up.
+Near the spot where we found it, I observed the remnants of the hull of
+what appeared to have been a ship's long-boat.  The wreck seemed to
+have been there for a very great while; for the resemblance to boat
+timbers could scarcely be traced.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, Jupiter picked up the parchment, wrapped the beetle in it, and
+gave it to me.  Soon afterward we turned to go home, and on the way met
+Lieutenant G&mdash;&mdash;.  I showed him the insect, and he begged me to let him
+take it to the fort.  Upon my consenting, he thrust it forthwith into
+his waistcoat pocket, without the parchment in which it had been
+wrapped, and which I had continued to hold in my hand during his
+inspection.  Perhaps he dreaded my changing my mind, and thought it
+best to make sure of the prize at once&mdash;you know how enthusiastic he is
+on all subjects connected with Natural History.  At the same time,
+without being conscious of it, I must have deposited the parchment in
+my own pocket.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You remember that when I went to the table for the purpose of making a
+sketch of the beetle, I found no paper where it was usually kept.  I
+looked in the drawer, and found none there.  I searched my pockets,
+hoping to find an old letter, when my hand fell upon the parchment.  I
+thus detail the precise mode in which it came into my possession; for
+the circumstances impressed me with peculiar force.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No doubt you will think me fanciful&mdash;but I had already established a
+kind of connection.  I had put together two links of a great chain.
+There was a boat lying upon a seacoast, and not far from the boat was a
+parchment&mdash;<I>not a paper</I>&mdash;with a skull depicted upon it.  You will, of
+course, ask 'where is the connection?'  I reply that the skull, or
+death's-head, is the well-known emblem of the pirate.  The flag of the
+death's-head is hoisted in all engagements.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I have said that the scrap was parchment, and not paper.  Parchment is
+durable&mdash;almost imperishable.  Matters of little moment are rarely
+consigned to parchment; since, for the mere ordinary purposes of
+drawing or writing, it is not nearly so well adapted as paper.  This
+reflection suggested some meaning&mdash;some relevancy&mdash;in the death's-head.
+I did not fail to observe, also, the <I>form</I> of the parchment.  Although
+one of its corners had been, by some accident, destroyed, it could be
+seen that the original form was oblong.  It was just such a slip,
+indeed, as might have been chosen for a memorandum&mdash;for a record of
+something to be long remembered and carefully preserved."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But," I interposed, "you say that the skill was not upon the parchment
+when you made the drawing of the beetle.  How then do you trace any
+connection between the boat and the skull&mdash;-since this latter,
+according to your own admission, must have been designed (God only
+knows how or by whom) at some period subsequent to your sketching the
+<I>scarabaeus</I>?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, hereupon turns the whole mystery; although the secret, at this
+point, I had comparatively little difficulty in solving.  My steps were
+sure, and could afford but a single result I reasoned, for example,
+thus: When I drew the <I>scarabaeus</I>, there was no skull apparent upon
+the parchment When I had completed the drawing I gave it to you, and
+observed you narrowly until you returned it.  You, therefore, did not
+design the skull, and no one else was present to do it.  Then it was
+not done by human agency.  And nevertheless it was done.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"At this stage of my reflections I endeavored to remember, and <I>did</I>
+remember, with entire distinctness, every incident which occurred about
+the period in question.  The weather was chilly (oh, rare and happy
+accident!), and a fire was blazing upon the hearth.  I was heated with
+exercise and sat near the table.  You, however, had drawn a chair close
+to the chimney.  Just as I placed the parchment in your hand, and as
+you were in the act of inspecting it, Wolf, the Newfoundland, entered,
+and leaped upon your shoulders.  With your left hand you caressed him
+and kept him off, while your right, holding the parchment, was
+permitted to fall listlessly between your knees, and in close proximity
+to the fire.  At one moment I thought the blaze had caught it, and was
+about to caution you, but, before I could speak, you had withdrawn it,
+and were engaged in its examination.  When I considered all these
+particulars, I doubted not for a moment that heat had been the agent in
+bringing to light, upon the parchment, the skull which I saw designed
+upon it.  You are well aware that chemical preparations exist, and have
+existed time out of mind, by means of which it is possible to write
+upon either paper or vellum, so that the characters shall become
+visible only when subjected to the action of fire.  Zaffre, digested in
+<I>aqua regia</I>, and diluted with four times its weight of water, is
+sometimes employed; a green tint results.  The regulus of cobalt,
+dissolved in spirit of nitre, gives a red.  These colors disappear at
+longer or shorter intervals after the material written upon cools, but
+again become apparent upon the reapplication of heat.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I now scrutinized the death's-head with care.  Its outer edges&mdash;the
+edges of the drawing nearest the edge of the vellum&mdash;were far more
+<I>distinct</I> than the others.  It was clear that the action of the
+caloric had been imperfect or unequal.  I immediately kindled a fire,
+and subjected every portion of the parchment to a glowing heat.  At
+first, the only effect was the strengthening of the faint lines in the
+skull; but, upon persevering in the experiment, there became visible,
+at the corner of the slip, diagonally opposite to the spot in which the
+death's-head was delineated, the figure of what I at first supposed to
+be a goat.  A closer scrutiny, however, satisfied me that it was
+intended for a kid."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ha! ha!" said I, "to be sure I have no right to laugh at you&mdash;a
+million and a half of money is too serious a matter for mirth&mdash;but you
+are not about to establish a third link in your chain&mdash;you will not
+find any especial connection between your pirates and a goat&mdash;pirates,
+you know, have nothing to do with goats; they appertain to the farming
+interest."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But I have just said that the figure was <I>not</I> that of a goat."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, a kid, then&mdash;pretty much the same thing."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Pretty much, but not altogether," said Legrand.  "You may have heard
+of one <I>Captain</I> Kidd.  I at once looked upon the figure of the animal
+as a kind of punning or hieroglyphical signature.  I say signature,
+because, its position upon the vellum suggested this idea.  The
+death's-head at the corner diagonally opposite, had, in the same
+manner, the air of a stamp, or seal.  But I was sorely put out by the
+absence of all else&mdash;of the body to my imagined instrument&mdash;of the text
+for my context."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I presume you expected to find a letter between the stamp and the
+signature."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Something of that kind.  The fact is, I felt irresistibly impressed
+with a presentiment of some vast good fortune impending.  I can
+scarcely say why.  Perhaps, after all, it was rather a desire than an
+actual belief;&mdash;but do you know that Jupiter's silly words, about the
+bug being of solid gold, had a remarkable effect upon my fancy?  And
+then the series of accidents and coincidents&mdash;these were so <I>very</I>
+extraordinary.  Do you observe how mere an accident it was that these
+events should have occurred upon the <I>sole</I> day of all the year in
+which it has been, or may be sufficiently cool for foe, and that
+without the fire, or without the intervention of the dog at the precise
+moment in which he appeared, I should never have become aware of the
+death's-head, and so never the possessor of the treasure?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But proceed&mdash;I am all impatience."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well; you have heard, of course, the many stories current&mdash;the
+thousand vague rumors afloat about money buried, somewhere upon the
+Atlantic coast, by Kidd and his associates.  These rumors must have had
+some foundation in fact.  And that the rumors have existed so long and
+so continuously, could have resulted, it appeared to me, only from the
+circumstance of the buried treasures still <I>remaining</I> entombed.  Had
+Kidd concealed his plunder for a time, and afterward reclaimed it, the
+rumors would scarcely have reached us in their present unvarying form.
+You will observe that the stories told are all about money-seekers, not
+about money-finders.  Had the pirate recovered his money, there the
+affair would have dropped.  It seemed to me that some accident&mdash;say the
+loss of a memorandum indicating its locality&mdash;had deprived him of the
+means of recovering it, and that this accident had become known to his
+followers, who otherwise might never have heard that the treasure had
+been concealed at all, and who, busying themselves in vain, because
+unguided, attempts to regain it, had given first birth, and then
+universal currency, to the reports which are now so common.  Have you
+ever heard of any important treasure being unearthed along the coast?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Never."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But that Kidd's accumulations were immense, is well known.  I took it
+for granted, therefore, that the earth still held them; and you will
+scarcely be surprised when I tell you that I felt a hope, nearly
+amounting to certainty, that the parchment so strangely found involved
+a lost record of the place of deposit."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But how did you proceed?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I held the vellum again to the fire, after increasing the heat, but
+nothing appeared.  I now thought it possible that the coating of dirt
+might have something to do with the failure: so I carefully rinsed the
+parchment by pouring warm water over it, and, having done this, I
+placed it in a tin pan, with the skull downward, and put the pan upon a
+furnace of lighted charcoal.  In a few minutes, the pan having become
+thoroughly heated, I removed the slip, and, to my inexpressible joy,
+found it spotted, in several places, with what appeared to be figures
+arranged in lines.  Again I placed it in the pan, and suffered it to
+remain another minute.  Upon taking it off, the whole was just as you
+see it now."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Here Legrand, having reheated the parchment, submitted it to my
+inspection.  The following characters were rudely traced in a red tint,
+between the death's-head and the goat:
+</P>
+
+<PRE>
+"53&Dagger;&Dagger;t3o5))6*;4826)4&Dagger;)4&Dagger;.;8o6*;48&dagger;8&para;6o))85
+;1&Dagger;(;:&Dagger;*8&dagger;83(88)5*&dagger;;46(;88*96e*?;8)*&Dagger;(;485);5*&dagger;2:*
+&Dagger;(;4956*2(5*&mdash;4)8&para;8*;4o69285);)6&dagger;8)4tt;1(&Dagger;9;48o81
+;8:8&Dagger;1;48t85;4)485&dagger;5288o6*81(&Dagger;9;48;(88;4(&Dagger;
+?34;48)4&Dagger;;161;:188:188;&Dagger;?;"
+</PRE>
+
+<P>
+"But," said I, returning him the slip, "I am as much in the dark as
+ever.  Were all the jewels of Golconda awaiting me upon my solution of
+this enigma, I am quite sure that I should be unable to earn them."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And yet," said Legrand, "the solution is by no means so difficult as
+you might be led to imagine from the first hasty inspection of the
+characters.  These characters, as any one might readily guess, form a
+cipher&mdash;that is to say, they convey a meaning; but then from what is
+known of Kidd, I could not suppose him capable of constructing any of
+the more abstruse cryptographs, I made up my mind, at once, that this
+was of a simple species&mdash;such, however, as would appear, to the crude
+intellect of the sailor, absolutely insoluble without the key."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And you really solved it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Readily; I have solved others of an abstruseness ten thousand times
+greater.  Circumstances, and a certain bias of mind, have led me to
+take interest in such riddles, and it may well be doubted whether human
+ingenuity can construct an enigma of the kind which human ingenuity may
+not, by proper application, resolve.  In fact, having once established
+connected and legible characters, I scarcely gave a thought to the mere
+difficulty of developing their import.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"In the present case&mdash;indeed, in all cases of secret writing&mdash;the first
+question regards the <I>language</I> of the cipher; for the principles of
+solution, so far, especially, as the more simple ciphers are concerned,
+depend upon, and are varied by, the genius of the particular idiom.  In
+general, there is no alternative but experiment (directed by
+probabilities) of every tongue known to him who attempts the solution,
+until the true one be attained.  But, with the cipher now before us all
+difficulty was removed by the signature.  The pun upon the word 'Kidd'
+is appreciable in no other language than the English.  But for this
+consideration I should have begun my attempts with Spanish and French,
+as the tongues in which a secret of this kind would most naturally have
+been written by a pirate of the Spanish, main.  As it was, I assumed
+the cryptograph to be English.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You observe there are no divisions between the words.  Had there been
+divisions the task would have been comparatively easy.  In such cases I
+should have commenced with a collation and analysis of the shorter
+words, and, had a word of a single letter occurred, as is most likely
+(<I>a</I> or <I>I</I>, for example), I should have considered the solution as
+assured.  But, there being no division, my first step was to ascertain
+the predominant letters, as well as the least frequent.  Counting all,
+I constructed a table thus:
+</P>
+
+<PRE>
+    Of the characters 8 there are 33.
+                      ;     "     26
+                      4     "     19
+                      *     "     16
+                     &Dagger;)     "     13
+                      5     "     14
+                      6     "     11
+                     &dagger;1     "      8
+                      o     "      6
+                     92     "      5
+                     :3     "      4
+                      ?     "      3
+                      &para;     "      2
+                    --.     "      1
+</PRE>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"Now, in English, the letter which most frequently occurs is <I>e</I>.
+Afterward, the succession runs thus: <I>a o i d h n r s t u y c f g l m w
+b k p q x z</I>.  E predominates so remarkably, that an individual
+sentence of any length is rarely seen, in which it is not the
+prevailing character.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Here, then, we have, in the very beginning, the groundwork for
+something more than a mere guess.  The general use which may be made of
+the table is obvious&mdash;but, in this particular cipher, we shall only
+very partially require its aid.  As our predominant character is 8, we
+will commence by assuming it as the <I>e</I> of the natural alphabet.  To
+verify the supposition, let us observe if the 8 be seen often in
+couples&mdash;for <I>e</I> is doubled with great frequency in English&mdash;in such
+words, for example, as 'meet,' 'fleet,' 'speed,' 'seen,' 'been,'
+'agree,' etc.  In the present instance we see it doubled no less than
+five times, although the cryptograph is brief.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Let us assume 8, then, as <I>e</I>.  Now, of all <I>words</I> in the language,
+'the' is most usual; let us see, therefore, whether there are not
+repetitions of any three characters, in the same order of collocation,
+the last of them being 8.  If we discover repetitions of such letters,
+so arranged, they will most probably represent the word 'the.'  Upon
+inspection, we find no less than seven such arrangements, the
+characters being ;48.  We may, therefore, assume that ; represents <I>t</I>,
+4 represents <I>h</I>, and 8 represents <I>e</I>&mdash;the last being now well
+confirmed.  Thus a great step has been taken.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But, having established a single word, we are enabled to establish a
+vastly important point; that is to say, several commencements and
+terminations of other words.  Let us refer, for example, to the last
+instance but one, in which the combination ;48 occurs&mdash;not far from the
+end of the cipher.  We know that the ; immediately ensuing is the
+commencement of a word, and, of six characters succeeding this 'the,'
+we are cognizant of no less than five.  Let us set these characters
+down, thus, by the letters we know them to represent, leaving a space
+for the unknown&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center">
+t eeth.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"Here we are enabled, at once, to discard the '<I>th</I>,' as forming no
+portion of the word commencing with the first <I>t</I>; since, by experiment
+of the entire alphabet for a letter adapted to the vacancy, we perceive
+that no word can be formed of which this <I>th</I> can be a part.  We are
+thus narrowed into
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center">
+t ee,<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+and, going through the alphabet, if necessary, as before, we arrive at
+the word 'tree,' as the sole possible reading.  We thus gain another
+letter, <I>r</I>, represented by (, with the words 'the tree' in
+juxtaposition.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Looking beyond these words, for a short distance, we again see the
+combination ;48, and employ it by way of termination to what
+immediately precedes.  We have thus this arrangement:
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center">
+the tree;4([dagger]?34 the,<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+or, substituting the natural letters, where known, it reads thus:
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center">
+the tree thr[double dagger]?3h the.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"Now, if, in the place of the unknown characters, we leave blank
+spaces, or substitute dots, we read thus:
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center">
+the tree thr...h the,<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+when the word 'through' makes itself evident at once.  But this
+discovery gives us three new letters, <I>o</I>, <I>u</I>, and <I>g</I>, represented by
+[double dagger], ?, and 3.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Looking now, narrowly, through the cipher for combinations of known
+characters, we find, not very far from the beginning, this arrangement,
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center">
+83(88, or egree.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+which plainly, is the conclusion of the word 'degree,' and gives us
+another letter, <I>d</I>, represented by [dagger].
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Four letters beyond the word 'degree,' we perceive the combination
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center">
+;46(;88<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"Translating the known characters, and representing the unknown by
+dots, as before, we read thus:
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center">
+th.rtee,<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+an arrangement immediately suggestive of the word 'thirteen,' and again
+furnishing us with two new characters, <I>i</I> and <I>n</I>, represented by 6
+and *.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Referring, now, to the beginning of the cryptograph, we find the
+combination,
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center">
+53[double dagger][double dagger][dagger].<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"Translating as before, we obtain
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center">
+.good,<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+which assures us that the first letter is <I>A</I>, and that the first two
+words are 'A good.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is now time that we arrange our key, as far as discovered, in a
+tabular form, to avoid confusion.  It will stand thus:
+</P>
+
+<PRE>
+     5           represents a
+     &dagger;                "     d
+     8                "     e
+     3                "     g
+     4                "     h
+     6                "     i
+     *                "     n
+     &Dagger;                "     o
+     (                "     r
+     :                "     t
+     ?                "     u
+</PRE>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"We have, therefore, no less than eleven of the most important letters
+represented, and it will be unnecessary to proceed with the details of
+the solution.  I have said enough to convince you that ciphers of this
+nature are readily soluble, and to give you some insight into the
+<I>rationale</I> of their development.  But be assured that the specimen
+before us appertains to the very simplest species of cryptograph.  It
+now only remains to give you the full translation of the characters
+upon the parchment, as unriddled.  Here it is:
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"'<I>A good glass in the
+bishop's hostel in the devil's seat forty-one degrees and thirteen
+minutes northeast and by north main branch seventh limb east side shoot
+from the left eye of the death's-head a bee-line from the tree through
+the shot fifty feet out.</I>'"
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"But," said I, "the enigma seems still in as bad a condition as ever.
+How is it possible to extort a meaning from all this jargon about
+'devil's seats,' 'death's-head,' and 'bishop's hotels?'"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I confess," replied Legrand, "that the matter still wears a serious
+aspect, when regarded with a casual glance.  My first endeavor was to
+divide the sentence into the natural division intended by the
+cryptographist."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You mean, to punctuate it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Something of that kind."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But how was it possible to effect this?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I reflected that it had been a point with the writer to run his words
+together without division, so as to increase the difficulty of
+solution.  Now, a not over-acute man, in pursuing such an object, would
+be nearly certain to overdo the matter.  When, in the course of his
+composition, he arrived at a break in his subject which would naturally
+require a pause, or a point, he would be exceedingly apt to run his
+characters, at this place, more than usually close together.  If you
+will observe the MS., in the present instance, you will easily detect
+five such cases of unusual crowding.  Acting upon this hint, I made the
+division thus:
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"'<I>A good glass in the bishop's hostel in the devil's seat&mdash;forty-one
+degrees and thirteen minutes&mdash;northeast and by north&mdash;main branch
+seventh limb east side&mdash;shoot from the left eye of the death's-head&mdash;a
+bee-line from the tree through the shot fifty feet out.</I>'"
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"Even this division," said I, "leaves me still in the dark."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It left me also in the dark," replied Legrand, "for a few days; during
+which I made diligent inquiry in the neighborhood of Sullivan's Island,
+for any building which went by name of the 'Bishop's Hotel'; for, of
+course, I dropped the obsolete word 'hostel.'  Gaining no information
+on the subject, I was on the point of extending my sphere of search,
+and proceeding in a more systematic manner, when, one morning, it
+entered into my head, quite suddenly, that this 'Bishop's Hostel' might
+have some reference to an old family, of the name of Bessop, which,
+time out of mind, had held possession of an ancient manor-house, about
+four miles to the northward of the island.  I accordingly went over to
+the plantation, and reinstituted my inquiries among the older negroes
+of the place.  At length one of the most aged of the women said that
+she had heard of such a place as Bessop's Castle, and thought that she
+could guide me to it, but that it was not a castle, nor a tavern, but a
+high rock.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I offered to pay her well for her trouble, and, after some demur, she
+consented to accompany me to the spot.  We found it without much
+difficulty, when, dismissing her, I proceeded to examine the place.
+The 'castle' consisted of an irregular assemblage of cliffs and
+rocks&mdash;one of the latter being quite remarkable for its height as well
+as for its insulated and artificial appearance.  I clambered to its
+apex, and then felt much at a loss as to what should be next done.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"While I was busied in reflection, my eyes fell upon a narrow ledge in
+the eastern face of the rock, perhaps a yard below the summit upon
+which I stood.  This ledge projected about eighteen inches, and was not
+more than a foot wide, while a niche in the cliff just above it gave it
+a rude resemblance to one of the hollow-backed chairs used by our
+ancestors.  I made no doubt that here was the 'devil's-seat' alluded to
+in the MS., and now I seemed to grasp the full secret of the riddle.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The 'good glass,' I knew, could have reference to nothing but a
+telescope; for the word 'glass' is rarely employed in any other sense
+by seamen.  Now here, I at once saw, was a telescope to be used, and a
+definite point of view, admitting <I>no variation</I>, from which to use it.
+Nor did I hesitate to believe that the phrases, 'forty-one degrees and
+thirteen minutes,' and 'northeast and by north,' were intended as
+directions for the levelling of the glass.  Greatly excited by these
+discoveries, I hurried home, procured a telescope, and returned to the
+rock.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I let myself down to the ledge, and found that it was impossible to
+retain a seat upon it except in one particular position.  This fact
+confirmed my preconceived idea.  I proceeded to use the glass.  Of
+course, the 'forty-one degrees and thirteen minutes' could allude to
+nothing but elevation above the visible horizon, since the horizontal
+direction was clearly indicated by the words, 'northeast and by north.'
+This latter direction I at once established by means of a
+pocket-compass; then, pointing the glass as nearly at an angle of
+forty-one degrees of elevation as I could do it by guess, I moved it
+cautiously up or down, until my attention was arrested by a circular
+rift or opening in the foliage of a large tree that overtopped its
+fellows in the distance.  In the centre of this rift I perceived a
+white spot, but could not, at first, distinguish what it was.
+Adjusting the focus of the telescope, I again looked, and now made it
+out to be a human skull.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Upon this discovery I was so sanguine as to consider the enigma
+solved; for the phrase 'main branch, seventh limb, east side,' could
+refer only to the position of the skull upon the tree, while 'shoot
+from the left eye of the death's-head' admitted, also, of but one
+interpretation, in regard to a search for buried treasure.  I perceived
+that the design was to drop a bullet from the left eye of the skull,
+and that a bee-line, or, in other words, a straight line, drawn from
+the nearest point of the trunk through the shot (or the spot where the
+bullet fell), and thence extended to a distance of fifty feet, would
+indicate a definite point&mdash;and beneath this point I thought it at least
+<I>possible</I> that a deposit of value lay concealed."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"All this," I said, "is exceedingly clear, and, although ingenious,
+still simple and explicit.  When you left the Bishop's Hotel, what
+then?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, having carefully taken the bearings of the tree, I turned
+homeward.  The instant that I left 'the devil's-seat,' however, the
+circular rift vanished; nor could I get a glimpse of it afterward, turn
+as I would.  What seems to me the chief ingenuity in this whole
+business, is the fact (for repeated experiment has convinced me it <I>is</I>
+a fact) that the circular opening in question is visible from no other
+attainable point of view than that afforded by the narrow ledge upon
+the face of the rock.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"In this expedition to the 'Bishop's Hotel' I had been attended by
+Jupiter, who had, no doubt, observed, for some weeks past, the
+abstraction of my demeanor, and took especial care not to leave me
+alone.  But, on the next day, getting up very early, I contrived to
+give him the slip, and went into the hills in search of the tree.
+After much toil I found it.  When I came home at night my valet
+proposed to give me a flogging.  With the rest of the adventure I
+believe you are as well acquainted as myself."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I suppose," said I, "you missed the spot, in the first attempt at
+digging, through Jupiter's stupidity in letting the bug fall through
+the right instead of through the left eye of the skull."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Precisely.  This mistake made a difference of about two inches and a
+half in the 'shot'&mdash;that is to say, in the position of the peg nearest
+the tree; and had the treasure been <I>beneath</I> the 'shot,' the error
+would have been of little moment; but 'the shot,' together with the
+nearest point of the tree, were merely two points for the establishment
+of a line of direction; of course, the error, however trivial in the
+beginning, increased as we proceeded with the line, and by the time we
+had gone fifty feet threw us quite off the scent.  But for my
+deep-seated impressions that treasure was here somewhere actually
+buried, we might have had all our labor in vain."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But your grandiloquence, and your conduct in swinging the beetle&mdash;how
+excessively odd!  I was sure you were mad.  And why did you insist upon
+letting fall the bug, instead of a bullet, from the skull?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, to be frank, I felt somewhat annoyed by your evident suspicions
+touching my sanity, and so resolved to punish you quietly, in my own
+way, by a little bit of sober mystification.  For this reason I swung
+the beetle, and for this reason I let it fall from the tree.  An
+observation of yours about its great weight suggested the latter idea."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, I perceive; and now there is only one point which puzzles me.
+What are we to make of the skeletons found in the hole?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That is a question I am no more able to answer than yourself.  There
+seems, however, only one plausible way of accounting for them&mdash;and yet
+it is dreadful to believe in such atrocity as my suggestion would
+imply.  It is clear that Kidd&mdash;if Kidd indeed secreted this treasure,
+which I doubt not&mdash;it is clear that he must have had assistance in the
+labor.  But this labor concluded, he may have thought it expedient to
+remove all participants in his secret.  Perhaps a couple of blows with
+a mattock were sufficient, while his coadjutors were busy in the pit;
+perhaps it required a dozen&mdash;who shall tell?"
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap04"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CORPORAL FLINT'S MURDER
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By J. FENIMORE COOPER
+</H4>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+Half an hour passed after the execution of the missionary before the
+chiefs commenced their proceedings with the corporal.  The delay was
+owing to a consultation, in which The Weasel had proposed despatching a
+party to the castle, to bring in the family, and thus make a common
+destruction of the remaining pale-faces known to be in that part of the
+Openings.  Peter did not dare to oppose this scheme, himself; but he so
+managed as to get Crowsfeather to do it, without bringing himself into
+the foreground.  The influence of the Pottawattamie prevailed, and it
+was decided to torture this one captive, and to secure his scalp,
+before they proceeded to work their will on the others.  Ungque, who
+had gained ground rapidly by his late success, was once more
+commissioned to state to the captive the intentions of his captors.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Brother," commenced The Weasel, placing himself directly in front of
+the corporal, "I am about to speak to you.  A wise warrior opens his
+ears, when he hears the voice of his enemy.  He may learn something it
+will be good for him to know.  It will be good for you to know what I
+am about to say.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Brother, you are a pale-face, and we are Injins.  You wish to get our
+hunting-grounds, and we wish to keep them.  To keep them, it has become
+necessary to take your scalp.  I hope you are ready to let us have it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The corporal had but an indifferent knowledge of the Indian language,
+but he comprehended all that was uttered on this occasion.  Interest
+quickened his faculties, and no part of what was said was lost.  The
+gentle, slow, deliberate manner in which The Weasel delivered himself,
+contributed to his means of understanding.  He was fortunately prepared
+for what he heard, and the announcement of his approaching fate did not
+disturb him to the degree of betraying weakness.  This last was a
+triumph in which the Indians delighted, though they ever showed the
+most profound respect for such of their victims as manifested a manly
+fortitude.  It was necessary to reply, which the corporal did in
+English, knowing that several present could interpret his words.  With
+a view to render this the more easy, he spoke in fragments of
+sentences, and with great deliberation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Injins," returned the corporal, "you surrounded me, and I have been
+taken prisoner&mdash;had there been a platoon on us, you mightn't have made
+out quite so well.  It's no great victory for three hundred warriors to
+overcome a single man.  I count Parson Amen as worse than nothing, for
+he looked to neither rear nor flank.  If I could have half an hour's
+work upon you, with only half of our late company, I think we should
+lower your conceit.  But that is impossible, and so you may do just
+what you please with me.  I ask no favors."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Although this answer was very imperfectly translated, it awakened a
+good deal of admiration.  A man who could look death so closely in the
+face, with so much steadiness, became a sort of hero in Indian eyes;
+and with the North American savage, fortitude is a virtue not inferior
+to courage.  Murmurs of approbation were heard, and Ungque was
+privately requested to urge the captive further, in order to see how
+far present appearances were likely to be maintained.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Brother, I have said that we are Injins," resumed The Weasel, with an
+air so humble, and a voice so meek, that a stranger might have supposed
+he was consoling, instead of endeavoring to intimidate, the prisoner.
+"It is true.  We are nothing but poor, ignorant Injins.  We can only
+torment our prisoners after Injin fashion.  If we were pale-faces, we
+might do better.  We did not torment the medicine-priest.  We were
+afraid he would laugh at our mistakes.  He knew a great deal.  We know
+but little.  We do as well as we know how.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Brother, when Injins do as well as they know how, a warrior should
+forget their mistakes.  We wish to torment you, in a way to prove that
+you are all over man.  We wish so to torment you that you will stand up
+under the pain in such a way that it will make our young men think your
+mother was not a squaw&mdash;that there is no woman in you.  We do this for
+our own honor, as well as for yours.  It will be an honor to us to have
+such a captive; it will be an honor to you to be such a captive.  We
+shall do as well as we know how.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Brother, it is most time to begin.  The tormenting will last a long
+time.  We must not let the medicine-priest get too great a start on the
+path to the happy hunting-grounds of your&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Here, a most unexpected interruption occurred, that effectually put a
+stop to the eloquence of Ungque.  In his desire to make an impression,
+the savage approached within reach of the captive's arm, while his own
+mind was intent on the words that he hoped would make the prisoner
+quail.  The corporal kept his eye on that of the speaker, charming him,
+as it were, into a riveted gaze, in return.  Watching his opportunity,
+he caught the tomahawk from the Weasel's belt, and by a single blow,
+felled him dead at his feet.  Not content with this, the old soldier
+now bounded forward, striking right and left, inflicting six or eight
+wounds on others, before he could be again arrested, disarmed, and
+bound.  While the last was doing, Peter withdrew, unobserved.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Many were the "hughs" and other exclamations of admiration that
+succeeded this display of desperate manhood!  The body of The Weasel
+was removed, and interred, while the wounded withdrew to attend to
+their hurts; leaving the arena to the rest assembled there.  As for the
+corporal, he was pretty well blown, and, in addition to being now bound
+hand and foot, his recent exertions, which were terrific while they
+lasted, effectually incapacitated him from making any move, so long as
+he was thus exhausted and confined.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A council was now held by the principal chiefs.  Ungque had few
+friends.  In this, he shared the fate of most demagogues, who are
+commonly despised even by those they lead and deceive.  No one
+regretted him much, and some were actually glad at his fate.  But the
+dignity of the conquerors must be vindicated.  It would never do to
+allow a pale-face to obtain so great an advantage, and not take a
+signal vengeance for his deeds.  After a long consultation, it was
+determined to subject the captive to the trial by saplings, and thus
+see if he could bear the torture without complaining.  As some of our
+readers may not understand what this fell mode of tormenting is, it may
+be necessary to explain.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There is scarcely a method of inflicting pain, that comes within the
+compass of their means, that the North American Indians have not
+essayed on their enemies.  When the infernal ingenuity that is
+exercised on these occasions fails of its effect, the captives
+themselves have been heard to suggest other means of torturing that
+<I>they</I> have known practised successfully by their own people.  There is
+often a strange strife between the tormentors and the tormented; the
+one to manifest skill in inflicting pain, and the other to manifest
+fortitude in enduring it.  As has just been said, quite as much renown
+is often acquired by the warrior, in setting all the devices of his
+conquerors at defiance, while subject to their hellish attempts, as in
+deeds of arms.  It might be more true to say that such <I>was</I> the
+practice among the Indians, than to say, at the present time, that such
+<I>is</I>; for it is certain that civilization in its approaches, while it
+has in many particulars even degraded the red man, has had a silent
+effect in changing and mitigating many of his fiercer customs&mdash;this,
+perhaps, among the rest.  It is probable that the more distant tribes
+still resort to all these ancient usages; but it is both hoped and
+believed that those nearer to the whites do not.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The "torture by saplings" is one of those modes of inflicting pain that
+would naturally suggest themselves to savages.  Young trees that do not
+stand far apart are trimmed of their branches, and brought nearer to
+each other by bending their bodies; the victim is then attached to both
+trunks, sometimes by his extended arms, at others by his legs, or by
+whatever part of the frame cruelty can suggest, when the saplings are
+released, and permitted to resume their upright positions.  Of course,
+the sufferer is lifted from the earth, and hangs suspended by his
+limbs, with a strain on them that soon produces the most intense
+anguish.  The celebrated punishment of the "knout" partakes a good deal
+of this same character of suffering.  Bough of the Oak now approached
+the corporal, to let him know how high an honor was in reserve for him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Brother," said this ambitious orator, "you are a brave warrior.  You
+have done well.  Not only have you killed one of our chiefs, but you
+have wounded several of our young men.  No one but a brave could have
+done this.  You have forced us to bind you, lest you might kill some
+more.  It is not often that captives do this.  Your courage has caused
+us to consult <I>how</I> we might best torture you, in a way most to
+manifest your manhood.  After talking together, the chiefs have decided
+that a man of your firmness ought to be hung between two young trees.
+We have found the trees, and have cut off their branches.  You can see
+them.  If they were a little larger their force would be greater, and
+they would give you more pain&mdash;would be more worthy of you; but these
+are the largest saplings we could find.  Had there been any larger, we
+would have let you have them.  We wish to do you honor, for you are a
+bold warrior, and worthy to be well tormented.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Brother, look at these saplings!  They are tall and straight.  When
+they are bent by many hands, they will come together.  Take away the
+hands, and they will become straight again.  Your arms must then keep
+them together.  We wish we had some pappooses here, that they might
+shoot arrows into your flesh.  That would help much to torment you.
+You cannot have this honor, for we have no pappooses.  We are afraid to
+let our young men shoot arrows into your flesh.  They are strong, and
+might kill you.  We wish you to die between the saplings, as is your
+right, being so great a brave.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Brother, we think much better of you since you killed The Weasel, and
+hurt our young men.  If all your warriors at Chicago had been as bold
+as you, Black-Bird would not have taken that fort.  You would have
+saved many scalps.  This encourages us.  It makes us think the Great
+Spirit means to help us, and that we shall kill all the pale-faces.
+When we get further into your settlements, we do not expect to meet
+many such braves as you.  They tell us we shall then find men who will
+run, and screech like women.  It will not be a pleasure to torment such
+men.  We had rather torment a bold warrior, like you, who makes us
+admire him for his manliness.  We love our squaws, but not in the
+war-path.  They are best in the lodges; here we want nothing but men.
+You are a man&mdash;a brave&mdash;we honor you.  We think, notwithstanding, we
+shall yet make you weak.  It will not be easy, yet we hope to do it.
+We shall try.  We may not think quite so well of you, if we do it; but
+we shall always call you a brave.  A man is not a stone.  We can all
+feel, and when we have done all that is in our power, no one can do
+more.  It is so with Injins; we think it must be so with pale-faces.
+We mean to try and see how it is."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The corporal understood very little of this harangue, though he
+perfectly comprehended the preparations of the saplings, and Bough of
+the Oak's allusions to <I>them</I>.  He was in a cold sweat at the thought,
+for resolute as he was, he foresaw sufferings that human fortitude
+could hardly endure.  In this state of the case, and in the frame of
+mind he was in, he had recourse to an expedient of which he had often
+heard, and which he thought might now be practised to some advantage.
+It was to open upon the savages with abuse, and to exasperate them, by
+taunts and sarcasm, to such a degree as might induce some of the weaker
+members of the tribe to dispatch him on the spot.  As the corporal,
+with the perspective of the saplings before his eyes, manifested a good
+deal of ingenuity on this occasion, we shall record some of his efforts.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"D'ye call yourselves chiefs and warriors?" he began, upon a pretty
+high key.  "I call ye squaws!  There is not a man among ye.  Dogs would
+be the best name.  You are poor Injins.  A long time ago, the
+pale-faces came here in two or three little canoes.  They were but a
+handful, and you were plentier than prairie wolves.  Your bark could be
+heard throughout the land.  Well, what did this handful of pale-faces?
+It drove your fathers before them, until they got all the best of the
+hunting-grounds.  Not an Injin of you all, now, ever get down on the
+shores of the great salt lake, unless to sell brooms and baskets, and
+then he goes sneaking like a wolf after a sheep.  You have forgotten
+how clams and oysters taste.  Your fathers had as many of them as they
+could eat; but not one of you ever tasted them.  The pale-faces eat
+them all.  If an Injun asked for one, they would throw the shell at his
+head, and call him a dog.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Do you think that my chiefs would hang one of you between two such
+miserable saplings as these?  No!  They would scorn to practice such
+pitiful torture.  They would bring the tops of two tall pines together,
+trees a hundred and fifty feet high, and put their prisoner on the
+topmost boughs, for the crows and ravens to pick his eyes out.  But you
+are miserable Injins!  You know nothing.  If you know'd any better,
+would you act such poor torment ag'in' a great brave?  I spit upon ye,
+and call you squaws.  The pale-faces have made women of ye.  They have
+taken out your hearts, and put pieces of dog's flesh in their places."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Here the corporal, who delivered himself with an animation suited to
+his language, was obliged to pause, literally for want of breath.
+Singular as it may seem, this tirade excited great admiration among the
+savages.  It is true, that very few understood what was said; perhaps
+no one understood <I>all</I>, but the manner was thought to be admirable.
+When some of the language was interpreted, a deep but smothered
+resentment was felt; more especially at the taunts touching the manner
+in which the whites had overcome the red men.  Truth is hard to be
+borne, and the individual, or people, who will treat a thousand
+injurious lies with contempt, feel all their ire aroused at one
+reproach that has its foundation in fact.  Nevertheless, the anger that
+the corporal's words did, in truth, awaken, was successfully repressed,
+and he had the disappointment of seeing that his life was spared for
+the torture.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Brother," said Bough of the Oak, again placing himself before the
+captive, "you have a stout heart.  It is made of stone, and not of
+flesh.  If our hearts be of dog's meat, yours is of stone.  What you
+say is true.  The pale-faces <I>did</I> come at first in two or three
+canoes, and there were but few of them.  We are ashamed, for it is
+true.  A few pale-faces drove toward the setting sun many Injins.  But
+we cannot be driven any further.  We mean to stop here, and begin to
+take all the scalps we can.  A great chief, who belongs to no one
+tribe, but belongs to all tribes, who speaks all tongues, has been sent
+by the Great Spirit to arouse us.  He has done it.  You know him.  He
+came from the head of the lake with you, and kept his eye on your
+scalp.  He has meant to take it from the first.  He waited only for an
+opportunity.  That opportunity has come, and we now mean to do as he
+has told us we ought to do.  This is right.  Squaws are in a hurry;
+warriors know how to wait.  We would kill you at once, and hang your
+scalp on our pole, but it would not be right.  We wish to do what is
+right.  If we <I>are</I> poor Injins, and know but little, we know what is
+right.  It is right to torment so great a brave, and we mean to do it.
+It is only just to you to do so.  An old warrior who has seen so many
+enemies, and who has so big a heart, ought not to be knocked in the
+head like a pappoose or a squaw.  It is his right to be tormented.  We
+are getting ready, and shall soon begin.  If my brother can tell us a
+new way of tormenting, we are willing to try it.  Should we not make
+out as well as pale-faces, my brother will remember who we are.  We
+mean to do our best, and we hope to make his heart soft.  If we do
+this, great will be our honor.  Should we not do it, we cannot help it.
+We shall try."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was now the corporal's turn to put in a rebutter.  This he did
+without any failure in will or performance.  By this time he was so
+well warmed as to think or care very little about the saplings, and to
+overlook the pain they might occasion.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dogs can do little but bark; 'specially Injin dogs," he said.  "Injins
+themselves are little better than their own dogs.  They can bark, but
+they don't know how to bite.  You have many great chiefs here.  Some
+are panthers, and some bears, and some buffaloes; but where are your
+weasels?  I have fit you now these twenty years, and never have I known
+ye to stand up to the baggonet.  It's not Injin natur' to do <I>that</I>."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Here the corporal, without knowing it, made some such reproach to the
+aboriginal warriors of America as the English used to throw into the
+teeth of ourselves&mdash;that of not standing up to a weapon which neither
+party possessed.  It was matter of great triumph that the Americans
+would not stand the charge of the bayonet at the renowned fight on
+Breed's, for instance, when it is well known that not one man in five
+among the colonists had any such weapon at all to "stand up" with.  A
+different story was told at Guildford, and Stony Point, and Eutaw, and
+Bennington, and Bemis' Heights, and fifty other places that might be
+named, after the troops were furnished with bayonets.  <I>Then</I> it was
+found that the Americans could use them as well as others, and so might
+it have proved with the red men, though their discipline, or mode of
+fighting, scarce admitted of such systematic charges.  All this,
+however, the corporal overlooked, much as if he were a regular
+historian who was writing to make out a case.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Harkee, brother, since you <I>will</I> call me brother; though, Heaven be
+praised, not a drop of nigger or Injin blood runs in <I>my</I> veins,"
+resumed the corporal.  "Harken, friend redskin, answer me one thing.
+Did you ever hear of such a man as Mad Anthony?  He was the tickler for
+your infernal tribes!  You pulled no saplings together for him.  He put
+you up with 'the long-knives and leather-stockings,' and you outrun his
+fleetest horses.  I was with him, and saw more naked backs than naked
+faces among your people, that day.  Your Great Bear got a rap on his
+nose that sent him to his village yelping like a cur."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Again was the corporal compelled to stop to take breath.  The allusion
+to Wayne, and his defeat of the Indians, excited so much ire, that
+several hands grasped knives and tomahawks, and one arrow was actually
+drawn nearly to the head; but the frown of Bear's Meat prevented any
+outbreak, or actual violence.  It was deemed prudent, however, to put
+an end to this scene, lest the straightforward corporal, who laid it on
+heavily, and who had so much to say about Indian defeats, might
+actually succeed in touching some festering wound that would bring him
+to his death at once.  It was, accordingly, determined to proceed with
+the torture of the saplings without further delay.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The corporal was removed accordingly, and placed between the two bended
+trees, which were kept together by withes around their tops.  An arm of
+the captive was bound tightly at the wrist to the top of each tree, so
+that his limbs were to act as the only tie between the saplings, as
+soon as the withes should be cut.  The Indians now worked in silence,
+and the matter was getting to be much too serious for the corporal to
+indulge in any more words.  The cold sweat returned, and many an
+anxious glance was cast by the veteran on the fell preparations.  Still
+he maintained appearances, and when all was ready, not a man there was
+aware of the agony of dread which prevailed in the breast of the
+victim.  It was not death that he feared as much as suffering.  A few
+minutes, the corporal well knew, would make the pain intolerable, while
+he saw no hope of putting a speedy end to his existence.  A man might
+live hours in such a situation.  Then it was that the teachings of
+childhood were revived in the bosom of this hardened man, and he
+remembered the Being that died for <I>him</I>, in common with the rest of
+the human race, on the tree.  The seeming similarity of his own
+execution struck his imagination, and brought a tardy but faint
+recollection of those lessons that had lost most of their efficacy in
+the wickedness and impiety of camps.  His soul struggled for relief in
+that direction, but the present scene was too absorbing to admit of its
+lifting itself so far above his humanity.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Warrior of the pale-faces," said Bough of the Oak, "we are going to
+cut the withe.  You will then be where a brave man will want all his
+courage.  If you are firm, we will do you honor; if you faint and
+screech, our young men will laugh at you.  This is the way with Injins.
+They honor braves; they point the finger at cowards."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Here a sign was made by Bear's Meat, and a warrior raised the tomahawk
+that was to separate the fastenings.  His hand was in the very act of
+descending, when the crack of a rifle was heard, and a little smoke
+rose out of the thicket, near the spot where the bee-hunter and the
+corporal, himself, had remained so long hid, on the occasion of the
+council first held in that place.  The tomahawk fell, however, the
+withes were parted, and up flew the saplings, with a violence that
+threatened to tear the arms of the victim out of their sockets.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Indians listened, expecting the screeches and groans;&mdash;they gazed,
+hoping to witness the writhings of their captive.  But they were
+disappointed.  There hung the body, its arms distended, still holding
+the tops of the saplings bowed, but not a sign of life was seen.  A
+small line of blood trickled down the forehead, and above it was the
+nearly imperceptible hole made by the passage of a bullet.  The head
+itself had fallen forward, and a little on one shoulder.  The corporal
+had escaped the torments reserved for him, by this friendly blow.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap05"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+UNCLE JIM AND UNCLE BILLY
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By BRET HARTE
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+From "Stories in Light and Shadow."  Copyright 1888 and 1889 by Bret
+Harte.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+They were partners.  The avuncular title was bestowed on them by Cedar
+Camp, possibly in recognition of a certain matured good humor, quite
+distinct from the spasmodic exuberant spirits of its other members, and
+possibly from what, to its youthful sense, seemed their advanced
+ages&mdash;which must have been at least forty!  They had also set habits
+even in their improvidence, lost incalculable and unpayable sums to
+each other over euchre regularly every evening, and inspected their
+sluice-boxes punctually every Saturday for repairs&mdash;which they never
+made.  They even got to resemble each other, after the fashion of old
+married couples, or, rather, as in matrimonial partnerships, were
+subject to the domination of the stronger character; although in their
+case it is to be feared that it was the feminine Uncle
+Billy&mdash;enthusiastic, imaginative, and loquacious&mdash;who swayed the
+masculine, steady-going, and practical Uncle Jim.  They had lived in
+the camp since its foundation in 1849; there seemed to be no reason why
+they should not remain there until its inevitable evolution into a
+mining-town.  The younger members might leave through restless ambition
+or a desire for change or novelty; they were subject to no such
+trifling mutation.  Yet Cedar Camp was surprised one day to hear that
+Uncle Billy was going away.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The rain was softly falling on the bark thatch of the cabin with a
+muffled murmur, like a sound heard through sleep.  The southwest trades
+were warm even at that altitude, as the open door testified, although a
+fire of pine bark was flickering on the adobe hearth and striking out
+answering fires from the freshly scoured culinary utensils on the rude
+sideboard, which Uncle Jim had cleaned that morning with his usual
+serious persistency.  Their best clothes, which were interchangeable
+and worn alternately by each other on festal occasions, hung on the
+walls, which were covered with a coarse sailcloth canvas instead of
+lath-and-plaster, and were diversified by pictures from illustrated
+papers and stains from the exterior weather.  Two "bunks," like ships'
+berths,&mdash;an upper and lower one,&mdash;occupied the gable-end of this single
+apartment, and on beds of coarse sacking, filled with dry moss, were
+carefully rolled their respective blankets and pillows.  They were the
+only articles not used in common, and whose individuality was respected.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Jim, who had been sitting before the fire, rose as the square
+bulk of his partner appeared at the doorway with an armful of wood for
+the evening stove.  By that sign he knew it was nine o'clock: for the
+last six years Uncle Billy had regularly brought in the wood at that
+hour, and Uncle Jim had as regularly closed the door after him, and set
+out their single table, containing a greasy pack of cards taken from
+its drawer, a bottle of whiskey, and two tin drinking-cups.  To this
+was added a ragged memorandum-book and a stick of pencil.  The two men
+drew their stools to the table.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hol' on a minit," said Uncle Billy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His partner laid down the cards as Uncle Billy extracted from his
+pocket a pill-box, and, opening it, gravely took a pill.  This was
+clearly an innovation on their regular proceedings, for Uncle Billy was
+always in perfect health.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What's this for?" asked Uncle Jim half scornfully.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Agin ager."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You ain't got no ager," said Uncle Jim, with the assurance of intimate
+cognizance of his partner's physical condition.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But it's a pow'ful preventive!  Quinine!  Saw this box at Riley's
+store, and laid out a quarter on it.  We kin keep it here, comfortable,
+for evenings.  It's mighty soothin' arter a man's done a hard day's
+work on the river-bar.  Take one."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Jim gravely took a pill and swallowed it, and handed the box back
+to his partner.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We'll leave it on the table, sociable like, in case any of the boys
+come in," said Uncle Billy, taking up the cards.  "Well.  How de we
+stand?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Jim consulted the memorandum-book.  "You were owin' me sixty-two
+thousand dollars on the last game, and the limit's seventy-five
+thousand!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Je whillikins!" ejaculated Uncle Billy.  "Let me see."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He examined the book, feebly attempted to challenge the additions, but
+with no effect on the total.  "We oughter hev made the limit a hundred
+thousand," he said seriously; "seventy-five thousand is only triflin'
+in a game like ours.  And you've set down my claim at Angel's?" he
+continued.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I allowed you ten thousand dollars for that," said Uncle Jim, with
+equal gravity, "and it's a fancy price too."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The claim in question being an unprospected hillside ten miles distant,
+which Uncle Jim had never seen, and Uncle Billy had not visited for
+years, the statement was probably true; nevertheless, Uncle Billy
+retorted:&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ye kin never tell how these things will pan out.  Why, only this
+mornin' I was taking a turn round Shot Up Hill, that ye know is just
+rotten with quartz and gold, and I couldn't help thinkin' how much it
+was like my ole claim at Angel's.  I must take a day off to go on there
+and strike a pick in it, if only for luck."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Suddenly he paused and said, "Strange, ain't it, you should speak of it
+to-night?  Now I call that queer!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He laid down his cards and gazed mysteriously at his companion.  Uncle
+Jim knew perfectly that Uncle Billy had regularly once a week for many
+years declared his final determination to go over to Angel's and
+prospect his claim, yet nevertheless he half responded to his partner's
+suggestion of mystery, and a look of fatuous wonder crept into his
+eyes.  But he contented himself by saying cautiously, "You spoke of it
+first."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That's the more sing'lar," said Uncle Billy confidently.  "And I've
+been thinking about it, and kinder seeing myself thar all day.  It's
+mighty queer!"  He got up and began to rummage among some torn and
+coverless books in the corner.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Where's that 'Dream Book' gone to?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The Carson boys borrowed it," replied Uncle Jim.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Anyhow, yours wasn't no dream&mdash;only a kind o' vision, and the book
+don't take no stock in visions."  Nevertheless, he watched his partner
+with some sympathy, and added, "That reminds me that I had a dream the
+other night of being in 'Frisco at a small hotel, with heaps o' money,
+and all the time being sort o' scared and bewildered over it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No?" queried his partner eagerly yet reproachfully.  "You never let on
+anything about it to <I>me</I>!  It's mighty queer you havin' these strange
+feelin's, for I've had 'em myself.  And only to-night, comin' up from
+the spring, I saw two crows hopping in the trail, and I says, 'If I see
+another, it's luck, sure!'  And you'll think I'm lyin', but when I went
+to the wood-pile just now there was the <I>third</I> one sittin' up on a log
+as plain as I see you.  Tell 'e what folks ken laugh&mdash;but that's just
+what Jim Filgee saw the night before he made the big strike!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They were both smiling, yet with an underlying credulity and
+seriousness as singularly pathetic as it seemed incongruous to their
+years and intelligence.  Small wonder, however, that in their
+occupation and environment&mdash;living daily in an atmosphere of hope,
+expectation, and chance, looking forward each morning to the blind
+stroke of a pick that might bring fortune&mdash;they should see signs in
+nature and hear mystic voices in the trackless woods that surrounded
+them.  Still less strange that they were peculiarly susceptible to the
+more recognized diversions of chance, and were gamblers on the turning
+of a card who trusted to the revelation of a shovelful of upturned
+earth.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was quite natural, therefore, that they should return from their
+abstract form of divination to the table and their cards.  But they
+were scarcely seated before they heard a crackling step in the brush
+outside, and the free latch of their door was lifted.  A younger member
+of the camp entered.  He uttered a peevish "Halloo!" which might have
+passed for a greeting, or might have been a slight protest at finding
+the door closed, drew the stool from which Uncle Jim had just risen
+before the fire, shook his wet clothes like a Newfoundland dog, and sat
+down.  Yet he was by no means churlish nor coarse-looking, and this act
+was rather one of easy-going, selfish, youthful familiarity than of
+rudeness.  The cabin of Uncles Billy and Jim was considered a public
+right or "common" of the camp.  Conferences between individual miners
+were appointed there.  "I'll meet you at Uncle Billy's" was a common
+tryst.  Added to this was a tacit claim upon the partners' arbitrative
+powers, or the equal right to request them to step outside if the
+interviews were of a private nature.  Yet there was never any objection
+on the part of the partners, and to-night there was not a shadow of
+resentment of this intrusion in the patient, good-humored, tolerant
+eyes of Uncles Jim and Billy as they gazed at their guest.  Perhaps
+there was a slight gleam of relief in Uncle Jim's when he found that
+the guest was unaccompanied by any one, and that it was not a tryst.
+It would have been unpleasant for the two partners to have stayed out
+in the rain while their guests were exchanging private confidences in
+their cabin.  While there might have been no limit to their good will,
+there might have been some to their capacity for exposure.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Jim drew a huge log from beside the hearth and sat on the driest
+end of it, while their guest occupied the stool.  The young man,
+without turning away from his discontented, peevish brooding over the
+fire, vaguely reached backward for the whiskey-bottle and Uncle Billy's
+tin cup, to which he was assisted by the latter's hospitable hand.  But
+on setting down the cup his eye caught sight of the pill-box.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Wot's that?" he said, with gloomy scorn.  "Rat poison?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Quinine pills&mdash;agin ager," said Uncle Jim.  "The newest thing out.
+Keeps out damp like Injin-rubber!  Take one to follow yer whiskey.  Me
+and Uncle Billy wouldn't think o' settin' down, quiet like, in the
+evening arter work, without 'em.  Take one&mdash;ye'r welcome!  We keep 'em
+out here for the boys."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Accustomed as the partners were to adopt and wear each other's opinions
+before folks, as they did each other's clothing, Uncle Billy was,
+nevertheless, astonished and delighted at Uncle Jim's enthusiasm over
+<I>his</I> pills.  The guest took one and swallowed it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mighty bitter!" he said, glancing at his hosts with the quick
+Californian suspicion of some practical joke.  But the honest faces of
+the partners reassured him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That bitterness ye taste," said Uncle Jim quickly, "is whar the
+thing's gittin' in its work.  Sorter sickenin' the malaria&mdash;and kinder
+water-proofin' the insides all to onct and at the same lick!  Don't yer
+see?  Put another in yer vest pocket; you'll be cryin' for 'em like a
+child afore ye get home.  Thar!  Well, how's things agoin' on your
+claim, Dick?  Boomin', eh?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The guest raised his head and turned it sufficiently to fling his
+answer back over his shoulder at his hosts.  "I don't know what <I>you'd</I>
+call 'boomin','" he said gloomily; "I suppose you two men sitting here
+comfortably by the fire, without caring whether school keeps or not,
+would call two feet of backwater over one's claim 'boomin';' I reckon
+<I>you'd</I> consider a hundred and fifty feet of sluicing carried away, and
+drifting to thunder down the South Fork, something in the way of
+advertising to your old camp!  I suppose <I>you'd</I> think it was an
+inducement to investors!  I shouldn't wonder," he added still more
+gloomily, as a sudden dash of rain down the wide-throated chimney
+dropped in his tin cup&mdash;"and it would be just like you two chaps,
+sittin' there gormandizing over your quinine&mdash;if yer said this rain
+that's lasted three weeks was something to be proud of!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was the cheerful and the satisfying custom of the rest of the camp,
+for no reason whatever, to hold Uncle Jim and Uncle Billy responsible
+for its present location, its vicissitudes, the weather, or any
+convulsion of nature; and it was equally the partners' habit, for no
+reason whatever, to accept these animadversions and apologize.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's a rain that's soft and mellowin'," said Uncle Billy gently, "and
+supplin' to the sinews and muscles.  Did ye ever notice,
+Jim"&mdash;ostentatiously to his partner&mdash;"did ye ever notice that you get
+inter a kind o' sweaty lather workin' in it?  Sorter openin' to the
+pores!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Fetches 'em every time," said Uncle Billy.  "Better nor fancy soap."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Their guest laughed bitterly.  "Well, I'm going to leave it to you.  I
+reckon to cut the whole concern to-morrow, and 'lite' out for something
+new.  It can't be worse than this."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The two partners looked grieved, albeit they were accustomed to these
+outbursts.  Everybody who thought of going away from Cedar Camp used it
+first as a threat to these patient men, after the fashion of runaway
+nephews, or made an exemplary scene of their going.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Better think twice afore ye go," said Uncle Billy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I've seen worse weather afore ye came," said Uncle Jim slowly.  "Water
+all over the Bar; the mud so deep ye couldn't get to Angel's for a sack
+o' flour, and we had to grub on pine nuts and jackass-rabbits.  And
+yet&mdash;we stuck by the camp, and here we are!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The mild answer apparently goaded their guest to fury.  He rose from
+his seat, threw back his long dripping hair from his handsome but
+querulous face, and scattered a few drops on the partners.  "Yes,
+that's just it.  That's what gets me!  Here you stick, and here you
+are!  And here you'll stick and rust until you starve or drown!  Here
+you are,&mdash;two men who ought to be out in the world, playing your part
+as grown men,&mdash;-stuck here like children 'playing house' in the woods;
+playing work in your wretched mud-pie ditches, and content.  Two men
+not so old that you mightn't be taking your part in the fun of the
+world, going to balls or theatres, or paying attention to girls, and
+yet old enough to have married and have your families around you,
+content to stay in this God-forsaken place; old bachelors, pigging
+together like poor-house paupers.  That's what gets me!  Say you like
+<I>it</I>?  Say you expect by hanging on to make a strike&mdash;and what does
+that amount to?  What are <I>your</I> chances?  How many of us have made, or
+are making, more than grub wages?  Say you're willing to share and
+share alike as you do&mdash;have you got enough for two?  Aren't you
+actually living off each other?  Aren't you grinding each other down,
+choking each other's struggles, as you sink together deeper and deeper
+in the mud of this cussed camp?  And while you're doing this, aren't
+you, by your age and position here, holding out hopes to others that
+you know cannot be fulfilled?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Accustomed as they were to the half-querulous, half-humorous, but
+always extravagant, criticism of the others, there was something so new
+in this arraignment of themselves that the partners for a moment sat
+silent.  There was a slight flush on Uncle Billy's cheek, there was a
+slight paleness on Uncle Jim's.  He was the first to reply.  But he did
+so with a certain dignity which neither his partner nor their guest had
+ever seen on his face before.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"As it's <I>our</I> fire that's warmed ye up like this, Dick Bullen," he
+said, slowly rising, with his hand resting on Uncle Billy's shoulder,
+"and as it's <I>our</I> whiskey that's loosened your tongue, I reckon we
+must put up with what ye'r' saying, just as we've managed to put up
+with our own way o' living, and not quo'll with ye under our own roof."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The young fellow saw the change in Uncle Jim's face and quickly
+extended his hand, with an apologetic backward shake of his long hair.
+"Hang it all, old man," he said, with a laugh of mingled contrition and
+amusement, "you mustn't mind what I said just now.  I've been so
+worried thinking of things about <I>myself</I> and, maybe, a little about
+you, that I quite forgot I hadn't a call to preach to anybody&mdash;least of
+all to you.  So we part friends, Uncle Jim, and you too, Uncle Billy,
+and you'll forget what I said.  In fact, I don't know why I spoke at
+all&mdash;only I was passing your claim just now, and wondering how much
+longer your old sluice-boxes would hold out, and where in thunder you'd
+get others when they caved in!  I reckon that sent me off.  That's all,
+old chap!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Billy's face broke into a beaming smile of relief, and it was his
+hand that first grasped his guest's; Uncle Jim quickly followed with as
+honest a pressure, but with eyes that did not seem to be looking at
+Bullen, though all trace of resentment had died out of them.  He walked
+to the door with him, again shook hands, but remained looking out in
+the darkness some time after Dick Bullen's tangled hair and broad
+shoulders had disappeared.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Meantime, Uncle Billy had resumed his seat and was chuckling and
+reminiscent as he cleaned out his pipe.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Kinder reminds me of Jo Sharp, when he was cleaned out at poker by his
+own partners in his own cabin, comin' up here and bedevilin' us about
+it!  What was it you lint him?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But Uncle Jim did not reply; and Uncle Billy, taking up the cards,
+began to shuffle them, smiling vaguely, yet at the same time somewhat
+painfully.  "Arter all, Dick was mighty cut up about what he said, and
+I felt kinder sorry for him.  And, you know, I rather cotton to a man
+that speaks his mind.  Sorter clears him out, you know, of all the
+slumgullion that's in him.  It's just like washin' out a pan o'
+prospecting: you pour in the water, and keep slushing it round and
+round, and out comes first the mud and dirt, and then the gravel, and
+then the black sand, and then&mdash;it's all out, and there's a speck o'
+gold glistenin' at the bottom!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then you think there <I>was</I> suthin' in what he said?" said Uncle Jim,
+facing about slowly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+An odd tone in his voice made Uncle Billy look up.  "No," he said
+quickly, shying with the instinct of an easy pleasure-loving nature
+from a possible grave situation.  "No, I don't think he ever got the
+color!  But wot are ye moonin' about for?  Ain't ye goin' to play?
+It's mor' 'n half past nine now."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thus adjured, Uncle Jim moved up to the table and sat down, while Uncle
+Billy dealt the cards, turning up the Jack or right bower&mdash;but
+<I>without</I> that exclamation of delight which always accompanied his good
+fortune, nor did Uncle Jim respond with the usual corresponding
+simulation of deep disgust.  Such a circumstance had not occurred
+before in the history of their partnership.  They both played in
+silence&mdash;a silence only interrupted by a larger splash of raindrops
+down the chimney.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We orter put a couple of stones on the chimney-top, edgewise, like
+Jack Curtis does.  It keeps out the rain without interferin' with the
+draft," said Uncle Billy musingly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What's the use if"&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If what?" said Uncle Billy quietly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If we don't make it broader," said Uncle Jim half wearily.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They both stared at the chimney, but Uncle Jim's eye followed the wall
+around to the bunks.  There were many discolorations on the canvas, and
+a picture of the Goddess of Liberty from an illustrated paper had
+broken out in a kind of damp, measly eruption.  "I'll stick that funny
+handbill of the 'Washin' Soda' I got at the grocery store the other day
+right over the Liberty gal.  It's a mighty perty woman washin' with
+short sleeves," said Uncle Billy.  "That's the comfort of them picters,
+you kin always get somethin' new, and it adds thickness to the wall."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Jim went back to the cards in silence.  After a moment he rose
+again, and hung his overcoat against the door.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Wind's comin' in," he said briefly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," said Uncle Billy cheerfully, "but it wouldn't seem nat'ral if
+there wasn't that crack in the door to let the sunlight in o' mornin's.
+Makes a kind o' sundial, you know.  When the streak o' light's in that
+corner, I says 'six o'clock!' when it's across the chimney I say
+'seven!' and so 'tis!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It certainly had grown chilly, and the wind was rising.  The candle
+guttered and flickered; the embers on the hearth brightened
+occasionally, as if trying to dispel the gathering shadows, but always
+ineffectually.  The game was frequently interrupted by the necessity of
+stirring the fire.  After an interval of gloom, in which each partner
+successively drew the candle to his side to examine his cards, Uncle
+Jim said:&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Say?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well!" responded Uncle Billy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Are you sure you saw that third crow on the wood-pile?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Sure as I see you now&mdash;and a darned sight plainer.  Why?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Nothin', I was just thinkin'.  Look here!  How do we stand now?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Billy was still losing.  "Nevertheless," he said cheerfully, "I'm
+owin' you a matter of sixty thousand dollars."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Jim examined the book abstractedly.  "Suppose," he said slowly,
+but without looking at his partner, "suppose, as it's gettin' late now,
+we play for my half share of the claim agin the limit&mdash;seventy
+thousand&mdash;to square up."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Your half share!" repeated Uncle Billy, with amused incredulity.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"My half share of the claim,&mdash;of this yer house, you know,&mdash;one-half of
+all that Dick Bullen calls our rotten starvation property," reiterated
+Uncle Jim, with a half smile.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Billy laughed.  It was a novel idea; it was, of course, "all in
+the air," like the rest of their game, yet even then he had an odd
+feeling that he would have liked Dick Bullen to have known it.  "Wade
+in, old pard," he said.  "I'm on it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Jim lit another candle to reinforce the fading light, and the
+deal fell to Uncle Billy.  He turned up Jack of clubs.  He also turned
+a little redder as he took up his cards, looked at them, and glanced
+hastily at his partner.  "It's no use playing," he said.  "Look here!"
+He laid down his cards on the table.  They were the ace, king and queen
+of clubs, and Jack of spades,&mdash;or left bower,&mdash;which, with the
+turned-up Jack of clubs,&mdash;or right bower,&mdash;comprised all the winning
+cards!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"By jingo!  If we'd been playin' fourhanded, say you an' me agin some
+other ducks, we'd have made 'four' in that deal, and h'isted some
+money&mdash;eh?" and his eyes sparkled.  Uncle Jim, also, had a slight
+tremulous light in his own.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh no!  I didn't see no three crows this afternoon," added Uncle Billy
+gleefully, as his partner, in turn, began to shuffle the cards with
+laborious and conscientious exactitude.  Then dealing, he turned up a
+heart for trumps.  Uncle Billy took up his cards one by one, but when
+he had finished his face had become as pale as it had been red before.
+"What's the matter?" said Uncle Jim quickly, his own face growing white.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Billy slowly and with breathless awe laid down his cards, face up
+on the table.  It was exactly the same sequence <I>in hearts</I>, with the
+knave of diamonds added.  He could again take every trick.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They stared at each other with vacant faces and a half-drawn smile of
+fear.  They could hear the wind moaning in the trees beyond; there was
+a sudden rattling at the door.  Uncle Billy started to his feet, but
+Uncle Jim caught his arm.  "<I>Don't leave the cards</I>!  It's only the
+wind; sit down," he said in a low awe-hushed voice, "it's your deal;
+you were two before, and two now, that makes you four; you've only one
+point to make to win the game.  Go on."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They both poured out a cup of whiskey, smiling vaguely, yet with a
+certain terror in their eyes.  Their hands were cold; the cards slipped
+from Uncle Billy's benumbed fingers; when he had shuffled them he
+passed them to his partner to shuffle them also, but did not speak.
+When Uncle Jim had shuffled them methodically he handed them back
+fatefully to his partner.  Uncle Billy dealt them with a trembling
+hand.  He turned up a club.  "If you are sure of these tricks you know
+you've won," said Uncle Jim in a voice that was scarcely audible.
+Uncle Billy did not reply, but tremulously laid down the ace and right
+and left bowers.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had won!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A feeling of relief came over each, and they laughed hysterically and
+discordantly.  Ridiculous and childish as their contest might have
+seemed to a looker-on, to each the tension had been as great as that of
+the greatest gambler, without the gambler's trained restraint,
+coolness, and composure.  Uncle Billy nervously took up the cards again.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Don't," said Uncle Jim gravely; "it's no use&mdash;the luck's gone now."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Just one more deal," pleaded his partner.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Jim looked at the fire, Uncle Billy hastily dealt, and threw the
+two hands face up on the table.  They were the ordinary average cards.
+He dealt again, with the same result.  "I told you so," said Uncle Jim,
+without looking up.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It certainly seemed a tame performance after their wonderful hands, and
+after another trial Uncle Billy threw the cards aside and drew his
+stool before the fire.  "Mighty queer, warn't it?" he said, with
+reminiscent awe.  "Three times running.  Do you know, I felt a kind o'
+creepy feelin' down my back all the time.  Criky! what luck!  None of
+the boys would believe it if we told 'em&mdash;least of all that Dick
+Bullen, who don't believe in luck, anyway.  Wonder what he'd have said!
+and, Lord! how he'd have looked!  Wall! what are you starin' so for?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Jim had faced around, and was gazing at Uncle Billy's
+good-humored, simple face.  "Nothin'!" he said briefly, and his eyes
+again sought the fire.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then don't look as if you was seein' suthin'&mdash;you give me the creeps,"
+returned Uncle Billy a little petulantly.  "Let's turn in, afore the
+fire goes out!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The fateful cards were put back into the drawer, the table shoved
+against the wall.  The operation of undressing was quickly got over,
+the clothes they wore being put on top of their blankets.  Uncle Billy
+yawned, "I wonder what kind of a dream I'll have to-night&mdash;it oughter
+be suthin' to explain that luck."  This was his "good-night" to his
+partner.  In a few moments he was sound asleep.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Not so Uncle Jim.  He heard the wind gradually go down, and in the
+oppressive silence that followed could detect the deep breathing of his
+companion and the far-off yelp of a coyote.  His eyesight becoming
+accustomed to the semi-darkness, broken only by the scintillation of
+the dying embers of their fire, he could take in every detail of their
+sordid cabin and the rude environment in which they had lived so long.
+The dismal patches on the bark roof, the wretched makeshifts of each
+day, the dreary prolongation of discomfort, were all plain to him now,
+without the sanguine hope that had made them bearable.  And when he
+shut his eyes upon them, it was only to travel in fancy down the steep
+mountain side that he had trodden so often to the dreary claim on the
+overflowed river, to the heaps of "tailings" that encumbered it, like
+empty shells of the hollow, profitless days spent there, which they
+were always waiting for the stroke of good fortune to clear away.  He
+saw again the rotten "sluicing," through whose hopeless rifts and holes
+even their scant daily earnings had become scantier.  At last he arose,
+and with infinite gentleness let himself down from his berth without
+disturbing his sleeping partner, and wrapping himself in his blanket,
+went to the door, which he noiselessly opened.  From the position of a
+few stars that were glittering in the northern sky he knew that it was
+yet scarcely midnight; there were still long, restless hours before the
+day!  In the feverish state into which he had gradually worked himself
+it seemed to him impossible to wait the coming of the dawn.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But he was mistaken.  For even as he stood there all nature seemed to
+invade his humble cabin with its free and fragrant breath, and invest
+him with its great companionship.  He felt again, in that breath, that
+strange sense of freedom, that mystic touch of partnership with the
+birds and beasts, the shrubs and trees, in this greater home before
+him.  It was this vague communion that had kept him there, that still
+held these world-sick, weary workers in their rude cabins on the slopes
+around him; and he felt upon his brow that balm that had nightly lulled
+him and them to sleep and forgetfulness.  He closed the door, turned
+away, crept as noiselessly as before into his bunk again, and presently
+fell into a profound slumber.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But when Uncle Billy awoke the next morning he saw it was late; for the
+sun, piercing the crack of the closed door, was sending a pencil of
+light across the cold hearth, like a match to rekindle its dead embers.
+His first thought was of his strange luck the night before, and of
+disappointment that he had not had the dream of divination that he had
+looked for.  He sprang to the floor, but as he stood upright his glance
+fell on Uncle Jim's bunk.  It was empty.  Not only that, but his
+<I>blankets</I>&mdash;Uncle Jim's own particular blankets&mdash;<I>were gone</I>!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A sudden revelation of his partner's manner the night before struck him
+now with the cruelty of a blow; a sudden intelligence, perhaps the very
+divination he had sought, flashed upon him like lightning!  He glanced
+wildly around the cabin.  The table was drawn out from the wall a
+little ostentatiously, as if to catch his eye.  On it was lying the
+stained chamois-skin purse in which they had kept the few grains of
+gold remaining from their last week's "clean up."  The grains had been
+carefully divided, and half had been taken!  But near it lay the little
+memorandum-book, open, with the stick of pencil lying across it.  A
+deep line was drawn across the page on which was recorded their
+imaginary extravagant gains and losses, even to the entry of Uncle
+Jim's half share of the claim which he had risked and lost!  Underneath
+were hurriedly scrawled the words:&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Settled by <I>your</I> luck, last night, old pard.&mdash;James Foster."
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+It was nearly a month before Cedar Camp was convinced that Uncle Billy
+and Uncle Jim had dissolved partnership.  Pride had prevented Uncle
+Billy from revealing his suspicions of the truth, or of relating the
+events that preceded Uncle Jim's clandestine flight, and Dick Bullen
+had gone to Sacramento by stage-coach the same morning.  He briefly
+gave out that his partner had been called to San Francisco on important
+business of their own, that indeed might necessitate his own removal
+there later.  In this he was singularly assisted by a letter from the
+absent Jim, dated at San Francisco, begging him not to be anxious about
+his success, as he had hopes of presently entering a profitable
+business, but with no further allusions to his precipitate departure,
+nor any suggestion of a reason for it.  For two or three days Uncle
+Billy was staggered and bewildered; in his profound simplicity he
+wondered if his extraordinary good fortune that night had made him deaf
+to some explanation of his partner's, or, more terrible, if he had
+shown some "low" and incredible intimation of taking his partner's
+extravagant bet as real and binding.  In this distress he wrote to
+Uncle Jim an appealing and apologetic letter, albeit somewhat
+incoherent and inaccurate, and bristling with misspelling, camp slang,
+and old partnership jibes.  But to this elaborate epistle he received
+only Uncle Jim's repeated assurances of his own bright prospects, and
+his hopes that his old partner would be more fortunate, single-handed,
+on the old claim.  For a whole week or two Uncle Billy sulked, but his
+invincible optimism and good humor got the better of him, and he
+thought only of his old partner's good fortune.  He wrote him
+regularly, but always to one address&mdash;a box at the San Francisco
+post-office, which to the simple-minded Uncle Billy suggested a certain
+official importance.  To these letters Uncle Jim responded regularly
+but briefly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+From a certain intuitive pride in his partner and his affection, Uncle
+Billy did not show these letters openly to the camp, although he spoke
+freely of his former partner's promising future, and even read them
+short extracts.  It is needless to say that the camp did not accept
+Uncle Billy's story with unsuspecting confidence.  On the contrary, a
+hundred surmises, humorous or serious, but always extravagant, were
+afloat in Cedar Camp.  The partners had quarreled over their
+clothes&mdash;Uncle Jim, who was taller than Uncle Billy, had refused to
+wear his partner's trousers.  They had quarreled over cards&mdash;Uncle Jim
+had discovered that Uncle Billy was in possession of a "cold deck," or
+marked pack.  They had quarreled over Uncle Billy's carelessness in
+grinding up half a box of "bilious pills" in the morning's coffee.  A
+gloomily imaginative mule-driver had darkly suggested that, as no one
+had really seen Uncle Jim leave the camp, he was still there, and his
+bones would yet be found in one of the ditches; while a still more
+credulous miner averred that what he had thought was the cry of a
+screech-owl the night previous to Uncle Jim's disappearance, might have
+been the agonized utterance of that murdered man.  It was highly
+characteristic of that camp&mdash;and, indeed, of others in California&mdash;that
+nobody, not even the ingenious theorists themselves, believed their
+story, and that no one took the slightest pains to verify or disprove
+it.  Happily, Uncle Billy never knew it, and moved all unconsciously in
+this atmosphere of burlesque suspicion.  And then a singular change
+took place in the attitude of the camp towards him and the disrupted
+partnership.  Hitherto, for no reason whatever, all had agreed to put
+the blame upon Billy&mdash;possibly because he was present to receive it.
+As days passed that slight reticence and dejection in his manner, which
+they had at first attributed to remorse and a guilty conscience, now
+began to tell as absurdly in his favor.  Here was poor Uncle Billy
+toiling through the ditches, while his selfish partner was lolling in
+the lap of luxury in San Francisco!  Uncle Billy's glowing accounts of
+Uncle Jim's success only contributed to the sympathy now fully given in
+his behalf and their execration of the absconding partner.  It was
+proposed at Bigg's store that a letter expressing the indignation of
+the camp over his heartless conduct to his late partner, William Fall,
+should be forwarded to him.  Condolences were offered to Uncle Billy,
+and uncouth attempts were made to cheer his loneliness.  A procession
+of half a dozen men twice a week to his cabin, carrying their own
+whiskey and winding up with a "stag dance" before the premises, was
+sufficient to lighten his eclipsed gayety and remind him of a happier
+past.  "Surprise" working parties visited his claim with spasmodic
+essays towards helping him, and great good humor and hilarity
+prevailed.  It was not an unusual thing for an honest miner to arise
+from an idle gathering in some cabin and excuse himself with the remark
+that he "reckoned he'd put in an hour's work in Uncle Billy's
+tailings!"  And yet, as before, it was very improbable if any of these
+reckless benefactors <I>really</I> believed in their own earnestness or in
+the gravity of the situation.  Indeed, a kind of hopeful cynicism ran
+through their performances.  "Like as not, Uncle Billy is still in
+'cahoots' (<I>i.e.</I>, shares) with his old pard, and is just laughin' at
+us as he's sendin' him accounts of our tomfoolin'."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And so the winter passed and the rains, and the days of cloudless skies
+and chill starlit nights began.  There were still freshets from the
+snow reservoirs piled high in the Sierran passes, and the Bar was
+flooded, but that passed too, and only the sunshine remained.
+Monotonous as the seasons were, there was a faint movement in the camp
+with the stirring of the sap in the pines and cedars.  And then, one
+day, there was a strange excitement on the Bar.  Men were seen running
+hither and thither, but mainly gathering in a crowd on Uncle Billy's
+claim, that still retained the old partners' names in "The Fall and
+Foster."  To add to the excitement; there was the quickly repeated
+report of a revolver, to all appearance aimlessly exploded in the air
+by some one on the outskirts of the assemblage.  As the crowd opened,
+Uncle Billy appeared, pale, hysterical, breathless, and staggering a
+little under the back-slapping and hand-shaking of the whole camp.  For
+Uncle Billy had "struck it rich"&mdash;had just discovered a "pocket,"
+roughly estimated to be worth fifteen thousand dollars!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Although in that supreme moment he missed the face of his old partner,
+he could not help seeing the unaffected delight and happiness shining
+in the eyes of all who surrounded him.  It was characteristic of that
+sanguine but uncertain life that success and good fortune brought no
+jealousy nor envy to the unfortunate, but was rather a promise and
+prophecy of the fulfillment of their own hopes.  The gold was
+there&mdash;Nature but yielded up her secret.  There was no prescribed limit
+to her bounty.  So strong was this conviction that a long-suffering but
+still hopeful miner, in the enthusiasm of the moment, stooped down and
+patted a large boulder with the apostrophic "Good old gal!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then followed a night of jubilee, a next morning of hurried
+consultation with a mining expert and speculator lured to the camp by
+the good tidings; and then the very next night&mdash;to the utter
+astonishment of Cedar Camp&mdash;Uncle Billy, with a draft for twenty
+thousand dollars in his pocket, started for San Francisco, and took
+leave of his claim and the camp forever!
+</P>
+
+<HR ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%">
+
+<P>
+When Uncle Billy landed at the wharves of San Francisco he was a little
+bewildered.  The Golden Gate beyond was obliterated by the incoming
+sea-fog, which had also roofed in the whole city, and lights already
+glittered along the gray streets that climbed the grayer sand-hills.
+As a Western man, brought up by inland rivers, he was fascinated and
+thrilled by the tall-masted sea-going ships, and he felt a strange
+sense of the remoter mysterious ocean, which he had never seen.  But he
+was impressed and startled by smartly dressed men and women, the
+passing of carriages, and a sudden conviction that he was strange and
+foreign to what he saw.  It had been his cherished intention to call
+upon his old partner in his working clothes, and then clap down on the
+table before him a draft for ten thousand dollars as <I>his</I> share of
+their old claim.  But in the face of these brilliant strangers a sudden
+and unexpected timidity came upon him.  He had heard of a cheap popular
+hotel, much frequented by the returning gold-miner, who entered its
+hospitable doors&mdash;which held an easy access to shops&mdash;and emerged in a
+few hours a gorgeous butterfly of fashion, leaving his old chrysalis
+behind him.  Thence he inquired his way; hence he afterwards issued in
+garments glaringly new and ill fitting.  But he had not sacrificed his
+beard, and there was still something fine and original in his handsome
+weak face that overcame the cheap convention of his clothes.  Making
+his way to the post-office, he was again discomfited by the great size
+of the building, and bewildered by the array of little square
+letter-boxes behind glass which occupied one whole wall, and an equal
+number of opaque and locked wooden ones legibly numbered.  His heart
+leaped; he remembered the number, and before him was a window with a
+clerk behind it.  Uncle Billy leaned forward.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Kin you tell me if the man that box 690 b'longs to is in?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The clerk stared, made him repeat the question, and then turned away.
+But he returned almost instantly, with two or three grinning heads
+besides his own, apparently set behind his shoulders.  Uncle Billy was
+again asked to repeat his question.  He did so.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why don't you go and see if 690 is in the box?" said the first clerk,
+turning with affected asperity to one of the others.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The clerk went away, returned, and said with singular gravity, "He was
+there a moment ago, but he's gone out to stretch his legs.  It's rather
+crampin' at first; and he can't stand it more than ten hours at a time,
+you know."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But simplicity has its limits.  Uncle Billy had already guessed his
+real error in believing his partner was officially connected with the
+building; his cheek had flushed and then paled again.  The pupils of
+his blue eyes had contracted into suggestive black points.  "Ef you'll
+let me in at that winder, young fellers," he said, with equal gravity,
+"I'll show yer how I kin make <I>you</I> small enough to go in a box without
+crampin'!  But I only wanted to know where Jim Foster <I>lived</I>."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At which the first clerk became perfunctory again, but civil.  "A
+letter left in his box would get you that information," he said, "and
+here's paper and pencil to write it now."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Billy took the paper and began to write, "Just got here.  Come
+and see me at"&mdash;  He paused.  A brilliant idea had struck him; he could
+impress both his old partner and the upstarts at the window; he would
+put in the name of the latest "swell" hotel in San Francisco, said to
+be a fairy dream of opulence.  He added "The Oriental," and without
+folding the paper shoved it in the window.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Don't you want an envelope?" asked the clerk.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Put a stamp on the corner of it," responded Uncle Billy, laying down a
+coin, "and she'll go through."  The clerk smiled, but affixed the
+stamp, and Uncle Billy turned away.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But it was a short-lived triumph.  The disappointment at finding Uncle
+Jim's address conveyed no idea of his habitation seemed to remove him
+farther away, and lose his identity in the great city.  Besides, he
+must now make good his own address, and seek rooms at the Oriental.  He
+went thither.  The furniture and decorations, even in these early days
+of hotel-building in San Francisco, were extravagant and overstrained,
+and Uncle Billy felt lost and lonely in his strange surroundings.  But
+he took a handsome suite of rooms, paid for them in advance on the
+spot, and then, half frightened, walked out of them to ramble vaguely
+through the city in the feverish hope of meeting his old partner.  At
+night his inquietude increased; he could not face the long row of
+tables in the pillared dining-room, filled with smartly dressed men and
+women; he evaded his bedroom, with its brocaded satin chairs and its
+gilt bedstead, and fled to his modest lodgings at the Good Cheer House,
+and appeased his hunger at its cheap restaurant, in the company of
+retired miners and freshly arrived Eastern emigrants.  Two or three
+days passed thus in this quaint double existence.  Three or four times
+a day he would enter the gorgeous Oriental with affected ease and
+carelessness, demand his key from the hotel-clerk, ask for the letter
+that did not come, go to his room, gaze vaguely from his window on the
+passing crowd below for the partner he could not find, and then return
+to the Good Cheer House for rest and sustenance.  On the fourth day he
+received a short note from Uncle Jim; it was couched in his usual
+sanguine but brief and business-like style.  He was very sorry, but
+important and profitable business took him out of town, but he trusted
+to return soon and welcome his old partner.  He was also, for the first
+time, jocose, and hoped that Uncle Billy would not "see all the sights"
+before he, Uncle Jim, returned.  Disappointing as this procrastination
+was to Uncle Billy, a gleam of hope irradiated it: the letter had
+bridged over that gulf which seemed to yawn between them at the
+post-office.  His old partner had accepted his visit to San Francisco
+without question, and had alluded to a renewal of their old intimacy.
+For Uncle Billy, with all his trustful simplicity, had been tortured by
+two harrowing doubts: one, whether Uncle Jim in his new-fledged
+smartness as a "city" man&mdash;such as he saw in the streets&mdash;would care
+for his rough companionship; the other, whether he, Uncle Billy, ought
+not to tell him at once of his changed fortune.  But, like all weak,
+unreasoning men, he clung desperately to a detail&mdash;he could not forego
+his old idea of astounding Uncle Jim by giving him his share of the
+"strike" as his first intimation of it, and he doubted, with more
+reason perhaps, if Jim would see him after he had heard of his good
+fortune.  For Uncle Billy had still a frightened recollection of Uncle
+Jim's sudden stroke for independence, and that rigid punctiliousness
+which had made him doggedly accept the responsibility of his
+extravagant stake at euchre.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+With a view of educating himself for Uncle Jim's company, he "saw the
+sights" of San Francisco&mdash;as an over-grown and somewhat stupid child
+might have seen them&mdash;with great curiosity, but little contamination or
+corruption.  But I think he was chiefly pleased with watching the
+arrival of the Sacramento and Stockton steamers at the wharves, in the
+hope of discovering his old partner among the passengers on the
+gang-plank.  Here, with his old superstitious tendency and gambler's
+instinct, he would augur great success in his search that day if any
+one of the passengers bore the least resemblance to Uncle Jim, if a man
+or woman stepped off first, or if he met a single person's questioning
+eye.  Indeed, this got to be the real occupation of the day, which he
+would on no account have omitted, and to a certain extent revived each
+day in his mind the morning's work of their old partnership.  He would
+say to himself, "It's time to go and look up Jim," and put off what he
+was pleased to think were his pleasures until this act of duty was
+accomplished.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In this singleness of purpose he made very few and no entangling
+acquaintances, nor did he impart to any one the secret of his fortune,
+loyally reserving it for his partner's first knowledge.  To a man of
+his natural frankness and simplicity this was a great trial, and was,
+perhaps, a crucial test of his devotion.  When he gave up his rooms at
+the Oriental&mdash;as not necessary after his partner's absence&mdash;he sent a
+letter, with his humble address, to the mysterious lock-box of his
+partner without fear or false shame.  He would explain it all when they
+met.  But he sometimes treated unlucky and returning miners to a dinner
+and a visit to the gallery of some theatre.  Yet while he had an active
+sympathy with and understanding of the humblest, Uncle Billy, who for
+many years had done his own and his partner's washing, scrubbing,
+mending, and cooking, and saw no degradation in it, was somewhat
+inconsistently irritated by menial functions in men, and although he
+gave extravagantly to waiters, and threw a dollar to the
+crossing-sweeper, there was always a certain shy avoidance of them in
+his manner.  Coming from the theatre one night Uncle Billy was,
+however, seriously concerned by one of these crossing-sweepers turning
+hastily before them and being knocked down by a passing carriage.  The
+man rose and limped hurriedly away; but Uncle Billy was amazed and
+still more irritated to hear from his companion that this kind of
+menial occupation was often profitable, and that at some of the
+principal crossings the sweepers were already rich men.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But a few days later brought a more notable event to Uncle Billy.  One
+afternoon in Montgomery Street he recognized in one of its smartly
+dressed frequenters a man who had a few years before been a member of
+Cedar Camp.  Uncle Billy's childish delight at this meeting, which
+seemed to bridge over his old partner's absence, was, however, only
+half responded to by the ex-miner, and then somewhat satirically.  In
+the fulness of his emotion, Uncle Billy confided to him that he was
+seeking his old partner, Jim Foster, and, reticent of his own good
+fortune, spoke glowingly of his partner's brilliant expectations, but
+deplored his inability to find him.  And just now he was away on
+important business.  "I reckon he's got back," said the man dryly.  "I
+didn't know he had a lock-box at the post-office, but I can give you
+his other address.  He lives at the Presidio, at Washerwoman's Bay."
+He stopped and looked with a satirical smile at Uncle Billy.  But the
+latter, familiar with Californian mining-camp nomenclature, saw nothing
+strange in it, and merely repeated his companion's words.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You'll find him there!  Good-by!  So long!  Sorry I'm in a hurry,"
+said the ex-miner, and hurried away.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Billy was too delighted with the prospect of a speedy meeting
+with Uncle Jim to resent his former associate's supercilious haste, or
+even to wonder why Uncle Jim had not informed him that he had returned.
+It was not the first time that he had felt how wide was the gulf
+between himself and these others, and the thought drew him closer to
+his old partner, as well as his old idea, as it was now possible to
+surprise him with the draft.  But as he was going to surprise him in
+his own boarding-house&mdash;probably a handsome one&mdash;Uncle Billy reflected
+that he would do so in a certain style.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He accordingly went to a livery stable and ordered a landau and pair,
+with a negro coachman.  Seated in it, in his best and most ill-fitting
+clothes, he asked the coachman to take him to the Presidio, and leaned
+back in the cushions as they drove through the streets with such an
+expression of beaming gratification on his good-humored face that the
+passers-by smiled at the equipage and its extravagant occupant.  To
+them it seemed the not unusual sight of the successful miner "on a
+spree."  To the unsophisticated Uncle Billy their smiling seemed only a
+natural and kindly recognition of his happiness, and he nodded and
+smiled back to them with unsuspecting candor and innocent playfulness.
+"These yer 'Frisco fellers ain't <I>all</I> slouches, you bet," he added to
+himself half aloud, at the back of the grinning coachman.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Their way led through well-built streets to the outskirts, or rather to
+that portion of the city which seemed to have been overwhelmed by
+shifting sand-dunes, from which half-submerged fences and even low
+houses barely marked the foe of highway.  The resistless trade-winds
+which had marked this change blew keenly in his face and slightly
+chilled his ardor.  At a turn in the road the sea came im sight, and
+sloping towards it the great Cemetery of Lone Mountain, with white
+shafts and marbles that glittered in the sunlight like the sails of
+ships waiting to be launched down that slope into the Eternal Ocean.
+Uncle Billy shuddered.  What if it had been his fate to seek Uncle Jim
+there!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dar's yar Presidio!" said the negro coachman a few moments later,
+pointing with his whip, "and dar's yar Wash'woman's Bay!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Billy stared.  A huge quadrangular fort of stone with a flag
+flying above its battlements stood at a little distance, pressed
+against the rocks, as if beating back the encroaching surges; between
+him and the fort but farther inland was a lagoon with a number of
+dilapidated, rudely patched cabins or cottages, like stranded driftwood
+around its shore.  But there was no mansion, no block of houses, no
+street, not another habitation or dwelling to be seen!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Billy's first shock of astonishment was succeeded by a feeling of
+relief.  He had secretly dreaded a meeting with his old partner in the
+"haunts of fashion"; whatever was the cause that made Uncle Jim seek
+this obscure retirement affected him but slightly; he even was thrilled
+with a vague memory of the old shiftless camp they had both abandoned.
+A certain instinct&mdash;-he knew not why, or less still that it might be
+one of delicacy&mdash;made him alight before they reached the first house.
+Bidding the carriage wait; Uncle Billy entered, and was informed by a
+blowzy Irish laundress at a tub that Jim Foster, or "Arkansaw Jim,"
+lived at the fourth shanty "beyant."  He was at home, for "he'd
+shprained his fut."  Uncle Billy hurried on, stopped before the door of
+a shanty scarcely less rude than their old cabin, and half timidly
+pushed it open.  A growling voice from within, a figure that rose
+hurriedly, leaning on a stick, with an attempt to fly, but in the same
+moment sank back in a chair with an hysterical laugh&mdash;and Uncle Billy
+stood in the presence of his old partner!  But as Uncle Billy darted
+forward, Uncle Jim rose again, and this time with outstretched hands.
+Uncle Billy caught them, and in one supreme pressure seemed to pour out
+and transfuse his whole simple soul into his partner's.  There they
+swayed each other backwards and forwards and sideways by their still
+clasped hands, until Uncle Billy, with a glance at Uncle Jim's bandaged
+ankle, shoved him by sheer force down into his chair.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Jim was first to speak.  "Caught, b'gosh!  I mighter known you'd
+be as big a fool as me!  Look you, Billy Fall, do you know what you've
+done?  You've druv me out er the streets whar I was makin' an honest
+livin', by day, on three crossin's!  Yes," he laughed forgivingly, "you
+druv me out er it, by day, jest because I reckoned that some time I
+might run into your darned fool face,"&mdash;another laugh and a grasp of
+the hand,&mdash;"and then, b'gosh! not content with ruinin' my business <I>by
+day</I>, when I took to it at night; <I>you</I> took to goin' out at nights
+too, and so put a stopper on me there!  Shall I tell you what else you
+did?  Well, by the holy poker!  I owe this sprained foot to your darned
+foolishness and my own, for it was getting away from <I>you</I> one night
+after the theatre that I got run into and run over!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ye see," he went on, unconscious of Uncle Billy's paling face, and
+with a <I>naïvete</I>, though perhaps not a delicacy, equal to Uncle Billy's
+own, "I had to play roots on you with that lock-box business and these
+letters, because I did not want you to know what I was up to, for you
+mightn't like it, and might think it was lowerin' to the old firm,
+don't yer see?  I wouldn't hev gone into it, but I was played out, and
+I don't mind tellin' you <I>now</I>, old man, that when I wrote you that
+first chipper letter from the lock-box I hedn't eat anythin' for two
+days.  But it's all right <I>now</I>," with a laugh.  "Then I got into this
+business&mdash;thinkin' it nothin'&mdash;jest the very last thing&mdash;and do you
+know, old pard, I couldn't tell anybody but you&mdash;and, in fact, I kept
+it jest to tell you&mdash;I've made nine hundred and fifty-six dollars!
+Yes, sir, <I>nine hundred and fifty-six dollars</I>! solid money, in Adams
+and Co.'s Bank, just out er my trade."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Wot trade?" asked Uncle Billy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Jim pointed to the corner, where stood a large, heavy
+crossing-sweeper's broom.  "That trade."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Certingly," said Uncle Billy, with a quick laugh.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's an outdoor trade," said Uncle Jim gravely, but with no suggestion
+of awkwardness or apology in his manner; "and thar ain't much
+difference between sweepin' a crossin' with a broom and raking over
+tailing with a rake, <I>only&mdash;wot ye get</I> with a broom <I>you have handed
+to ye</I>, and ye don't have to <I>pick it up and fish it out er</I> the wet
+rocks and sluice-gushin'; and it's a heap less tiring to the back."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Certingly, you bet!" said Uncle Billy enthusiastically, yet with a
+certain nervous abstraction.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm glad ye say so; for yer see I didn't know at first how you'd
+tumble to my doing it, until I'd made my pile.  And ef I hadn't made
+it, I wouldn't hev set eyes on ye agin, old pard&mdash;never!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Do you mind my runnin' out a minit?" said Uncle Billy, rising.  "You
+see, I've got a friend waitin' for me outside&mdash;and I reckon"&mdash;he
+stammered&mdash;"I'll jest run out and send him off, so I kin talk comf'ble
+to ye."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ye ain't got anybody you're owin' money to," said Uncle Jim earnestly,
+"anybody follerin' you to get paid, eh?  For I kin jest set down right
+here and write ye off a check on the bank!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No," said Uncle Billy.  He slipped out of the door, and ran like a
+deer to the waiting carriage.  Thrusting a twenty-dollar gold-piece
+into the coachman's hand, he said hoarsely, "I ain't wantin' that
+kerridge just now; ye ken drive around and hev a private jamboree all
+by yourself the rest of the afternoon, and then come and wait for me at
+the top o' the hill yonder."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thus quit of his gorgeous equipage, he hurried back to Uncle Jim,
+grasping his ten thousand dollar draft in his pocket.  He was nervous,
+he was frightened, but he must get rid of the draft and his story, and
+have it over.  But before he could speak he was unexpectedly stopped by
+Uncle Jim.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Now, look yer, Billy boy!" said Uncle Jim; "I got suthin' to say to
+ye&mdash;and I might as well clear it off my mind at once, and then we can
+start fair agin.  Now," he went on, with a half laugh, "wasn't it
+enough for <I>me</I> to go on pretendin' I was rich and doing a big
+business, and gettin' up that lock-box dodge so as ye couldn't find out
+whar I hung out and what I was doin'&mdash;wasn't it enough for me to go on
+with all this play-actin', but <I>you</I>, you long-legged or'nary cuss!
+must get up and go to lyin' and play-acting too!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"<I>Me</I> play-actin'?  <I>Me</I> lyin'?" gasped Uncle Billy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Jim leaned back in his chair and laughed.  "Do you think you
+could fool <I>me</I>?  Do you think I didn't see through your little game o'
+going to that swell Oriental, jest as if ye'd made a big strike&mdash;and
+all the while ye wasn't sleepin' 'or eatin' there, but jest wrastlin'
+yer hash and having a roll down at the Good Cheer!  Do you think I
+didn't spy on ye and find that out?  Oh, you long-eared jackass-rabbit!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He laughed until the tears came into his eyes, and Uncle Billy laughed
+too, albeit until the laugh on his face became quite fixed, and he was
+fain to bury his head in his handkerchief.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And yet," said Uncle Jim, with a deep breath, "gosh!  I was
+frightened&mdash;jest for a minit!  I thought, mebbe, you <I>had</I> made a big
+strike&mdash;when I got your first letter&mdash;and I made up my mind what I'd
+do!  And then I remembered you was jest that kind of an open sluice
+that couldn't keep anythin' to yourself, and you'd have been sure to
+have yelled it out to <I>me</I> the first thing.  So I waited.  And I found
+you out, you old sinner!"  He reached forward and dug Uncle Billy in
+the ribs.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What <I>would</I> you hev done?" said Uncle Billy, after an hysterical
+collapse.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Jim's face grew grave again.  "I'd hev&mdash;I'd&mdash;hev cl'ared out!
+Out er 'Frisco! out er Californy! out er Ameriky!  I couldn't have stud
+it!  Don't think I would hev begrudged ye yer luck!  No man would have
+been gladder than me."  He leaned forward again, and laid his hand
+caressingly upon his partner's arm&mdash;"Don't think I'd hev wanted to take
+a penny of it&mdash;but I&mdash;thar!  I <I>couldn't</I> hev stood up under it!  To
+hev had <I>you</I>, you, you that I left behind, comin' down here rollin' in
+wealth and new partners and friends, and arrive upon me&mdash;and this
+shonty&mdash;and"&mdash;he threw towards the corner of the room a terrible
+gesture, none the less terrible that it was illogical and inconsequent,
+to all that had gone before&mdash;"and&mdash;and&mdash;<I>that broom</I>!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was a dead silence in the room.  With it Uncle Billy seemed to
+feel himself again transported to the homely cabin at Cedar Camp and
+that fateful night, with his partner's strange, determined face before
+him as then.  He even fancied that he heard the roaring of the pines
+without, and did not know that it was the distant sea.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But after a minute Uncle Jim resumed:&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Of course you've made a little raise somehow, or you wouldn't be here?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," said Uncle Billy eagerly.  "Yes!  I've got"&mdash;  He stopped and
+stammered.  "I've got&mdash;a&mdash;few hundreds."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, oh!" said Uncle Jim cheerfully.  He paused, and then added
+earnestly, "I say!  You ain't got left, over and above your d&mdash;d
+foolishness at the Oriental, as much as five hundred dollars?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I've got," said Uncle Billy, blushing a little over his first
+deliberate and affected lie, "I've got at least five hundred and
+seventy-two dollars.  Yes," he added tentatively, gazing anxiously at
+his partner, "I've got at least that."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Jee whillikins!" said Uncle Jim, with a laugh.  Then eagerly, "Look
+here, pard!  Then we're on velvet!  I've got <I>nine</I> hundred; put your
+<I>five</I> with that, and I know a little ranch that we can get for twelve
+hundred.  That's what I've been savin' up for&mdash;that's my little game!
+No more minin' for <I>me</I>.  It's got a shanty twice as big as our old
+cabin, nigh on a hundred acres, and two mustangs.  We can run it with
+two Chinamen and jest make it howl!  Wot yer say&mdash;eh?"  He extended his
+hand.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm in," said Uncle Billy, radiantly grasping Uncle Jim's.  But his
+smile faded, and his clear simple brow wrinkled in two lines.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Happily Uncle Jim did not notice it.  "Now, then, old pard," he said
+brightly, "we'll have a gay old time to-night&mdash;one of our jamborees!
+I've got some whisky here and a deck o' cards, and we'll have a little
+game, you understand, but not for 'keeps' now!  No, siree; we'll play
+for beans."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A sudden light illuminated Uncle Billy's face again, but he said, with
+a grim desperation, "Not to-night!  I've got to go into town.  That
+fren' o' mine expects me to go to the theayter, don't ye see?  But I'll
+be out to-morrow at sun-up, and we'll fix up this thing o' the ranch."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Seems to me you're kinder stuck on this fren'," grunted Uncle Jim.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Billy's heart bounded at his partner's jealousy.  "No&mdash;but I
+<I>must</I>, you know," he returned, with a faint laugh.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I say&mdash;it ain't a <I>her</I>, is it?" said Uncle Jim.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Billy achieved a diabolical wink and a creditable blush at his
+lie.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Billy!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Jim!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And under cover of this festive gallantry Uncle Billy escaped.  He ran
+through the gathering darkness, and toiled up the shifting sands to the
+top of the hill, where he found the carriage waiting.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Wot," said Uncle Billy in a low confidential tone to the coachman,
+"wot do you 'Frisco fellers allow to be the best, biggest, and riskiest
+gamblin'-saloon here?  Suthin' high-toned, you know?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The negro grinned.  It was the usual case of the extravagant
+spendthrift miner, though perhaps he had expected a different question
+and order.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dey is de 'Polka,' de 'El Dorado,' and de 'Arcade' saloon, boss," he
+said, flicking his whip meditatively.  "Most gents from de mines prefer
+de 'Polka,' for dey is dancing wid de gals frown in.  But de real
+<I>prima facie</I> place for gents who go for buckin' agin de tiger and
+straight-out gamblin' is de Arcade.'"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Drive there like thunder!" said Uncle Billy, leaping into the carriage.
+</P>
+
+<HR ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%">
+
+<P>
+True to his word, Uncle Billy was at his partner's shanty early the
+next morning.  He looked a little tired, but happy, and had brought a
+draft with him for five hundred and seventy-five dollars, which he
+explained was the total of his capital.  Uncle Jim was overjoyed.  They
+would start for Napa that very day, and conclude the purchase of the
+ranch; Uncle Jim's sprained foot was a sufficient reason for his giving
+up his present vocation, which he could also sell at a small profit.
+His domestic arrangements were very simple; there was nothing to take
+with him&mdash;there was everything to leave behind.  And that afternoon, at
+sunset, the two reunited partners were seated on the deck of the Napa
+boat as she swung into the stream.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Billy was gazing over the railing with a look of abstracted
+relief towards the Golden Gate, where the sinking sun seemed to be
+drawing towards him in the ocean a golden stream that was forever
+pouring from the Bay and the three-hilled city beside it.  What Uncle
+Billy was thinking of, or what the picture suggested to him, did not
+transpire; for Uncle Jim, who, emboldened by his holiday, was
+luxuriating in an evening paper, suddenly uttered a long-drawn whistle,
+and moved closer to his abstracted partner.  "Look yer," he said,
+pointing to a paragraph he had evidently just read, "just you listen to
+this, and see if we ain't lucky, you and me, to be jest wot we
+air&mdash;trustin' to our own hard work&mdash;and not thinkin' o' 'strikes' and
+'fortins.'  Jest unbutton yer ears, Billy, while I reel off this yer
+thing I've jest struck in the paper, and see what d&mdash;d fools some men
+kin make o' themselves.  And that theer reporter wot wrote it&mdash;must hev
+seed it reely!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Jim cleared his throat, and holding the paper close to his eyes
+read aloud slowly:&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'A scene of excitement that recalled the palmy days of '49 was
+witnessed last night at the Arcade Saloon.  A stranger, who might have
+belonged to that reckless epoch, and who bore every evidence of being a
+successful Pike County miner out on a "spree," appeared at one of the
+tables with a negro coachman bearing two heavy bags of gold.  Selecting
+a faro-bank as his base of operations, he began to bet heavily and with
+apparent recklessness, until his play excited the breathless attention
+of every one.  In a few moments he had won a sum variously estimated at
+from eighty to a hundred thousand dollars.  A rumor went round the room
+that it was a concerted attempt to "break the bank" rather than the
+drunken freak of a Western miner, dazzled by some successful strike.
+To this theory the man's careless and indifferent bearing towards his
+extraordinary gains lent great credence.  The attempt, if such it was,
+however, was unsuccessful.  After winning ten times in succession the
+luck turned, and the unfortunate "bucket" was cleared out not only of
+his gains, but of his original investment, which may be placed roughly
+at twenty thousand dollars.  This extraordinary play was witnessed by a
+crowd of excited players, who were less impressed by even the magnitude
+of the stakes than the perfect <I>sang froid</I> and recklessness of the
+player, who, it is said, at the close of the game tossed a
+twenty-dollar gold-piece to the banker and smilingly withdrew.  The man
+was not recognized by any of the habitués of the place.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There!" said Uncle Jim, as he hurriedly slurred over the French
+substantive at the close, "did ye ever see such God-forsaken
+foolishness?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Uncle Billy lifted his abstracted eyes from the current, still pouring
+its unreturning gold into the sulking sun, and said, with a deprecatory
+smile, "Never!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Nor even in the days of prosperity that visited the Great Wheat Ranch
+of "Fall and Foster" did he ever tell his secret to his partner.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap06"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE NOTARY OF PERIGUEUX
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By H. W. LONGFELLOW
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+Do not trust thy body with a physician.  He'll make thy foolish bones
+go without flesh in a fortnight, and thy soul walk without a body in a
+se'nnight after.&mdash;<I>Shirley</I>.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+You must know, gentlemen, that there lived some years ago, in the city
+of Périgueux, an honest notary public, the descendant of a very ancient
+and broken-down family, and the occupant of one of those old
+weather-beaten tenements which remind you of the times of your
+great-grandfather.  He was a man of an unoffending, quiet disposition;
+the father of a family, though not the head of it&mdash;for in that family
+"the hen overcrowed the cock," and the neighbors, when they spake of
+the notary, shrugged their shoulders, and exclaimed, "Poor fellow! his
+spurs want sharpening."  In fine&mdash;you understand me, gentlemen&mdash;he was
+hen-pecked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Well, finding no peace at home, he sought it elsewhere, as was very
+natural for him to do; and at length discovered a place of rest far
+beyond the cares and clamors of domestic life.  This was a little <I>café
+estaminet</I> a short way out of the city, whither he repaired every
+evening to smoke his pipe, drink sugar-water, and play his favorite
+game of domino.  There he met the boon companions he most loved; heard
+all the floating chit-chat of the day; laughed when he was in a merry
+mood; found consolation when he was sad; and at all times gave vent to
+his opinions without fear of being snubbed short by a flat
+contradiction.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now, the notary's bosom friend was a dealer in claret and cognac, who
+lived about a league from the city, and always passed his evenings at
+the <I>estaminet</I>.  He was a gross, corpulent fellow, raised from a
+full-blooded Gascon breed, and sired by a comic actor of some
+reputation in his way.  He was remarkable for nothing but his
+good-humor, his love of cards, and a strong propensity to test the
+quality of his own liquors by comparing them with those sold at other
+places.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As evil communications corrupt good manners, the bad practices of the
+wine-dealer won insensibly upon the worthy notary; and before he was
+aware of it, he found himself weaned from domino and sugar-water, and
+addicted to piquet and spiced wine.  Indeed, it not infrequently
+happened that, after a long session at the <I>estaminet</I>, the two friends
+grew so urbane that they would waste a full half-hour at the door in
+friendly dispute which should conduct the other home.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Though this course of life agreed well enough with the sluggish,
+phlegmatic temperament of the wine-dealer, it soon began to play the
+very deuce with the more sensitive organization of the notary, and
+finally put his nervous system completely out of tune.  He lost his
+appetite, became gaunt and haggard, and could get no sleep.  Legions of
+blue-devils haunted him by day, and by night strange faces peeped
+through his bed-curtains and the nightmare snorted in his ear.  The
+worse he grew the more he smoked and tippled; and the more he smoked
+and tippled, why, as a matter of course, the worse he grew.  His wife
+alternately stormed, remonstrated, entreated; but all in vain.  She
+made the house too hot for him&mdash;he retreated to the tavern; she broke
+his long-stemmed pipes upon the andirons&mdash;he substituted a
+short-stemmed one, which, for safe-keeping, he carried in his waistcoat
+pocket.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thus the unhappy notary ran gradually down at the heel.  What with his
+bad habits and his domestic grievances, he became completely hipped.
+He imagined that he was going to die, and suffered in quick succession
+all the diseases that ever beset mortal man.  Every shooting pain was
+an alarming symptom&mdash;every uneasy feeling after dinner a sure
+prognostic of some mortal disease.  In vain did his friends endeavor to
+reason, and then to laugh him out of his strange whims; for when did
+ever jest or reason cure a sick imagination?  His only answer was, "Do
+let me alone; I know better than you what ails me."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Well, gentlemen, things were in this state when, one afternoon in
+December, as he sat moping in his office, wrapped in an overcoat, with
+a cap on his head and his feet thrust into a pair of furred slippers, a
+cabriolet stopped at the door, and a loud knocking without aroused him
+from his gloomy revery.  It was a message from his friend the
+wine-dealer, who had been suddenly attacked with a violent fever, and,
+growing worse and worse, bad now sent in the greatest haste for the
+notary to draw up his last will and testament.  The case was urgent,
+and admitted neither excuse nor delay; and the notary, tying a
+handkerchief round his face, and buttoning up to the chin, jumped into
+the cabriolet, and suffered himself, though not without some dismal
+presentiments and misgivings of heart, to be driven to the
+wine-dealer's house.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When he arrived he found everything in the greatest confusion.  On
+entering the house he ran against the apothecary, who was coming down
+stairs, with a face as long as your arm; and a few steps farther he met
+the housekeeper&mdash;for the wine-dealer was an old bachelor&mdash;running up
+and down, and wringing her hands, for fear that the good man should die
+without making his will.  He soon reached the chamber of his sick
+friend, and found him tossing about in a paroxysm of fever, and calling
+aloud for a draught of cold water.  The notary shook his head; he
+thought this a fatal symptom; for ten years back the wine-dealer had
+been suffering under a species of hydrophobia, which seemed suddenly to
+have left him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When the sick man saw who stood by his bedside he stretched out his
+hand and exclaimed:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah! my dear friend! have you come at last?  You see it is all over
+with me.  You have arrived just in time to draw up that&mdash;that passport
+of mine.  Ah, <I>grand diable</I>! how hot it is here!  Water&mdash;water&mdash;water!
+Will nobody give me a drop of cold water?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As the case was an urgent one, the notary made no delay in getting his
+papers in readiness; and in a short time the last will and testament of
+the wine-dealer was drawn up in due form, the notary guiding the sick
+man's hand as he scrawled his signature at the bottom.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As the evening wore away, the wine-dealer grew worse and worse, and at
+length became delirious, mingling in his incoherent ravings the phrases
+of the Credo and Paternoster with the shibboleth of the dram-shop and
+the card-table.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Take care! take care!  There, now&mdash;<I>Credo in</I>&mdash;Pop!  ting-a-ling-ling!
+give me some of that.  Cent-é-dize!  Why, you old publican, this wine
+is poisoned&mdash;I know your tricks!&mdash;<I>Sanctam ecclesiam Catholicam</I>&mdash;Well,
+well, we shall see.  Imbecile! to have a tierce-major and a seven of
+hearts, and discard the seven!  By St.  Anthony, capot!  You are
+lurched&mdash;ha! ha!  I told you so.  I knew very well&mdash;there&mdash;there&mdash;don't
+interrupt me&mdash;<I>Carnis resurrectionem et vitam eternam</I>!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+With these words upon his lips the poor wine-dealer expired.  Meanwhile
+the notary sat cowering over the fire, aghast at the fearful scene that
+was passing before him, and now and then striving to keep up his
+courage by a glass of cognac.  Already his fears were on the alert, and
+the idea of contagion flitted to and fro through his mind.  In order to
+quiet these thoughts of evil import, he lighted his pipe, and began to
+prepare for returning home.  At that moment the apothecary turned round
+to him and said:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dreadful sickly time, this! The disorder seems to be spreading."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What disorder?" exclaimed the notary, with a movement of surprise.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Two died yesterday, and three to-day," continued the apothecary,
+without answering the question.  "Very sickly time, sir&mdash;very."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But what disorder is it?  What disease has carried off my friend here
+so suddenly?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What disease?  Why, scarlet fever, to be sure."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And is it contagious?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Certainly."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then I am a dead man!" exclaimed the notary, putting his pipe into his
+waistcoat-pocket, and beginning to walk up and down the room in
+despair.  "I am a dead man!  Now don't deceive me&mdash;don't, will you?
+What&mdash;what are the symptoms?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A sharp burning pain in the right side," said the apothecary.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, what a fool I was to come here!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In vain did the housekeeper and the apothecary strive to pacify him&mdash;he
+was not a man to be reasoned with; he answered that he knew his own
+constitution better than they did, and insisted upon going home without
+delay.  Unfortunately, the vehicle he came in had returned to the city,
+and the whole neighborhood was abed and asleep.  What was to be done?
+Nothing in the world but to take the apothecary's horse, which stood
+hitched at the door, patiently waiting his master's will.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Well, gentlemen, as there was no remedy, our notary mounted this
+raw-boned steed, and set forth upon his homeward journey.  The night
+was cold and gusty, and the wind right in his teeth.  Overhead the
+leaden clouds were beating to and fro, and through them the newly-risen
+moon seemed to be tossing and drifting along like a cock-boat in the
+surf; now swallowed up in a huge billow of cloud, and now lifted upon
+its bosom and dashed with silvery spray.  The trees by the roadside
+groaned with a sound of evil omen, and before him lay three mortal
+miles, beset with a thousand imaginary perils.  Obedient to the whip
+and spur, the steed leaped forward by fits and starts, now dashing away
+in a tremendous gallop, and now relaxing into a long, hard trot; while
+the rider, filled with symptoms of disease and dire presentiments of
+death, urged him on, as if he were fleeing before the pestilence.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In this way, by dint of whistling and shouting, and beating right and
+left, one mile of the fatal three was safely passed.  The apprehensions
+of the notary had so far subsided that he even suffered the poor horse
+to walk up hill; but these apprehensions were suddenly revived again
+with tenfold violence by a sharp pain in the right side, which seemed
+to pierce him like a needle.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is upon me at last!" groaned the fear-stricken man.  "Heaven be
+merciful to me, the greatest of sinners!  And must I die in a ditch,
+after all?  He! get up! get up!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And away went horse and rider at full speed&mdash;hurry-scurry&mdash;up hill and
+down&mdash;panting and blowing like a whirlwind.  At every leap the pain in
+the rider's side seemed to increase.  At first it was a little point
+like the prick of a needle&mdash;then it spread to the size of a half-franc
+piece&mdash;then covered a place as large as the palm of your hand.  It
+gained upon him fast.  The poor man groaned aloud in agony; faster and
+faster sped the horse over the frozen ground&mdash;farther and farther
+spread the pain over his side.  To complete the dismal picture, the
+storm commenced&mdash;snow mingled with rain.  But snow and rain, and cold
+were naught to him; for, though his arms and legs were frozen to
+icicles, he felt it not; the fatal symptom was upon him; he was doomed
+to die&mdash;not of cold, but of scarlet fever!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At length, he knew not how, more dead than alive, he reached the gate
+of the city.  A band of ill-bred dogs, that were serenading at a corner
+of the street, seeing the notary dash by, joined in the hue and cry,
+and ran barking and yelping at his heels.  It was now late at night,
+and only here and there a solitary lamp twinkled from an upper story.
+But on went the notary, down this street and up that, till at last he
+reached his own door.  There was a light in his wife's bedchamber.  The
+good woman came to the window, alarmed at such a knocking, and howling,
+and clattering at her door so late at night; and the notary was too
+deeply absorbed in his own sorrows to observe that the lamp cast the
+shadow of two heads on the window-curtain.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Let me in! let me in!  Quick! quick!" he exclaimed, almost breathless
+from terror and fatigue.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Who are you, that come to disturb a lone woman at this hour of the
+night?" cried a sharp voice from above.  "Begone about your business,
+and let quiet people sleep."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, <I>diable, diable</I>!  Come down and let me in!  I am your husband.
+Don't you know my voice?  Quick, I beseech you; for I am dying here in
+the street!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After a few moments of delay and a few more words of parley, the door
+was opened, and the notary stalked into his domicile, pale and haggard
+in aspect, and as stiff and straight as a ghost.  Cased from head to
+heel in an armor of ice, as the glare of the lamp fell upon him he
+looked like a knight-errant mailed in steel.  But in one place his
+armor was broken.  On his right side was a circular spot as large as
+the crown of your hat, and about as black!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"My dear wife!" he exclaimed, with more tenderness than he had
+exhibited for many years, "reach me a chair.  My hours are numbered.  I
+am a dead man!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Alarmed at these exclamations, his wife stripped off his overcoat.
+Something fell from beneath it, and was dashed to pieces on the hearth.
+It was the notary's pipe.  He placed his hand upon his side, and lo! it
+was bare to the skin.  Coat, waistcoat, and linen were burnt through
+and through, and there was a blister on his side as large over as your
+head!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The mystery was soon explained, symptom and all.  The notary had put
+his pipe into his pocket without knocking out the ashes!  And so my
+story ends.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"Is that all?" asked the radical, when the story-teller had finished.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That is all."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, what does your story prove?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That is more than I can tell.  All I know is that the story is true."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And did he die?" said the nice little man in gosling-green.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes; he died afterward," replied the story-teller, rather annoyed at
+the question.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And what did he die of?" continued gosling-green, following him up.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What did he die of? why, he died&mdash;of a sudden!"
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap07"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE WIDOW'S CRUISE
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By F. R. STOCKTON
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+"From a Story-Teller's Pack."  Copyright 1897 by Charles Scribner's
+Sons.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+The widow Ducket lived in a small village about ten miles from the New
+Jersey seacoast.  In this village she was born, here she had married
+and buried her husband, and here she expected somebody to bury her; but
+she was in no hurry for this, for she had scarcely reached middle age.
+She was a tall woman with no apparent fat in her composition, and full
+of activity, both muscular and mental.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She rose at six o'clock in the morning, cooked breakfast, set the
+table, washed the dishes when the meal was over, milked, churned,
+swept, washed, ironed, worked in her little garden, attended to the
+flowers in the front yard and in the afternoon knitted and quilted and
+sewed, and after tea she either went to see her neighbors or had them
+come to see her.  When it was really dark she lighted the lamp in her
+parlor and read for an hour, and if it happened to be one of Miss Mary
+Wilkins's books that she read she expressed doubts as to the realism of
+the characters therein described.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+These doubts she expressed to Dorcas Networthy, who was a small, plump
+woman, with a solemn face, who had lived with the widow for many years
+and who had become her devoted disciple.  Whatever the widow did, that
+also did Dorcas&mdash;not so well, for her heart told her she could never
+expect to do that, but with a yearning anxiety to do everything as well
+as she could.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She rose at five minutes past six, and in a subsidiary way she helped
+to get the breakfast, to eat it, to wash up the dishes, to work in the
+garden, to quilt, to sew, to visit and receive, and no one could have
+tried harder than she did to keep awake when the widow read aloud in
+the evening.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+All these things happened every day in the summer-time, but in the
+winter the widow and Dorcas cleared the snow from their little front
+path instead of attending to the flowers, and in the evening they
+lighted a fire as well as a lamp in the parlor.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Sometimes, however, something different happened, but this was not
+often, only a few times in the year.  One of the different things
+occurred when Mrs. Ducket and Dorcas were sitting on their little front
+porch one summer afternoon, one on the little bench on one side of the
+door, and the other on the little bench on the other side of the door,
+each waiting until she should hear the clock strike five, to prepare
+tea.  But it was not yet a quarter to five when a one-horse wagon
+containing four men came slowly down the street.  Dorcas first saw the
+wagon, and she instantly stopped knitting.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mercy on me!" she exclaimed.  "Whoever those people are, they are
+strangers here, and they don't know where to stop, for they first go to
+one side of the street and then to the other."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The widow looked around sharply.  "Humph!" said she.  "Those men are
+sailormen.  You might see that in a twinklin' of an eye.  Sailormen
+always drive that way, because that is the way they sail ships.  They
+first tack in one direction and then in another."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mr. Ducket didn't like the sea?" remarked Dorcas, for about the three
+hundredth time.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, he didn't," answered the widow, for about the two hundred and
+fiftieth time, for there had been occasions when she thought Dorcas put
+this question inopportunely.  "He hated it, and he was drowned in it
+through trustin' a sailorman, which I never did nor shall.  Do you
+really believe those men are comin' here?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Upon my word I do!" said Dorcas, and her opinion was correct.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The wagon drew up in front of Mrs. Ducket's little white house, and the
+two women sat rigidly, their hands in their laps, staring at the man
+who drove.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This was an elderly personage with whitish hair, and under his chin a
+thin whitish beard, which waved in the gentle breeze and gave Dorcas
+the idea that his head was filled with hair which was leaking out from
+below.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Is this the Widow Ducket's?" inquired this elderly man, in a strong,
+penetrating voice.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That's my name," said the widow, and laying her knitting on the bench
+beside her, she went to the gate.  Dorcas also laid her knitting on the
+bench beside her and went to the gate.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I was told," said the elderly man, "at a house we touched at about a
+quarter of a mile back, that the Widow Ducket's was the only house in
+this village where there was any chance of me and my mates getting a
+meal.  We are four sailors, and we are making from the bay over to
+Cuppertown, and that's eight miles ahead yet, and we are all pretty
+sharp set for something to eat."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"This is the place," said the widow, "and I do give meals if there is
+enough in the house and everything comes handy."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Does everything come handy to-day?" said he.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It does," said she, "and you can hitch your horse and come in; but I
+haven't got anything for him."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, that's all right," said the man, "we brought along stores for him,
+so we'll just make fast and then come in."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The two women hurried into the house in a state of bustling
+preparation, for the furnishing of this meal meant one dollar in cash.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The four mariners, all elderly men, descended from the wagon, each one
+scrambling with alacrity over a different wheel.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A box of broken ship-biscuit was brought out and put on the ground in
+front of the horse, who immediately set himself to eating with great
+satisfaction.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Tea was a little late that day, because there were six persons to
+provide for instead of two, but it was a good meal, and after the four
+seamen had washed their hands and faces at the pump in the back yard
+and had wiped them on two towels furnished by Dorcas, they all came in
+and sat down.  Mrs. Ducket seated herself at the head of the table with
+the dignity proper to the mistress of the house, and Dorcas seated
+herself at the other end with the dignity proper to the disciple of the
+mistress.  No service was necessary, for everything that was to be
+eaten or drunk was on the table.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When each of the elderly mariners had had as much bread and butter,
+quickly baked soda-biscuit, dried beef, cold ham, cold tongue, and
+preserved fruit of every variety known, as his storage capacity would
+permit, the mariner in command, Captain Bird, pushed back his chair,
+whereupon the other mariners pushed back their chairs.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Madam," said Captain Bird, "we have all made a good meal, which didn't
+need to be no better nor more of it, and we're satisfied; but that
+horse out there has not had time to rest himself enough to go the eight
+miles that lies ahead of us, so, if it's all the same to you and this
+good lady, we'd like to sit on that front porch awhile and smoke our
+pipes.  I was a-looking at that porch when I came in, and I bethought
+to myself what a rare good place it was to smoke a pipe in."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There's pipes been smoked there," said the widow, rising, "and it can
+be done again.  Inside the house I don't allow tobacco, but on the
+porch neither of us minds."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So the four captains betook themselves to the porch, two of them
+seating themselves on the little bench on one side of the door, and two
+of them on the little bench on the other side of the door, and lighted
+their pipes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Shall we clear off the table and wash up the dishes," said Dorcas, "or
+wait until they are gone?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We will wait until they are gone," said the widow, "for now that they
+are here we might as well have a bit of a chat with them.  When a
+sailorman lights his pipe he is generally willin' to talk, but when he
+is eatin' you can't get a word out of him."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Without thinking it necessary to ask permission, for the house belonged
+to her, the Widow Ducket brought a chair and put it in the hall close
+to the open front door, and Dorcas brought another chair and seated
+herself by the side of the widow.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Do all you sailormen belong down there at the bay?" asked Mrs. Ducket;
+thus the conversation began, and in a few minutes it had reached a
+point at which Captain Bird thought it proper to say that a great many
+strange things happen to seamen sailing on the sea which lands-people
+never dream of.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Such as anything in particular?" asked the widow, at which remark
+Dorcas clasped her hands in expectancy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At this question each of the mariners took his pipe from his mouth and
+gazed upon the floor in thought.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There's a good many strange things happened to me and my mates at sea.
+Would you and that other lady like to hear any of them?" asked Captain
+Bird.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We would like to hear them if they are true," said the widow.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There's nothing happened to me and my mates that isn't true," said
+Captain Bird, "and here is something that once happened to me: I was on
+a whaling v'yage when a big sperm-whale, just as mad as a fiery bull,
+came at us, head on, and struck the ship at the stern with such
+tremendous force that his head crashed right through her timbers and he
+went nearly half his length into her hull.  The hold was mostly filled
+with empty barrels, for we was just beginning our v'yage, and when he
+had made kindling-wood of these there was room enough for him.  We all
+expected that it wouldn't take five minutes for the vessel to fill and
+go to the bottom, and we made ready to take to the boats; but it turned
+out we didn't need to take to no boats, for as fast as the water rushed
+into the hold of the ship, that whale drank it and squirted it up
+through the two blow-holes in the top of his head, and as there was an
+open hatchway just over his head, the water all went into the sea
+again, and that whale kept working day and night pumping the water out
+until we beached the vessel on the island of Trinidad&mdash;the whale
+helping us wonderful on our way over by the powerful working of his
+tail, which, being outside in the water, acted like a propeller.  I
+don't believe anything stranger than that ever happened to a
+whaling-ship."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No," said the widow, "I don't believe anything ever did."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Captain Bird now looked at Captain Sanderson, and the latter took his
+pipe out of his mouth and said that in all his sailing around the world
+he had never known anything queerer than what happened to a big
+steamship he chanced to be on, which ran into an island in a fog.
+Everybody on board thought the ship was wrecked, but it had twin
+screws, and was going at such a tremendous speed that it turned the
+island entirely upside down and sailed over it, and he had heard tell
+that even now people sailing over the spot could look down into the
+water and see the roots of the trees and the cellars of the houses.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Captain Sanderson now put his pipe back into his mouth, and Captain
+Burress took out his pipe.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I was once in an obelisk-ship," said he, "that used to trade regular
+between Egypt and New York, carrying obelisks.  We had a big obelisk on
+board.  The way they ship obelisks is to make a hole in the stern of
+the ship, and run the obelisk in, p'inted end foremost; and this
+obelisk filled up nearly the whole of that ship from stern to bow.  We
+was about ten days out, and sailing afore a northeast gale with the
+engines at full speed, when suddenly we spied breakers ahead, and our
+captain saw we was about to run on a bank.  Now if we hadn't had an
+obelisk on board we might have sailed over that bank, but the captain
+knew that with an obelisk on board we drew too much water for this, and
+that we'd be wrecked in about fifty-five seconds if something wasn't
+done quick.  So he had to do something quick, and this is what he did:
+He ordered all steam on, and drove slam-bang on that bank.  Just as he
+expected, we stopped so suddint that that big obelisk bounced for'ard,
+its p'inted end foremost, and went clean through the bow and shot out
+into the sea.  The minute it did that the vessel was so lightened that
+it rose in the water and we then steamed over the bank.  There was one
+man knocked overboard by the shock when we struck, but as soon as we
+missed him we went back after him and we got him all right.  You see,
+when that obelisk went overboard, its butt-end, which was heaviest,
+went down first, and when it touched the bottom it just stood there,
+and as it was such a big obelisk there was about five and a half feet
+of it stuck out of the water.  The man who was knocked overboard he
+just swum for that obelisk and he climbed up the hiryglyphics.  It was
+a mighty fine obelisk, and the Egyptians had cut their hiryglyphics
+good and deep, so that the man could get hand and foot hold; and when
+we got to him and took him off, he was sitting high and dry on the
+p'inted end of that obelisk.  It was a great pity about the obelisk,
+for it was a good obelisk, but as I never heard the company tried to
+raise it, I expect it is standing there yet."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Captain Burress now put his pipe back into his mouth and looked at
+Captain Jenkinson, who removed his pipe and said:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The queerest thing that ever happened to me was about a shark.  We was
+off the Banks, and the time of year was July, and the ice was coming
+down, and we got in among a lot of it.  Not far away, off our weather
+bow, there was a little iceberg which had such a queerness about it
+that the captain and three men went in a boat to look at it.  The ice
+was mighty clear ice, and you could see almost through it, and right
+inside of it, not more than three feet above the water-line, and about
+two feet, or maybe twenty inches, inside the ice, was a whopping big
+shark, about fourteen feet long,&mdash;a regular man-eater,&mdash;frozen in there
+hard and fast.  'Bless my soul,' said the captain, 'this is a wonderful
+curiosity, and I'm going to git him out.'  Just then one of the men
+said he saw that shark wink, but the captain wouldn't believe him, for
+he said that shark was frozen stiff and hard and couldn't wink.  You
+see, the captain had his own idees about things, and he knew that
+whales was warm-blooded and would freeze if they was shut up in ice,
+but he forgot that sharks was not whales and that they're cold-blooded
+just like toads.  And there is toads that has been shut up in rocks for
+thousands of years, and they stayed alive, no matter how cold the place
+was, because they was cold-blooded, and when the rocks was split, out
+hopped the frog.  But, as I said before, the captain forgot sharks was
+cold-blooded, and he determined to git that one out.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Now you both know, being housekeepers, that if you take a needle and
+drive it into a hunk of ice you can split it.  The captain had a
+sail-needle with him, and so he drove it into the iceberg right
+alongside of the shark and split it.  Now the minute he did it he knew
+that the man was right when he said he saw the shark wink, for it
+flopped out of that iceberg quicker nor a flash of lightning."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What a happy fish he must have been!" ejaculated Dorcas, forgetful of
+precedent, so great was her emotion.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," said Captain Jenkinson, "it was a happy fish enough, but it
+wasn't a happy captain.  You see, that shark hadn't had anything to
+eat, perhaps for a thousand years, until the captain came along with
+his sail-needle."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Surely you sailormen do see strange things," now said the widow, "and
+the strangest thing about them is that they are true."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, indeed," said Dorcas, "that is the most wonderful thing."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You wouldn't suppose," said the Widow Ducket, glancing from one bench
+of mariners to the other, "that I have a sea-story to tell, but I have,
+and if you like I will tell it to you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Captain Bird looked up a little surprised.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We would like to hear it&mdash;indeed, we would, madam," said he.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ay, ay!" said Captain Burress, and the two other mariners nodded.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It was a good while ago," she said, "when I was living on the shore
+near the head of the bay, that my husband was away and I was left alone
+in the house.  One mornin' my sister-in-law, who lived on the other
+side of the bay, sent me word by a boy on a horse that she hadn't any
+oil in the house to fill the lamp that she always put in the window to
+light her husband home, who was a fisherman, and if I would send her
+some by the boy she would pay me back as soon as they bought oil.  The
+boy said he would stop on his way home and take the oil to her, but he
+never did stop, or perhaps he never went back, and about five o'clock I
+began to get dreadfully worried, for I knew if that lamp wasn't in my
+sister-in-law's window by dark she might be a widow before midnight.
+So I said to myself, 'I've got to get that oil to her, no matter what
+happens or how it's done.'  Of course I couldn't tell what might
+happen, but there was only one way it could be done, and that was for
+me to get into the boat that was tied to the post down by the water,
+and take it to her, for it was too far for me to walk around by the
+head of the bay.  Now, the trouble was, I didn't know no more about a
+boat and the managin' of it than any one of you sailormen knows about
+clear-starchin'.  But there wasn't no use of thinkin' what I knew and
+what I didn't know, for I had to take it to her, and there was no way
+of doin' it except in that boat.  So I filled a gallon can, for I
+thought I might as well take enough while I was about it, and I went
+down to the water and I unhitched that boat and I put the oil-can into
+her, and then I got in, and off I started, and when I was about a
+quarter of a mile from the shore&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Madam," interrupted Captain Bird, "did you row or&mdash;or was there a sail
+to the boat?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The widow looked at the questioner for a moment.  "No," said she, "I
+didn't row.  I forgot to bring the oars from the house; but it didn't
+matter, for I didn't know how to use them, and if there had been a sail
+I couldn't have put it up, for I didn't know how to use it, either.  I
+used the rudder to make the boat go.  The rudder was the only thing I
+knew anything about.  I'd held a rudder when I was a little girl, and I
+knew how to work it.  So I just took hold of the handle of the rudder
+and turned it round and round, and that made the boat go ahead, you
+know, and&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Madam!" exclaimed Captain Bird, and the other elderly mariners took
+their pipes from their mouths.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, that is the way I did it," continued the widow, briskly.  "Big
+steamships are made to go by a propeller turning round and round at
+their back ends, and I made the rudder work in the same way, and I got
+along very well, too, until suddenly, when I was about a quarter of a
+mile from the shore, a most terrible and awful storm arose.  There must
+have been a typhoon or a cyclone out at sea, for the waves came up the
+bay bigger than houses, and when they got to the head of the bay they
+turned around and tried to get out to sea again.  So in this way they
+continually met, and made the most awful and roarin' pilin' up of waves
+that ever was known.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"My little boat was pitched about as if it had been a feather in a
+breeze, and when the front part of it was cleavin' itself down into the
+water the hind part was stickin' up until the rudder whizzed around
+like a patent churn with no milk in it.  The thunder began to roar and
+the lightnin' flashed, and three sea-gulls, so nearly frightened to
+death that they began to turn up the whites of their eyes, flew down
+and sat on one of the seats of the boat, forgettin' in that awful
+moment that man was their nat'ral enemy.  I had a couple of biscuits in
+my pocket, because I had thought I might want a bite in crossing, and I
+crumpled up one of these and fed the poor creatures.  Then I began to
+wonder what I was goin' to do, for things were gettin' awfuller and
+awfuller every instant, and the little boat was a-heavin' and
+a-pitchin' and a-rollin' and h'istin' itself up, first on one end and
+then on the other, to such an extent that if I hadn't kept tight hold
+of the rudder-handle I'd slipped off the seat I was sittin' on.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"All of a sudden I remembered that oil in the can; but just as I was
+puttin' my fingers on the cork my conscience smote me.  'Am I goin' to
+use this oil,' I said to myself, 'and let my sister-in-law's husband be
+wrecked for want of it?'  And then I thought that he wouldn't want it
+all that night, and perhaps they would buy oil the next day, and so I
+poured out about a tumblerful of it on the water, and I can just tell
+you sailormen that you never saw anything act as prompt as that did.
+In three seconds, or perhaps five, the water all around me, for the
+distance of a small front yard, was just as flat as a table and as
+smooth as glass, and so invitin' in appearance that the three gulls
+jumped out of the boat and began to swim about on it, primin' their
+feathers and lookin' at themselves in the transparent depths, though I
+must say that one of them made an awful face as he dipped his bill into
+the water and tasted kerosene.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Now I had time to sit quiet in the midst of the placid space I had
+made for myself, and rest from workin' of the rudder.  Truly it was a
+wonderful and marvelous thing to look at.  The waves was roarin' and
+leapin' up all around me higher than the roof of this house, and
+sometimes their tops would reach over so that they nearly met and shut
+out all view of the stormy sky, which seemed as if it was bein' torn to
+pieces by blazin' lightnin', while the thunder pealed so tremendous
+that it almost drowned the roar of the waves.  Not only above and all
+around me was everything terrific and fearful, but even under me it was
+the same, for there was a big crack in the bottom of the boat as wide
+as my hand, and through this I could see down into the water beneath,
+and there was&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Madam!" ejaculated Captain Bird, the hand which, had been holding his
+pipe a few inches from his mouth now dropping to his knee; and at this
+motion the hands which held the pipes of the three other mariners
+dropped to their knees.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Of course it sounds strange," continued the widow, "but I know that
+people can see down into clear water, and the water under me was clear,
+and the crack was wide enough for me to see through, and down under me
+was sharks and swordfishes and other horrible water creatures, which I
+had never seen before, all driven into the bay, I haven't a doubt, by
+the violence of the storm out at sea.  The thought of my bein' upset
+and fallin' in among those monsters made my very blood run cold, and
+involuntary-like I began to turn the handle of the rudder, and in a
+moment I shot into a wall of ragin' sea-water that was towerin' around
+me.  For a second I was fairly blinded and stunned, but I had the cork
+out of that oil-can in no time, and very soon&mdash;you'd scarcely believe
+it if I told you how soon&mdash;I had another placid mill-pond surroundin'
+of me.  I sat there a-pantin' and fannin' with my straw hat, for you'd
+better believe I was flustered, and then I began to think how long it
+would take me to make a line of mill-ponds clean across the head of the
+bay, and how much oil it would need, and whether I had enough.  So I
+sat and calculated that if a tumblerful of oil would make a smooth
+place about seven yards across, which I should say was the width of the
+one I was in,&mdash;which I calculated by a measure of my eye as to how many
+breadths of carpet it would take to cover it,&mdash;and if the bay was two
+miles across betwixt our house and my sister-in-law's, and, although I
+couldn't get the thing down to exact figures, I saw pretty soon that I
+wouldn't have oil enough to make a level cuttin' through all those
+mountainous billows, and besides, even if I had enough to take me
+across, what would be the good of goin' if there wasn't any oil left to
+fill my sister-in-law's lamp?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"While I was thinkin' and calculatin' a perfectly dreadful thing
+happened, which made me think if I didn't get out of this pretty soon
+I'd find myself in a mighty risky predicament.  The oil-can, which I
+had forgotten to put the cork in, toppled over, and before I could grab
+it every drop of the oil ran into the hind part of the boat, where it
+was soaked up by a lot of dry dust that was there.  No wonder my heart
+sank when I saw this.  Glancin' wildly around me, as people will do
+when they are scared, I saw the smooth place I was in gettin' smaller
+and smaller, for the kerosene was evaporating as it will do even off
+woolen clothes if you give it time enough.  The first pond I had come
+out of seemed to be covered up, and the great, towerin', throbbin'
+precipice of sea-water was a-closin' around me.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Castin' down my eyes in despair, I happened to look through the crack
+in the bottom of the boat, and oh, what a blessed relief it was! for
+down there everything was smooth and still, and I could see the sand on
+the bottom, as level and hard, no doubt, as it was on the beach.
+Suddenly the thought struck me that that bottom would give me the only
+chance I had of gettin' out of the frightful fix I was in.  If I could
+fill that oil-can with air, and then puttin' it under my arm and takin'
+a long breath if I could drop down on that smooth bottom, I might run
+along toward shore, as far as I could, and then, when I felt my breath
+was givin' out, I could take a pull at the oil-can and take another
+run, and then take another pull and another run, and perhaps the can
+would hold air enough for me until I got near enough to shore to wade
+to dry land.  To be sure, the sharks and other monsters were down
+there, but then they must have been awfully frightened, and perhaps
+they might not remember that man was their nat'ral enemy.  Anyway, I
+thought it would be better to try the smooth water passage down there
+than stay and be swallowed up by the ragin' waves on top.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"So I blew the can full of air and corked it, and then I tore up some
+of the boards from the bottom of the boat so as to make a hole big
+enough for me to get through,&mdash;and you sailormen needn't wriggle so
+when I say that, for you all know a divin'-bell hasn't any bottom at
+all and the water never comes in,&mdash;and so when I got the hole big
+enough I took the oil-can under my arm, and was just about to slip down
+through it when I saw an awful turtle a-walkin' through the sand at the
+bottom.  Now, I might trust sharks and swordfishes and sea-serpents to
+be frightened and forget about their nat'ral enemies, but I never could
+trust a gray turtle as big as a cart, with a black neck a yard long,
+with yellow bags to its jaws, to forget anything or to remember
+anything.  I'd as lieve get into a bathtub with a live crab as to go
+down there.  It wasn't of no use even so much as thinkin' of it, so I
+gave up that plan and didn't once look through that hole again."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And what did you do, madam?" asked Captain Bird, who was regarding her
+with a face of stone.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I used electricity," she said "Now don't start as if you had a shock
+of it.  That's what I used.  When I was younger than I was then, and
+sometimes visited friends in the city, we often amused ourselves by
+rubbing our feet on the carpet until we got ourselves so full of
+electricity that we could put up our fingers and light the gas.  So I
+said to myself that if I could get full of electricity for the purpose
+of lightin' the gas I could get full of it for other purposes, and so,
+without losin' a moment, I set to work.  I stood up on one of the
+seats, which was dry, and rubbed the bottoms of my shoes backward and
+forward on it with such violence and swiftness that they pretty soon
+got warm and I began fillin' with electricity, and when I was fully
+charged with it from my toes to the top of my head, I just sprang into
+the water and swam ashore.  Of course I couldn't sink, bein' full of
+electricity."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Captain Bird heaved a long sigh and rose to his feet, whereupon the
+other mariners rose to their feet.  "Madam," said Captain Bird, "what's
+to pay for the supper and&mdash;the rest of the entertainment?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The supper is twenty-five cents apiece," said the Widow Ducket, "and
+everything else is free, gratis."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Whereupon each mariner put his hand into his trousers pocket, pulled
+out a silver quarter, and handed it to the widow.  Then, with four
+solemn "Good evenin's," they went out to the front gate.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Cast off, Captain Jenkinson," said Captain Bird, "and you, Captain
+Burress, clew him up for'ard.  You can stay in the bow, Captain
+Sanderson, and take the sheet-lines.  I'll go aft."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+All being ready, each of the elderly mariners clambered over a wheel,
+and having seated themselves, they prepared to lay their course for
+Cuppertown.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But just as they were about to start, Captain Jenkinson asked that they
+lay to a bit, and clambering down over his wheel, he reëntered the
+front gate and went up to the door of the house, where the widow and
+Dorcas were still standing.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Madam," said he, "I just came back to ask what became of your
+brother-in-law through his wife's not bein' able to put no light in the
+window?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The storm drove him ashore on our side of the bay," said she, "and the
+next mornin' he came up to our house, and I told him all that had
+happened to me.  And when he took our boat and went home and told that
+story to his wife, she just packed up and went out West, and got
+divorced from him.  And it served him right, too."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Thank you, ma'am," said Captain Jenkinson, and going out of the gate,
+he clambered up over the wheel, and the wagon cleared for Cuppertown.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When the elderly mariners were gone, the Widow Ducket, still standing
+in the door, turned to Dorcas.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Think of it!" she said.  "To tell all that to me, in my own house!
+And after I had opened my one jar of brandied peaches, that I'd been
+keepin' for special company!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"In your own house!" ejaculated Dorcas.  "And not one of them brandied
+peaches left!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The widow jingled the four quarters in her hand before she slipped them
+into her pocket.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Anyway, Dorcas," she remarked, "I think we can now say we are square
+with all the world, and so let's go in and wash the dishes."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," said Dorcas, "we're square."
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap08"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE COUNT AND THE WEDDING GUEST
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By O. HENRY
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+Copyright 1907 by McClure, Phillips &amp; Co.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+One evening when Andy Donovan went to dinner at his Second Avenue
+boarding-house, Mrs. Scott introduced him to a new boarder, a young
+lady, Miss Conway.  Miss Conway was small and unobtrusive.  She wore a
+plain, snuffy-brown dress, and bestowed her interest, which seemed
+languid, upon her plate.  She lifted her diffident eyelids and shot one
+perspicuous, judicial glance at Mr. Donovan, politely murmured his
+name, and returned to her mutton.  Mr. Donovan bowed with the grace and
+beaming smile that were rapidly winning for him social, business and
+political advancement, and erased the snuffy-brown one from the tablets
+of his consideration.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Two weeks later Andy was sitting on the front steps enjoying his cigar.
+There was a soft rustle behind and above him, and Andy turned his
+head&mdash;and had his head turned.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Just coming out the door was Miss Conway.  She wore a night-black dress
+of <I>crêpe de&mdash;crêpe de</I>&mdash;oh, this thin black goods.  Her hat was black,
+and from it drooped and fluttered an ebon veil, filmy as a spider's
+web.  She stood on the top step and drew on black silk gloves.  Not a
+speck of white or a spot of color about her dress anywhere.  Her rich
+golden hair was drawn, with scarcely a ripple, into a shining, smooth
+knot low on her neck.  Her face was plain rather than pretty, but it
+was now illuminated and made almost beautiful by her large gray eyes
+that gazed above the houses across the street into the sky with an
+expression of the most appealing sadness and melancholy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Gather the idea, girls&mdash;all black, you know, with the preference for
+<I>crêpe de</I>&mdash;oh, <I>crêpe de Chine</I>&mdash;that's it.  All black, and that sad,
+faraway look, and the hair shining under the black veil (you have to be
+a blonde, of course), and try to look as if, although your young life
+had been blighted just as it was about to give a hop-skip-and-a-jump
+over the threshold of life, a walk in the park might do you good, and
+be sure to happen out the door at the right moment, and&mdash;oh, it'll
+fetch 'em every time.  But it's fierce, now, how cynical I am, ain't
+it?&mdash;to talk about mourning costumes this way.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mr. Donovan suddenly reinscribed Miss Conway upon the tablets of his
+consideration.  He threw away the remaining inch-and-a-quarter of his
+cigar, that would have been good for eight minutes yet, and quickly
+shifted his center of gravity to his low-cut patent leathers.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's a fine, clear evening, Miss Conway," he said; and if the Weather
+Bureau could have heard the confident emphasis of his tones it would
+have hoisted the square white signal and nailed it to the mast.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"To them that has the heart to enjoy it, it is, Mr. Donovan," said Miss
+Conway, with a sigh.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mr. Donovan in his heart cursed fair weather.  Heartless weather!  It
+should hail and blow and snow to be consonant with the mood of Miss
+Conway.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I hope none of your relatives&mdash;I hope you haven't sustained a loss?"
+ventured Mr. Donovan.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Death has claimed," said Miss Conway, hesitating&mdash;"not a relative, but
+one who&mdash;but I will not intrude my grief upon you, Mr. Donovan."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Intrude?" protested Mr. Donovan.  "Why, say, Miss Conway, I'd be
+delighted, that is, I'd be sorry&mdash;I mean I'm sure nobody could
+sympathize with you truer than I would."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Miss Conway smiled a little smile.  And oh, it was sadder than her
+expression in repose.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Laugh, and the world laughs with you; weep, and they give you the
+laugh,'" she quoted.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I have learned that, Mr. Donovan.  I have no friends or acquaintances
+in this city.  But you have been kind to me.  I appreciate it highly."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had passed her the pepper twice at the table.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's tough to be alone in New York&mdash;that's a cinch," said Mr. Donovan.
+"But, say&mdash;whenever this little old town does loosen up and get
+friendly it goes the limit.  Say you took a little stroll in the park,
+Miss Conway&mdash;don't you think it might chase away some of your
+mullygrubs?  And if you'd allow me&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Thanks, Mr. Donovan.  I'd be pleased to accept of your escort if you
+think the company of one whose heart is filled with gloom could be
+anyways agreeable to you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Through the open gates of the iron-railed, old, downtown park, where
+the elect once took the air, they strolled and found a quiet bench.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There is this difference between the grief of youth and that of old
+age: youth's burden is lightened by as much of it as another shares;
+old age may give and give, but the sorrow remains the same.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He was my fiancé," confided Miss Conway, at the end of an hour.  "We
+were going to be married next spring.  I don't want you to think that I
+am stringing you, Mr. Donovan, but he was a real Count.  He had an
+estate and a castle in Italy.  Count Fernando Mazzini was his name.  I
+never saw the beat of him for elegance.  Papa objected, of course, and
+once we eloped, but papa overtook us, and took us back.  I thought sure
+papa and Fernando would fight a duel.  Papa has a livery business&mdash;in
+P'kipsee, you know.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Finally, papa came around all right, and said we might be married next
+spring.  Fernando showed him proofs of his title and wealth, and then
+went over to Italy to get the castle fixed up for us.  Papa's very
+proud, and when Fernando wanted to give me several thousand dollars for
+my trousseau he called him down something awful.  He wouldn't even let
+me take a ring or any presents from him.  And when Fernando sailed I
+came to the city and got a position as cashier in a candy store.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Three days ago I got a letter from Italy, forwarded from P'kipsee,
+saying that Fernando had been killed in a gondola accident.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That is why I am in mourning.  My heart, Mr. Donovan, will remain
+forever in his grave.  I guess I am poor company, Mr. Donovan, but I
+can not take any interest in no one.  I should not care to keep you
+from gaiety and your friends who can smile and entertain you.  Perhaps
+you would prefer to walk back to the house?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now, girls, if you want to observe a young man hustle out after a pick
+and shovel, just tell him that your heart is in some other fellow's
+grave.  Young men are grave-robbers by nature.  Ask any widow.
+Something must be done to restore that missing organ to weeping girls
+in <I>crêpe de Chine</I>.  Dead men certainly got the worse of it from all
+sides.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm awful sorry," said Mr. Donovan gently.  "No, we won't walk back to
+the house just yet.  And don't say you haven't no friends in this city,
+Miss Conway.  I'm awful sorry, and I want you to believe I'm your
+friend, and that I'm awful sorry."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I've got his picture here in my locket," said Miss Conway, after
+wiping her eyes with her handkerchief.  "I never showed it to anybody,
+but I will to you, Mr. Donovan, because I believe you to be a true
+friend."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mr. Donovan gazed long and with much interest at the photograph in the
+locket that Miss Conway opened for him.  The face of Count Mazzini was
+one to command interest.  It was a smooth, intelligent, bright, almost
+a handsome face&mdash;the face of a strong, cheerful man who might well be a
+leader among his fellows.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I have a larger one, framed, in my room," said Miss Conway.  "When we
+return I will show you that.  They are all I have to remind me of
+Fernando.  But he ever will be present in my heart, that's a sure
+thing."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A subtle task confronted Mr. Donovan&mdash;that of supplanting the
+unfortunate Count in the heart of Miss Conway.  This his admiration for
+her determined him to do.  But the magnitude of the undertaking did not
+seem to weigh upon his spirits.  The sympathetic but cheerful friend
+was the role he essayed, and he played it so successfully that the next
+half-hour found them conversing pensively across two plates of
+ice-cream, though yet there was no diminution of the sadness in Miss
+Conway's large gray eyes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Before they parted in the hall that evening she ran upstairs and
+brought down the framed photograph wrapped lovingly in a white silk
+scarf.  Mr. Donovan surveyed it with inscrutable eyes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He gave me this the night he left for Italy," said Miss Conway.  "I
+had one for the locket made from this."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A fine-looking man," said Mr. Donovan heartily.  "How would it suit
+you, Miss Conway, to give me the pleasure of your company to Coney next
+Sunday afternoon?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A month later they announced their engagement to Mrs. Scott and the
+other boarders.  Miss Conway continued to wear black.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A week after the announcement the two sat on the same bench in the
+downtown park, while the fluttering leaves of the trees made a dim
+kinetoscopic picture of them in the moonlight.  But Donovan had worn a
+look of abstracted gloom all day.  He was so silent to-night that
+love's lips could not keep back any longer the questions that love's
+heart propounded.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What's the matter, Andy, you are so solemn and grouchy to-night?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Nothing, Maggie."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I know better.  Can't I tell?  You never acted this way before.  What
+is it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's nothing much, Maggie."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes it is, and I want to know.  I'll bet it's some other girl you are
+thinking about.  All right.  Why don't you go and get her if you want
+her?  Take your arm away, if you please."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'll tell you then," said Andy wisely; "but I guess you won't
+understand it exactly.  You've heard of Mike Sullivan, haven't you?
+'Big Mike' Sullivan, everybody calls him."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, I haven't," said Maggie.  "And I don't want to, if he makes you
+act like this.  Who is he?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He's the biggest man in New York," said Andy, almost reverently.  "He
+can do about anything he wants to with Tammany or any other old thing
+in the political line.  He's a mile high and as broad as East River.
+You say anything against Big Mike and you'll have a million men on your
+collarbone in about two seconds.  Why, he made a visit over to the old
+country awhile back, and the kings took to their holes like rabbits.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, Big Mike's a friend of mine.  I ain't more than deuce-high in
+the district as far as influence goes, but Mike's as good a friend to a
+little man, or a poor man, as he is to a big one.  I met him to-day on
+the Bowery, and what do you think he does?  Comes up and shakes hands.
+'Andy,' says he, 'I've been keeping cases on you.  You've been putting
+in some good licks over on your side of the street, and I'm proud of
+you.  What'll you take to drink?'  He takes a cigar, and I take a
+highball.  I told him I was going to get married in two weeks.  'Andy,'
+says he, 'send me an invitation, so I'll keep in mind of it, and I'll
+come to the wedding.'  That's what Big Mike says to me; and he always
+does what he says.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You don't understand it, Maggie, but I'd have one of my hands cut off
+to have Big Mike Sullivan at our wedding.  It would be the proudest day
+of my life.  When he goes to a man's wedding there's a guy being
+married that's made for life.  Now, that's why I've maybe been looking
+sore to-night."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why don't you invite him, then, if he's so much to the mustard?" said
+Maggie lightly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There's a reason why I can't," said Andy sadly.  "There's a reason why
+he mustn't be there.  Don't ask me what it is, for I can't tell you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, I don't care," said Maggie.  "It's something about politics, of
+course.  But it's no reason why you can't smile at me."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Maggie," said Andy presently, "do you think as much of me as you did
+of your&mdash;as you did of the Count Mazzini?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He waited a long time, but Maggie did not reply.  And then, suddenly
+she leaned against his shoulder and began to cry&mdash;to cry and shake with
+sobs, holding his arm tightly and wetting the <I>crêpe de Chine</I> with
+tears.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There, there, there!" soothed Andy, putting aside his own trouble.
+"And what is it now?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Andy," sobbed Maggie, "I've lied to you and you'll never marry me, or
+love me any more.  But I feel that I've got to tell.  Andy, there never
+was so much as the little finger of a count.  I never had a beau in my
+life.  But all the other girls had, and they talked about 'em, and that
+seemed to make the fellows like 'em more.  And, Andy, I look swell in
+black&mdash;you know I do.  So I went out to a photograph store and bought
+that picture, and had a little one made for my locket, and made up all
+that story about the Count and about his being killed, so I could wear
+black.  And nobody can love a liar and you'll shake me, Andy, and I'll
+die for shame.  Oh, there never was anybody I liked but you&mdash;and that's
+all."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But instead of being pushed away she found Andy's arm folding her
+closely.  She looked up and saw his face cleared and smiling.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Could you&mdash;could you forgive me, Andy?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Sure," said Andy.  "It's all right about that.  Back to the cemetery
+for the Count.  You've straightened everything out, Maggie.  I was in
+hopes you would before the wedding-day.  Bully girl!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Andy," said Maggie with a somewhat shy smile, after she had been
+thoroughly assured of forgiveness, "did you believe all that story
+about the Count?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, not to any large extent," said Andy, reaching for his
+cigar-case; "because it's Big Mike Sullivan's picture you've got in
+that locket of yours."
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap09"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+MISS TOOKER'S WEDDING GIFT
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+Copyright 1909 by J. B. Lippincott Company.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+I
+</H4>
+
+<P>
+Van Buren tossed his gloves impatiently on the table, removed his
+overcoat, and sat down before the fire.  He was apparently deeply
+concerned about something, for when Niki, his Japanese valet, entered
+the room and placed the whisky and soda on the little table at his
+side, Van Buren paid no more attention to him than he would to a
+vagrant sunmote that crossed his path.  Long and steadily he gazed into
+the broad fireplace, watching the dancing flames at play, pausing only
+to light his pipe, upon which he pulled fiercely.  Finally he spoke,
+leaning forward and to all intents and purposes addressing the andirons.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Confound the money!" he said impatiently.  "I wish to thunder the
+Governor had left it to some orphan asylum or to found a Chair in
+Choctaw at some New England university, instead of to me&mdash;then I might
+have made something of myself.  Here am I twenty-seven years old and
+all the fame I ever got came from leading cotillions at Newport, and my
+sole contribution to the common weal has consisted of the fines I've
+paid into the public treasury for exceeding the speed limit.  Life!
+I've seen a lot of it&mdash;haven't I, in this empty social shell I've been
+born into!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He paused for a moment and poured a stiff four fingers of whisky into a
+glass at his side.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Bah!" he shuddered as the odor of it greeted his nostrils.  "You're a
+poor kind of fuel for such an engine as I might have been if I'd been
+started on the right track.  By Jove!  Ethel is right.  What good am I?
+What have I ever done to make myself worth while or to show that I have
+any character in me that is a jot better than that of any of the rest
+of our poor stenciled, gold-plated society."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He looked at the glass and made a wry face.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'll cut <I>you</I> out anyhow," he said, pushing the liquor away from him.
+"That's something.  Niki!" he called.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The inscrutable Niki obeyed the summons on the word.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Take that stuff away and hereafter don't bring it unless I call for
+it," said Van Buren.  "Any letters?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"One," said Niki.  "A messenger brought him at eight o'clock.  I get
+it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Niki went to the escritoire and picked up the little square of blue
+envelope lying thereon and handed it to Van Buren.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Thank you, Niki.  You may go now&mdash;I can get along without you
+until&mdash;well, say noon to-morrow.  Good night."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Good night," said Niki, and withdrew noiselessly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Humph!" ejaculated Van Buren.  "Even he is worth more to the world
+than I am.  He does something, even if it is only for me, which is more
+than I can do.  I don't seem to be able to do anything even for myself."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+With a sigh of discontent, Van Buren poked the fire for moment and then
+settled himself in the armchair, holding the letter before his eyes as
+he did so.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"From Ethel," he said.  "Probably my death-warrant.  Oh, well&mdash;why not?
+If she won't have me, she won't, that's all.  Only one more drop of
+bitters in my cocktail.  I may as well read it anyhow.  It's like a
+cold plunge, and I hate to take it, but&mdash;here goes."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He tore open the envelope and, extracting the note, read it:
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+Dear Harry&mdash;I have been thinking things over since you left me this
+afternoon and I have changed my mind.  [Van Buren's eyes lighted with
+hope.]  I <I>do</I> care for you, but I can not see much happiness ahead for
+either of us unless one or the other of us changes radically.  It may
+be my fault, but I can not forget that if I married a man I should want
+always to be proud of him, and ambitious for his success in the world.
+If I were not ambitious, I could be proud of you just as you are, for I
+know you for the fine fellow that you are.  While you do none of the
+things that I should love to have my future husband do, you at least do
+none of those other things that men make a practise of, and that mean
+so much misery for their womenkind, whether they show it or not.  But,
+dear Harry, why can you not make yourself more of a man than you are?
+Why be content with just the splendid foundation, and let it lie,
+gradually disintegrating because you have failed to rear upon it some
+kind of a superstructure that would be in keeping with what rests
+beneath?  You can&mdash;I know you can&mdash;and that is why I have decided to
+withdraw what appeared to be my final answer of this afternoon, and, if
+you want it, to give you another chance.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"<I>If</I> I want it!" ejaculated Van Buren.  "Lord knows how I want it!"
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+Come to me at the end of a year and show me the record of something
+accomplished, that lifts you out this awful social rut we have all
+managed to get into, and my "no" of this afternoon may be turned into a
+"yes," and the misery of my heart be turned to joy.  Of course you will
+say that it is all very easy for me to write this, and to tell you to
+go out and do something, but that the hard thing would be to tell you
+what to go out and do&mdash;and you will be perfectly right.  General advice
+is the easiest thing in the world, but the specific, constructive
+suggestion is very different.  So I will give you the specific
+suggestion, and it is this: Why do you not write a novel?  You used in
+your days at Harvard to write clever skits for the "Lampoon," and one
+or two of your little stories in the "Advocate" showed that you at
+least know how to put words and sentences together in a pleasing way,
+even if the themes of your stories were slight and the plots not very
+intricate.  Do this, Harry.  Surely with your experience in life you
+can think of something to write about.  Apply yourself to this work
+during the coming year, and when your book is published and has proven
+a success, come to me again, and maybe I shall have some good news to
+tell you.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It may be, dear Harry, that you will not think it worth while.  For
+myself, I hardly think the prize is worth the winning, but you seem to
+feel differently about that, if I may judge from what you said this
+afternoon, and you did seem to mean it all, every word of it, you poor
+boy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We shall meet, of course, as frequently as ever, but until the year is
+up, and that a year of achievement, you must not speak of the matter
+again, and must regard me as I shall hope in any event always to remain,
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+Your devoted friend,<BR>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;ETHEL TOOKER.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+Van Buren laughed nervously, as he finished the letter, and again lit
+his pipe, which had gone out while he read.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Write a novel, eh?" he muttered with a grin.  "A nice, easy task that.
+A hundred and fifty thousand words, all meaning something.  Ah me!  Why
+the dickens wasn't I born in an age when knighthood was in flower and
+my Lady Fayre set Sir Hubert some easy task like putting on a tin suit
+and going out on the highway and swatting another potted Sir Bedivere
+on the head with an antique ax?  The Quest of the Golden Fleece was an
+easy stunt alongside of writing a novel these times, and I fear I'm
+more of a Jason than a Henry James!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He turned to his desk, and the next five minutes were devoted to the
+writing of an acknowledgment of Miss Tooker's letter.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+I thank you for your suggestion [he wrote], and I truly think it will
+bear thinking over.  Any suggestion that makes for the realization of
+my fondest hopes will bear thinking over, and I am going to do what I
+can.  I wish you had set me an easier task, however, like getting
+myself appointed Ambassador to England, or Excise Commissioner, for
+honestly I do not feel the call of the pen.  Nevertheless, my dearest
+Ethel, just to prove to you how honestly devoted to you I am, I shall
+to-morrow lay in a stock of pads, a brand new pen, and a new Roosevelt
+Dictionary to guide me into the short cut to success via the Reformed
+Spelling Route.  I have already got my leading characters&mdash;my heroine
+and my hero.  She is the sweetest, fairest, dearest girl in the world,
+and is to be named Ethel.  The hero is to be a miserable, down-and-out
+young cub of a millionaire who, having been brought up in a hot-house
+atmosphere, never had a chance when exposed to the chilling blasts of
+the world.  She, of course, will redeem poor Harry&mdash;that is to be my
+hero's name&mdash;from the pitfalls of bridge, Newport, and the demon Rum.
+And, of course, she will marry him in the end.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+Ever your devoted<BR>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;HARRY.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P>
+P. S.  As expressive of my real feelings, my story will be written in
+blue ink.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+II
+</H4>
+
+<P>
+Late one evening, six months later, Van Buren rose wearily from his
+desk, but with a light of triumph in his eye.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There!" he said.  "That is done.  'The City of Credit' is at last <I>un
+fait accompli</I>.  One hundred and thirty-seven thousand five hundred and
+sixty-seven words, and all about Newport, with a bit of the life of its
+thriving suburbs, New York and Boston, thrown in to relieve the
+sordidness of it all."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He gazed affectionately at the pile of manuscript before him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It hasn't been half bad, after all," he said.  "The first ten thousand
+words came like water from a fire hose, the second ten thousand were
+pure dentistry, tooth-pulling extraordinary, and the rest of it&mdash;well,
+it is queer how when you get interested in shoveling coal how easy it
+all seems.  And now for the hardest end of the job.  To find a
+publisher who is weak-minded enough to print it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This indeed proved much the hardest part of Van Buren's work, for the
+reluctance of the large publishing houses of New York and Boston to
+place their imprint upon the title-page of "The City of Credit" became
+painfully evident to the youthful author.  The manuscript came back to
+Van Buren with a frequency that was more than ominous.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I think," he remarked ruefully to himself upon the occasion of its
+sixth rejection, "that I have discovered the principle of perpetual
+motion.  If there were only enough publishers in the world to last
+through all eternity, I could keep this manuscript going forever."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Days passed and with no glimmer of hope, until one morning at a time
+when "The City of Credit" was about due for its thirteenth reappearance
+on his desk Van Buren found in its stead a letter from Hutchins &amp;
+Waterbury, of Boston, apprising him of the fact that his novel had been
+read and was so well liked that "our Mr. Waterbury will be pleased to
+have Mr. Van Buren call to discuss a possible arrangement under which
+the firm would be willing to undertake its publication."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Good Lord!" cried Van Buren as he read the letter over for the third
+time, even then barely crediting the possibilities of success that now
+loomed before him.  "And Boston people, too!  Will I call!  Niki, pack
+my suit-case at once, and engage a seat for me on the Knickerbocker
+Limited."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The following morning an interview between "our Mr. Waterbury" and Van
+Buren took place in the firm's private office on Tremont Street,
+Boston.  It appeared that while the readers of the firm of Hutchins &amp;
+Waterbury had unanimously condemned the book, Mr. Waterbury, himself,
+having read it, rather thought it might have a living chance.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Some portions of your narrative are brilliant, and some of them are
+otherwise, Mr. Van Buren," said Mr. Waterbury frankly.  "But
+considering the authorship of the book and that it is a description of
+Newport life by one who is a part of its innermost circle, I am
+inclined to think it will prove interesting to the public.  Your
+picture of the social wheels within wheels is so intimate, and I judge
+so accurate, that it would attract attention."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am glad you think so," said Van Buren, with a dry throat&mdash;the idea
+that his book might be published after all was really overpowering.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"On the other hand, the judgment of our readers is so unanimously
+adverse that Mr. Hutchins and I feel the need of proceeding cautiously.
+Now, what would you say to our publishing the book on&mdash;ah&mdash;on your
+account, as it were?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You want me to&mdash;" began Van Buren.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"To pay for the plates and advertising," said Mr. Waterbury.  "We will
+stand for the paper and the binding, and will act as your agents in the
+distribution of the book, accounting to you for every copy printed and
+sold."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Is&mdash;is that quite <I>en regle</I>?" asked Van Buren dubiously.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is quite customary," replied Mr. Waterbury.  "In fact, ninety per
+cent of our business is conducted upon that basis."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I see," said Van Buren.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You hand us your check for twenty-five hundred dollars to cover the
+expenses I have specified," continued the astute publisher, "and we
+will publish your book, allowing you a royalty of fifty per cent on
+every copy sold."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I suppose the first edition would be&mdash;" said Van Buren hesitatingly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Five hundred copies," said Waterbury.  "The smaller your first
+edition, the sooner you are likely to go into a second, and, as you
+know, it is a great advantage for a book to go into a second edition
+quickly, if only for advertising purposes.  Think it over, and let me
+know this afternoon if you can.  I have to leave for Chicago to-night,
+and if we are to have 'The City of Credit' ready for the autumn trade,
+we should begin work on it right away."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I understand," said Van Buren.  "Well&mdash;I&mdash;I guess it's all right.
+It's only the principle of the thing&mdash;but if, as you say, it is quite
+customary&mdash;why, yes.  I'll give you my check now.  Do you want it
+certified?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That will not be at all necessary, Mr. Van Buren," said Waterbury
+magnanimously.  "We are quite aware that your own signature to a check
+is a sufficient certification."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The afternoon train for Newport carried Van Buren back to the social
+capital with a contract in his pocket, signed by Messrs. Hutchins &amp;
+Waterbury, assuring the early publication of "The City of Credit," but
+in view of certain of its financial stipulations, jubilant as he was
+over the success of his first real step toward fame, Van Buren did not
+show it to Miss Tooker, as he might have done had it contained no
+reference to a check on the Tenth National Bank of New York calling for
+the payment of two thousand five hundred dollars to the Boston firm of
+publishers.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+III
+</H4>
+
+<P>
+In September "The City of Credit" was published, and widely advertised
+by Messrs. Hutchins &amp; Waterbury, and Van Buren took particular pains to
+secure the first copy from the press and to send it by messenger with a
+suitable inscription and a note to Miss Tooker.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I send you my book," he wrote, "not because I think it is worth
+reading, but for the double purpose of showing you that I have tried my
+best to fulfil your wishes, and to assure the work of at least the
+circulation of one copy.  It has all of my heart in it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For one reason or another, doubtless because there were quite five
+hundred other novels of a similar character put forth about the same
+time, by the end of October the world had not yet been consumed by any
+conflagration of Van Buren's lighting.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The book hangs fire," said Mr. Waterbury when Van Buren called upon
+him at his Boston office to inquire how things were going.  "We printed
+five hundred copies, and this morning's report shows two hundred and
+thirty still on hand.  A hundred and sixty were sent for review."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I wish they hadn't been," said Van Buren, with a rueful smile.  "They
+have provided just one hundred and sixty separate pieces of fuel for
+the critics to roast me with.  Have there been any favorable reviews of
+the book?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"None that I have seen&mdash;but don't you worry about that," replied Mr.
+Waterbury comfortingly.  "It's the counting-room, not the critics, that
+tell the story.  Something may happen yet to pull us out."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What, for instance?" asked Van Buren
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, I don't know," said Waterbury.  "You might do something
+sensational and get it in the papers.  That would help.  It's up to
+you, Mr. Van Buren."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I guess I'm all in," said Van Buren to himself as he walked down
+Tremont Street.  "Up to me to do something&mdash;by Jove!" he interrupted
+himself abruptly.  He had suddenly espied a copy of "The City of
+Credit" in a shop window.  "Up to me, is it?  Well, I think I shall
+rise to the occasion and not by doing anything sensational either."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He entered the shop.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I want six copies of 'The City of Credit,'" he said quietly to the
+salesman.  "It's a first-class story.  Much of a demand for it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No," said the salesman.  "We have only the window copy, and we've had
+that over a month.  I can get them for you, however."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"All right," said Van Buren.  "Just send them to Charles H. Harney, The
+Helicon Club, New York.  I'll pay for them now."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Van Buren paid his bill, and, returning to the street, hailed a hansom.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Take me to some good book-shop," he said to the cabby.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Instanter he was whirled around into Winter Street, where stands one of
+Boston's most famous literary distributing centers.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Have you 'The City of Credit'?" he asked the salesman.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I think we have a copy in stock," replied the latter.  "If we haven't,
+we can get it for you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Do so, please," said Van Buren.  "I want a dozen copies&mdash;send them by
+express to Charles H. Harney, The Helicon Club, New York.  How much?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's a dollar and a half book, I think," said the clerk.  "The
+discount will make it $1.20&mdash;a dozen, did you say?  Twenty-five cents
+expressage&mdash;that will make it $14.65."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Van Buren paid up without a whimper.  Once in the hansom again, he
+called up through the little hole in the top.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Isn't there any other book-shop in town where I can get what I want?"
+he demanded.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There's a dozen of 'em," replied the cabby.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then go to them all," said Van Buren.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That night when Van Buren started for New York he had purchased a
+hundred and fifty copies of "The City of Credit," and had ordered them
+all to be addressed to the clerk at the Helicon Club, with whom, upon
+his arrival in town, he arranged for their immediate reshipment to the
+Harrison Safety Deposit Storage Company on Forty-second Street.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'm going to have my happiness, if I have to buy it," Van Buren
+muttered doggedly, as he crept into bed shortly after midnight.  And
+then, tossing sleeplessly in his bed and at last rejoicing in the
+possession of his late father's millions to back him in his enterprise,
+he laid the foundations of a plan comparable only to that of the Wheat
+King who corners the market, or the man of Cotton who loads himself up
+with more bales of that useful commodity than all the fertile acres of
+the South could raise in seven seasons.  Orders were despatched by wire
+and by mail to all the booksellers in the land whose names and
+addresses Van Buren could get hold of.  Department stores were put
+under contribution and their stock commandeered, and one of the biggest
+booms in the whole history of literature set in.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The City of Credit" went into its second, fifth, twentieth, fiftieth
+large edition.  Hutchins &amp; Waterbury wrote Van Buren stating that a
+sudden turn in the market had made his book one of the six best sellers
+not only of this century but of all centuries.  Their presses were
+seething to the point of white heat with the copies of "The City of
+Credit" needed to supply the demand; their binders were working day and
+night with a double force, and their shipping department was pretty
+nearly swamped with the strain put upon it.  "Your royalty check on
+January 1st will be the fattest in the land," wrote Waterbury in a
+moment of enthusiasm.  "We are thinking of sending our staff of readers
+to the lunatic asylum and getting an entirely new set.  An order for
+four thousand has come in from Chicago this morning.  St. Louis wants
+fifteen hundred, and pretty nearly every other able-bodied town in the
+country is asking for from one to one hundred and fifty."  By Christmas
+time, if the publishers' announcements were to be believed, "The City
+of Credit" had attained to the enormous sale of three hundred and fifty
+thousand, and Van Buren was in receipt of a letter from a literary
+periodical asking for his photograph for publication in its February
+issue.  This brought him a realization of the fact that he might now
+fairly claim to be considered a literary success.  At any rate, he felt
+that he had now a right to approach Miss Tooker with a fair prospect of
+receiving from her a favorable answer to the question which she had a
+year before left an open one.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And events showed that his feeling was justified, for two days later he
+enjoyed the blissful sensation of finding himself the accepted lover of
+the woman he had tried so hard to please.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Is it to be&mdash;yes?" he whispered, as they sat together in the
+conservatory of her father's city house.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It has&mdash;always been&mdash;yes," she replied softly, and then what happened
+is not for your eyes or mine.  Suffice it to say that Van Buren moved
+immediately from sordid old New York to become a dweller in the higher
+altitudes of Elysium.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Incidentally the boom in "The City of Credit" stopped almost as
+suddenly as it had begun.  There was nobody apparently who felt called
+upon to throw in the necessary number of dollars to sustain an already
+over-stimulated market, which puzzled Messrs. Hutchins &amp; Waterbury
+exceedingly.  They had hoped to live for the balance of their days upon
+the profits of their World's Best Seller.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+IV
+</H4>
+
+<P>
+As the spring approached and the day set for Miss Tooker's wedding to
+Van Buren came nearer, the latter found himself daily becoming more and
+more a prey to conscience.  There was a decidedly large fly in the
+amber of his happiness, for as he viewed the part he had played in the
+forced success of "The City of Credit" he began to see it in its true
+light.  The first of March brought him his royalty check from Hutchins
+&amp; Waterbury, and it was, as had been predicted, gratifyingly large, and
+reduced materially what he had called his "campaign expenses."  In the
+same mail, however, was a bill from the Storage Company, in one of
+whose spacious chambers there reposed more copies of his novel than he
+liked to think of&mdash;over 250,000&mdash;the actual sales had been 260,000 in
+spite of the published announcements of a higher figure.  The firm had
+thirty or forty thousand on hand, printed in a moment of confident
+enthusiasm when the flurry was at its height.  Both communications
+brought before Van Buren's mind's eye all too vividly the specter of
+his duplicity, and he was too much of a man of conscience to be able to
+put it lightly aside.  He tried to console himself with the idea that
+all is fair in love and war, but he could not, and his remorse caused
+him many a sleepless night.  Finally&mdash;it was on the eve of the posting
+of the wedding invitations&mdash;scruple overcame him, and he resolved that
+he could not honestly lead his bride to the altar with such a record of
+deceit upon his escutcheon, especially in view of the fact that it was
+through this deceit that his happiness had been won.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is better to lose her before the ceremony than after it," he told
+himself, and, bitter though the confidence might be, he made up his
+mind to tell Miss Tooker everything.  "Only, I must break it gently,"
+he observed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+With this difficult errand in mind, he called upon his fiancée, and,
+after the usual greeting, he started in on his confession.  He had
+hardly begun it, however, when his courage failed him, and with the
+oozing of that his words failed him also.  He did have the courage,
+however, to seek to reveal the exact situation in another way.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ethel dear," he said, awkwardly fumbling his gloves, "I want to show
+you something.  I have a&mdash;a little surprise for you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The girl eyed him narrowly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"For me?" she said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," he answered.  "The fact is, it's&mdash;it's a sort of wedding present
+I have for you, and I think you ought to see it before&mdash;well, <I>now</I>.
+Will you go?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Miss Tooker was interested at once, and, taking a hansom, they were
+driven to the Harrison Storage Warehouse on Forty-second Street Arrived
+there, Van Buren led her to the elevator and thence up to the small
+room in which lay the corroding and tell-tale packages&mdash;an enormous
+bulk&mdash;that were slowly but surely eating up his happiness.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, Harry!" she cried as she gazed in bewilderment at the huge pile
+of unopened bundles.  "Are these all for me?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," gulped Van Buren, his face flaming.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But&mdash;what do they contain?" she asked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Two hundred and fifty thousand copies of my&mdash;my book&mdash;'The City of
+Credit,'" said Van Buren, his eyes cast down.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You mean that you&mdash;" she began.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, it's exactly that, Ethel.  I&mdash;I bought 'em all to&mdash;well, to boom
+the sales and to&mdash;make a name for myself in the world," he said
+sheepishly, "or rather for you&mdash;but I suppose now that you know&mdash;-"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then all this tremendous sale was arranged between you and your
+publishers to deceive me?" she asked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Not at all," protested the unhappy Van Buren.  "On the contrary, I did
+it all myself.  Hutchins &amp; Waterbury don't know any more about it than
+you did an hour ago.  No one knows&mdash;except you and I."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Van Buren paused.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I could not let you marry me without knowing what I had done," he
+said.  "It would not be fair to&mdash;to our future."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Tell me all about it," she said quietly, and Van Buren made his
+confession complete.  He told her of his interview with Waterbury&mdash;how
+the latter had told him his book had fallen flat; how it was "up to
+him" to do something; how a sight of a single copy of "The City of
+Credit" in the Tremont Street shop window had tempted him first into a
+retail fall which had grown ultimately into a wholesale "crime"&mdash;as he
+put it.  He did not spare himself in the least degree, humiliating as
+the narration of his story was to him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I suppose it is all up with me now," he said ruefully, when he had
+finished.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I don't know," said Ethel quietly.  "I don't know, Harry.  Perhaps.
+Take me home, please.  I want to show you something."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The drive back to the Tooker mansion was taken in silence.  Van Buren
+despised himself too strongly to be able to speak, and Miss Tooker had
+fallen into a deep reverie which the poor fellow at her side feared
+meant irrevocable ruin to his hopes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Come in," said Miss Tooker gravely, as the cab drew up at the house.
+"I want to take you up into our attic storeroom, and then ask you a
+plain question, Harry, and then I want you to answer that question
+simply and truthfully."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Marveling much, Van Buren permitted himself to be led to the topmost
+floor of Miss Tooker's house.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Look in there," said she, opening the door of the storeroom.  "Do you
+see those packages?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," he said.  "They look very much like mine, only they're fewer."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Do you know what they contain?" she asked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Books?" queried Van Buren, entering the room and tapping one of the
+bundles.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes&mdash;yours&mdash;your books&mdash;five thousand three hundred and ten copies of
+'The City of Credit,' Harry," she said, with a rueful smile.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You&mdash;" he ejaculated hoarsely.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, I bought them all.  Some in Newport, some in New York, some at
+Lenox&mdash;oh, everywhere!  Now, tell me this," she interrupted.  "Do you
+suppose that I would condemn you for doing on a large scale what I have
+been doing on a smaller scale ever since last November?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A ray of hope dawned in Van Buren's eyes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ethel!" he cried, seising her by the hand.  "You bought all those&mdash;for
+me?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I certainly did, Harry," she said quietly.  "With my pin money, and my
+bridge money and all the other kinds of money that I could wheedle out
+of my dear old daddy.  But answer me.  Have I the right to sit in
+judgment on you&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Not by a long shot!" cried Van Buren.  "It would be an act of the most
+consummate hypocrisy."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That is the way I look at it, dear," she whispered, and then&mdash;well,
+all I have to say is that I don't believe anything like what happened
+at that precise moment ever happened in an attic storeroom before.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And the wedding invitations were mailed that very evening.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap10"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE FABLE OF THE TWO MANDOLIN PLAYERS <BR>
+AND THE WILLING PERFORMER
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By GEORGE ADE
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+Copyright 1899 by Herbert S. Stone &amp; Co.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+A very attractive Débutante knew two Young Men, who called on her every
+Thursday Evening and brought their Mandolins along.  They were
+Conventional Young Men, of the Kind that you see wearing Spring
+Overcoats in the Clothing Advertisements.  One was named Fred, and the
+other was Eustace.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Mothers of the Neighborhood often remarked "What Perfect Manners
+Fred and Eustace have!"  Merely as an aside it may be added that Fred
+and Eustace were more Popular with the Mothers than they were with the
+Younger Set, although no one could say a Word against either of them.
+Only it was rumored in Keen Society that they didn't Belong.  The Fact
+that they went Calling in a Crowd, and took their Mandolins along, may
+give the Acute Reader some Idea of the Life that Fred and Eustace held
+out to the Young Women of their Acquaintance.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Débutante's name was Myrtle.  Her Parents were very Watchful, and
+did not encourage her to receive Callers, except such as were known to
+be Exemplary Young Men.  Fred and Eustace were a few of those who
+escaped the Black List.  Myrtle always appeared to be glad to see them,
+and they regarded her as a Darned Swell Girl.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Fred's Cousin came from St. Paul on a Visit; and one Day, in the
+Street, he saw Myrtle, and noticed that Fred tipped his Hat, and gave
+her a Stage Smile.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, Queen of Sheba!" exclaimed the Cousin from St. Paul, whose name
+was Gus, as he stood stock still and watched Myrtle's Reversible Plaid
+disappear around a Corner.  "She's a Bird.  Do you know her well?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I know her Quite Well," replied Fred, coldly.  "She is a Charming
+Girl."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"She is all of that.  You're a great Describer.  And now what Night are
+you going to take me around to Call on her?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Fred very naturally Hemmed and Hawed.  It must be remembered that
+Myrtle was a member of an Excellent Family, and had been schooled in
+the Proprieties, and it was not to be supposed that she would crave the
+Society of slangy old Gus, who had an abounding Nerve, and furthermore
+was as Fresh as the Mountain Air.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He was the Kind of Fellow who would see a Girl twice, and then, upon
+meeting her the Third Time, he would go up and straighten her Cravat
+for her, and call her by her First Name.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Put him into a Strange Company&mdash;en route to a Picnic&mdash;and by the time
+the Baskets were unpacked he would have a Blonde all to himself, and
+she would have traded her Fan for his College Pin.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+If a Fair-Looker on the Street happened to glance at him Hard he would
+run up and seize her by the Hand, and convince her that they had Met.
+And he always Got Away with it, too.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In a Department Store, while awaiting for the Cash Boy to come back
+with the Change, he would find out the Girl's Name, her Favorite
+Flower, and where a Letter would reach her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Upon entering a Parlor Car at St. Paul he would select a Chair next to
+the Most Promising One in Sight, and ask her if she cared to have the
+Shade lowered.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Before the Train cleared the Yards he would have the Porter bringing a
+Foot-Stool for the Lady.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At Hastings he would be asking her if she wanted Something to Read.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At Red Wing he would be telling her that she resembled Maxine Elliott,
+and showing her his Watch, left to him by his Grandfather, a Prominent
+Virginian.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At La Crosse he would be reading the Menu Card to her, and telling her
+how different it is when you have Some One to join you in a Bite.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At Milwaukee he would go out and buy a Bouquet for her, and when they
+rode into Chicago they would be looking but of the same Window, and he
+would be arranging for her Baggage with the Transfer Man.  After that
+they would be Old Friends.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Now, Fred and Eustace had been at School with Gus, and they had seen
+his Work, and they were not disposed to Introduce him into One of the
+most Exclusive Homes in the City.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They had known Myrtle for many Years; but they did not dare to Address
+her by her First Name, and they were Positive that if Gus attempted any
+of his usual Tactics with her she would be Offended; and, naturally
+enough, they would be Blamed for bringing him to the House.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But Gus insisted.  He said he had seen Myrtle, and she Suited him from
+the Ground up, and he proposed to have Friendly Doings with her.  At
+last they told him they would take him if he promised to Behave.  Fred
+warned him that Myrtle would frown down any Attempt to be Familiar on
+Short Acquaintance, and Eustace said that as long as he had known
+Myrtle he had never Presumed to be Free and Forward with her.  He had
+simply played the Mandolin.  That was as Far Along as he had ever got.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Gus told them not to Worry about him.  All he asked was a Start.  He
+said he was a Willing Performer, but as yet he never had been
+Disqualified for Crowding.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Fred and Eustace took this to mean that he would not Overplay his
+Attentions, so they escorted him to the House.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As soon as he had been Presented, Gus showed her where to sit on the
+Sofa, then he placed himself about Six Inches away and began to Buzz,
+looking her straight in the Eye.  He said that when he first saw her he
+Mistook her for Miss Prentice, who was said to be the Most Beautiful
+Girl in St. Paul, only, when he came closer, he saw that it couldn't be
+Miss Prentice, because Miss Prentice didn't have such Lovely Hair.
+Then he asked her the Month of her Birth and told her Fortune, thereby
+coming nearer to Holding her Hand within Eight Minutes than Eustace had
+come in a Lifetime.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Play something, Boys," he Ordered, just as if he had paid them Money
+to come along and make Music for him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They unlimbered their Mandolins and began to play a Sousa March.  He
+asked Myrtle if she had seen the New Moon.  She replied that she had
+not, so they went Outside.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When Fred and Eustace finished the first Piece, Gus appeared at the
+open Window, and asked them to play "The Georgia Camp-Meeting," which
+had always been one of his Favorites.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So they played that, and when they had Concluded there came a Voice
+from the Outer Darkness, and it was the Voice of Myrtle.  She said:
+"I'll tell you what to Play; play the Intermezzo."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Fred and Eustace exchanged Glances.  They began to Perceive that they
+had been backed into a Siding.  With a few Potted Palms in front of
+them, and two Cards from the Union, they would have been just the same
+as a Hired Orchestra.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But they played the Intermezzo and felt Peevish.  Then they went to the
+Window and looked out.  Gus and Myrtle were sitting in the Hammock,
+which had quite a Pitch toward the Center.  Gus had braced himself by
+Holding to the back of the Hammock.  He did not have his Arm around
+Myrtle, but he had it Extended in a Line parallel with her Back.  What
+he had done wouldn't Justify a Girl in saying, "Sir!" but it started a
+Real Scandal with Fred and Eustace.  They saw that the Only Way to Get
+Even with her was to go Home without saying "Good Night."  So they
+slipped out the Side Door, shivering with Indignation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After that, for several Weeks, Gus kept Myrtle so Busy that she had no
+Time to think of considering other Candidates.  He sent Books to her
+Mother, and allowed the Old Gentleman to take Chips away from him at
+Poker.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They were Married in the Autumn, and Father-in-Law took Gus into the
+Firm, saying that he had needed a good Pusher for a Long Time.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At the Wedding the two Mandolin Players were permitted to act as Ushers.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+MORAL: <I>To get a fair Trial of Speed use a Pace-Maker</I>.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap11"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE FABLE OF THE PREACHER WHO FLEW HIS KITE, <BR>
+BUT NOT BECAUSE HE WISHED TO DO SO
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By GEORGE ADE
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+Copyright 1899 by Herbert S. Stone &amp; Co.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+A certain Preacher became wise to the Fact that he was not making a Hit
+with his Congregation.  The Parishioners did not seem inclined to seek
+him out after Services and tell him he was a Pansy.  He suspected that
+they were Rapping him on the Quiet.  The Preacher knew there must be
+something wrong with his Talk.  He had been trying to Expound in a
+clear and straightforward Manner, omitting Foreign Quotations, setting
+up for illustration of his Points such Historical Characters as were
+familiar to his Hearers, putting the stubby Old English words ahead of
+the Latin, and rather flying low along the Intellectual Plane of the
+Aggregation that chipped in to pay his Salary.  But the Pew-Holders
+were not tickled.  They could Understand everything he said, and they
+began to think he was Common.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So he studied the Situation and decided that if he wanted to Win them
+and make everybody believe he was a Nobby and Boss Minister he would
+have to hand out a little Guff.  He fixed it up Good and Plenty.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+On the following Sunday Morning he got up in the Lookout and read a
+Text that didn't mean anything, read from either Direction, and then he
+sized up his Flock with a Dreamy Eye and said: "We can not more
+adequately voice the Poetry and Mysticism of our Text than in those
+familiar Lines of the great Icelandic Poet, Ikon Navrojk:
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"To hold is not to have&mdash;<BR>
+Under the seared Firmament,<BR>
+Where Chaos sweeps, and Vast Futurity<BR>
+Sneers at these puny Aspirations&mdash;<BR>
+There is the full Reprisal."<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+When the Preacher concluded this Extract from the Well-Known Icelandic
+Poet he paused and looked downward, breathing heavily through his Nose,
+like Camille in the Third Act.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A Stout Woman in the Front Row put on her Eye-Glasses and leaned
+forward so as not to miss Anything.  A Venerable Harness Dealer over at
+the Right nodded his Head solemnly.  He seemed to recognize the
+Quotation.  Members of the Congregation glanced at one another as if to
+say: "This is certainly Hot Stuff!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Preacher wiped his Brow and said he had no Doubt that every one
+within the Sound of his Voice remembered what Quarolius had said,
+following the same Line of Thought.  It was Quarolius who disputed the
+Contention of the great Persian Theologian Ramtazuk, that the Soul in
+its reaching out after the Unknowable was guided by the Spiritual
+Genesis of Motive rather than by mere Impulse of Mentality.  The
+Preacher didn't know what all This meant, and he didn't care, but you
+can rest easy that the Pew-Holders were On in a minute.  He talked it
+off in just the Way that Cyrano talks when he gets Roxane so Dizzy that
+she nearly falls off the Piazza.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Parishioners bit their Lower Lips and hungered for more First-Class
+Language.  They had paid their Money for Tall Talk and were prepared to
+solve any and all styles of Delivery.  They held on to the Cushions and
+seemed to be having a Nice Time.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Preacher quoted copiously from the Great Poet Amebius.  He recited
+18 lines of Greek and then said: "How true this is!"  And not a
+Parishioner batted an Eye.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was Amebius whose Immortal Lines he recited in order to prove the
+Extreme Error of the Position assumed in the Controversy by the Famous
+Italian, Polenta.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had them Going, and there wasn't a Thing to it.  When he would get
+tired of faking Philosophy he would quote from a Celebrated Poet of
+Ecuador or Tasmania or some other Seaport Town.  Compared with this
+Verse, all of which was of the same School as the Icelandic
+Masterpiece, the most obscure and clouded Passage in Robert Browning
+was like a Plate-Glass Front in a State Street Candy Store just after
+the Colored Boy gets through using the Chamois.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After that he became Eloquent, and began to get rid of long Boston
+Words that hadn't been used before that Season.  He grabbed a
+rhetorical Roman Candle in each Hand and you couldn't see him for the
+Sparks.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After which he sank his Voice to a Whisper and talked about the Birds
+and the Flowers.  Then, although there was no Cue for him to Weep, he
+shed a few real Tears.  And there wasn't a dry Glove in the church.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After he sat down he could tell by the Scared Look of the People in
+Front that he had made a Ten-Strike.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Did they give him the Joyous Palm that Day?  Sure!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Stout Lady could not control her Feelings when she told how much
+the Sermon had helped her.  The venerable Harness Dealer said he wished
+to indorse the Able and Scholarly Criticism of Polenta.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In fact, every one said the Sermon was Superfine and Dandy.  The only
+thing that worried the Congregation was the Fear that if it wished to
+retain such a Whale it might have to boost his Salary.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In the Meantime the Preacher waited for some one to come and ask about
+Polenta, Amebius, Ramtazuk, Quarolius and the great Icelandic Poet,
+Navrojk.  But no one had the Face to step up and confess his Ignorance
+of these Celebrities.  The Pew-Holders didn't even admit among
+themselves that the Preacher had rung in some New Ones.  They stood
+Pat, and merely said it was an Elegant Sermon.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Perceiving that they would stand for Anything, the Preacher knew what
+to do after that.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+MORAL: <I>Give the People what they Think they want</I>.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap12"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE SHADOWS ON THE WALL
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By MARY E. WILKINS FREEMAN
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+Copyright 1903 by Doubleday, Page &amp; Co.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"Henry had words with Edward in the study the night before Edward
+died," said Caroline Glynn.  She was elderly, tall, and harshly thin,
+with a hard colourlessness of face.  She spoke not with acrimony, but
+with grave severity.  Rebecca Ann Glynn, younger, stouter and rosy of
+face between her crinkling puffs of gray hair, gasped, by way of
+assent.  She sat in a wide flounce of black silk in the corner of the
+sofa, and rolled terrified eyes from her sister Caroline to her sister
+Mrs. Stephen Brigham, who had been Emma Glynn, the one beauty of the
+family.  She was beautiful still, with a large, splendid, full-blown
+beauty; she filled a great rocking-chair with her superb bulk of
+femininity, and swayed gently back and forth, her black silks
+whispering and her black frills fluttering.  Even the shock of death
+(for her brother Edward lay dead in the house,) could not disturb her
+outward serenity of demeanour.  She was grieved over the loss of her
+brother: he had been the youngest, and she had been fond of him, but
+never had Emma Brigham lost sight of her own importance amidst the
+waters of tribulation.  She was always awake to the consciousness of
+her own stability in the midst of vicissitudes and the splendour of her
+permanent bearing.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But even her expression of masterly placidity changed before her sister
+Caroline's announcement and her sister Rebecca Ann's gasp of terror and
+distress in response.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I think Henry might have controlled his temper, when poor Edward was
+so near his end," said she with an asperity which disturbed slightly
+the roseate curves of her beautiful mouth.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Of course he did not <I>know</I>," murmured Rebecca Ann in a faint tone
+strangely out of keeping with her appearance.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+One involuntarily looked again to be sure that such a feeble pipe came
+from that full-swelling chest.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Of course he did not know it," said Caroline quickly.  She turned on
+her sister with a strange sharp look of suspicion.  "How could he have
+known it?" said she.  Then she shrank as if from the other's possible
+answer.  "Of course you and I both know he could not," said she
+conclusively, but her pale face was paler than it had been before.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Rebecca gasped again.  The married sister, Mrs. Emma Brigham, was now
+sitting up straight in her chair; she had ceased rocking, and was
+eyeing them both intently with a sudden accentuation of family likeness
+in her face.  Given one common intensity of emotion and similar lines
+showed forth, and the three sisters of one race were evident.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What do you mean?" said she impartially to them both.  Then she, too,
+seemed to shrink before a possible answer.  She even laughed an evasive
+sort of laugh.  "I guess you don't mean anything," said she, but her
+face wore still the expression of shrinking horror.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Nobody means anything," said Caroline firmly.  She rose and crossed
+the room toward the door with grim decisiveness.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Where are you going?" asked Mrs. Brigham.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I have something to see to," replied Caroline, and the others at once
+knew by her tone that she had some solemn and sad duty to perform in
+the chamber of death.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh," said Mrs. Brigham.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After the door had closed behind Caroline, she turned to Rebecca.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Did Henry have many words with him?" she asked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"They were talking very loud," replied Rebecca evasively, yet with an
+answering gleam of ready response to the other's curiosity in the quick
+lift of her soft blue eyes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mrs. Brigham looked at her.  She had not resumed rocking.  She still
+sat up straight with a slight knit of intensity on her fair forehead,
+between the pretty rippling curves of her auburn hair.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Did you&mdash;hear anything?" she asked in a low voice with a glance toward
+the door.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I was just across the hall in the south parlour, and that door was
+open and this door ajar," replied Rebecca with a slight flush.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then you must have&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I couldn't help it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Everything?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Most of it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What was it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The old story."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I suppose Henry was mad, as he always was, because Edward was living
+on here for nothing, when he had wasted all the money father left him."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Rebecca nodded with a fearful glance at the door.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When Emma spoke again her voice was still more hushed.  "I know how he
+felt," said she.  "He had always been so prudent himself, and worked
+hard at his profession, and there Edward had never done anything but
+spend, and it must have looked to him as if Edward was living at his
+expense, but he wasn't."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, he wasn't."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It was the way father left the property&mdash;that all the children should
+have a home here&mdash;and he left money enough to buy the food and all if
+we had all come home."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And Edward had a right here according to the terms of father's will,
+and Henry ought to have remembered it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, he ought."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Did he say hard things?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Pretty hard from what I heard."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I heard him tell Edward that he had no business here at all, and he
+thought he had better go away."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What did Edward say?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That he would stay here as long as he lived and afterward, too, if he
+was a mind to, and he would like to see Henry get him out; and then&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then he laughed."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What did Henry say?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I didn't hear him say anything, but&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But what?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I saw him when he came out of this room."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He looked mad?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You've seen him when he looked so."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Emma nodded; the expression of horror on her face had deepened.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Do you remember that time he killed the cat because she had scratched
+him?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes.  Don't!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then Caroline reëntered the room.  She went up to the stove in which a
+wood fire was burning&mdash;it was a cold, gloomy day of fall&mdash;and she
+warmed her hands, which were reddened from recent washing in cold water.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mrs. Brigham looked at her and hesitated.  She glanced at the door,
+which was still ajar, as it did not easily shut, being still swollen
+with the damp weather of the summer.  She rose and pushed it together
+with a sharp thud, which jarred the house.  Rebecca started painfully
+with a half exclamation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Caroline looked at her disapprovingly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is time you controlled your nerves, Rebecca," said she.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I can't help it," replied Rebecca with almost a wail.  "I am nervous.
+There's enough to make me so, the Lord knows."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What do you mean by that?" asked Caroline with her old air of sharp
+suspicion, and something between challenge and dread of its being met.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Rebecca shrank.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Nothing," said she.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then I wouldn't keep speaking in such a fashion."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Emma, returning from the closed door, said imperiously that it ought to
+be fixed, it shut so hard.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It will shrink enough after we have had the fire a few days," replied
+Caroline.  "If anything is done to it it will be too small; there will
+be a crack at the sill."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I think Henry ought to be ashamed of himself for talking as he did to
+Edward," said Mrs. Brigham abruptly, but in an almost inaudible voice.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hush!" said Caroline, with a glance of actual fear at the closed door.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Nobody can hear with the door shut."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He must have heard it shut, and&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, I can say what I want to before he comes down, and I am not
+afraid of him."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I don't know who is afraid of him!  What reason is there for anybody
+to be afraid of Henry?" demanded Caroline.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mrs. Brigham trembled before her sister's look.  Rebecca gasped again.
+"There isn't any reason, of course.  Why should there be?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I wouldn't speak so, then.  Somebody might overhear you and think it
+was queer.  Miranda Joy is in the south parlour sewing, you know."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I thought she went upstairs to stitch on the machine."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"She did, but she has come down again."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, she can't hear."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I say again, I think Henry ought to be ashamed of himself.  I
+shouldn't think he'd ever get over it, having words with poor Edward
+the very night before he died.  Edward was enough sight better
+disposition than Henry, with all his faults.  I always thought a great
+deal of poor Edward, myself."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mrs. Brigham passed a large fluff of handkerchief across her eyes;
+Rebecca sobbed outright.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Rebecca," said Caroline admonishingly, keeping her mouth stiff and
+swallowing determinately.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I never heard him speak a cross word, unless he spoke cross to Henry
+that last night.  I don't know but he did, from what Rebecca
+overheard," said Emma.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Not so much cross as sort of soft, and sweet, and aggravating,"
+sniffled Rebecca.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He never raised his voice," said Caroline; "but he had his way."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He had a right to in this case."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, he did."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He had as much of a right here as Henry," sobbed Rebecca, "and now
+he's gone, and he will never be in this home that poor father left him
+and the rest of us again."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What do you really think ailed Edward?" asked Emma in hardly more than
+a whisper.  She did not look at her sister.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Caroline sat down in a nearby armchair, and clutched the arms
+convulsively until her thin knuckles whitened.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I told you," said she.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Rebecca held her handkerchief over her mouth, and looked at them above
+it with terrified, streaming eyes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I know you said that he had terrible pains in his stomach, and had
+spasms, but what do you think made him have them?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Henry called it gastric trouble.  You know Edward has always had
+dyspepsia."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mrs. Brigham hesitated a moment.  "Was there any talk of
+an&mdash;examination?" said she.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then Caroline turned on her fiercely.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No," said she in a terrible voice.  "No."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The three sisters' souls seemed to meet on one common ground of
+terrified understanding through their eyes.  The old-fashioned latch of
+the door was heard to rattle, and a push from without made the door
+shake ineffectually.  "It's Henry," Rebecca sighed rather than
+whispered.  Mrs. Brigham settled herself after a noiseless rush.
+Across the floor into her rocking-chair again, and was swaying back and
+forth with her head comfortably leaning back, when the door at last
+yielded and Henry Glynn entered.  He cast a covertly sharp,
+comprehensive glance at Mrs. Brigham with her elaborate calm; at
+Rebecca quietly huddled in the corner of the sofa with her handkerchief
+to her face and only one small reddened ear as attentive as a dog's
+uncovered and revealing her alertness for his presence; at Caroline
+sitting with a strained composure in her armchair by the stove.  She
+met his eyes quite firmly with a look of inscrutable fear, and defiance
+of the fear and of him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Henry Glynn looked more like this sister than the others.  Both had the
+same hard delicacy of form and feature, both were tall and almost
+emaciated, both had a sparse growth of gray blond hair far back from
+high intellectual foreheads, both had an almost noble aquilinity of
+feature.  They confronted each other with the pitiless immovability of
+two statues in whose marble lineaments emotions were fixed for all
+eternity.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then Henry Glynn smiled and the smile transformed his face.  He looked
+suddenly years younger, and an almost boyish recklessness and
+irresolution appeared in his face.  He flung himself into a chair with
+a gesture which was bewildering from its incongruity with his general
+appearance.  He leaned his head back, flung one leg over the other, and
+looked laughingly at Mrs. Brigham.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I declare, Emma, you grow younger every year," he said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She flushed a little, and her placid mouth widened at the corners.  She
+was susceptible to praise.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Our thoughts to-day ought to belong to the one of us who will <I>never</I>
+grow older," said Caroline in a hard voice.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Henry looked at her, still smiling.  "Of course, we none of us forget
+that," said he, in a deep, gentle voice, "but we have to speak to the
+living, Caroline, and I have not seen Emma for a long time, and the
+living are as dear as the dead."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Not to me," said Caroline.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She rose, and went abruptly out of the room again.  Rebecca also rose
+and hurried after her, sobbing loudly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Henry looked slowly after them.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Caroline is completely unstrung," said he.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mrs. Brigham rocked.  A confidence in him inspired by his manner was
+stealing over her.  Out of that confidence she spoke quite easily and
+naturally.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"His death was very sudden," said she.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Henry's eyelids quivered slightly but his gaze was unswerving.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes," said he; "it was very sudden.  He was sick only a few hours."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What did you call it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Gastric."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You did not think of an examination?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There was no need.  I am perfectly certain as to the cause of his
+death."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Suddenly Mrs. Brigham felt a creep as of some live horror over her very
+soul.  Her flesh prickled with cold, before an inflection of his voice.
+She rose, tottering on weak knees.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Where are you going?" asked Henry in a strange, breathless voice.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mrs. Brigham said something incoherent about some sewing which she had
+to do, some black for the funeral, and was out of the room.  She went
+up to the front chamber which she occupied.  Caroline was there.  She
+went close to her and took her hands, and the two sisters looked at
+each other.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Don't speak, don't, I won't have it!" said Caroline finally in an
+awful whisper.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I won't," replied Emma.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That afternoon the three sisters were in the study, the large front
+room on the ground floor across the hall from the south parlour, when
+the dusk deepened.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mrs. Brigham was hemming some black material.  She sat close to the
+west window for the waning light.  At last she laid her work on her lap.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's no use, I cannot see to sew another stitch until we have a
+light," said she.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Caroline, who was writing some letters at the table, turned to Rebecca,
+in her usual place on the sofa.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Rebecca, you had better get a lamp," she said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Rebecca started up; even in the dusk her face showed her agitation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It doesn't seem to me that we need a lamp quite yet," she said in a
+piteous, pleading voice like a child's.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, we do," returned Mrs. Brigham peremptorily.  "We must have a
+light.  I must finish this to-night or I can't go to the funeral, and I
+can't see to sew another stitch."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Caroline can see to write letters, and she is farther from the window
+than you are," said Rebecca.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Are you trying to save kerosene or are you lazy, Rebecca Glynn?" cried
+Mrs. Brigham.  "I can go and get the light myself, but I have this work
+all in my lap."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Caroline's pen stopped scratching.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Rebecca, we must have the light," said she.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Had we better have it in here?" asked Rebecca weakly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Of course!  Why not?" cried Caroline sternly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am sure I don't want to take my sewing into the other room, when it
+is all cleaned up for to-morrow," said Mrs. Brigham.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, I never heard such a to-do about lighting a lamp."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Rebecca rose and left the room.  Presently she entered with a lamp&mdash;a
+large one with a white porcelain shade.  She set it on a table, an
+old-fashioned card-table which was placed against the opposite wall
+from the window.  That wall was clear of bookcases and books, which
+were only on three sides of the room.  That opposite wall was taken up
+with three doors, the one small space being occupied by the table.
+Above the table on the old-fashioned paper, of a white satin gloss,
+traversed by an indeterminate green scroll, hung quite high a small
+gilt and black-framed ivory miniature taken in her girlhood of the
+mother of the family.  When the lamp was set on the table beneath it,
+the tiny pretty face painted on the ivory seemed to gleam out with a
+look of intelligence.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What have you put that lamp over there for?" asked Mrs. Brigham, with
+more of impatience than her voice usually revealed.  "Why didn't you
+set it in the hall and have done with it?  Neither Caroline nor I can
+see if it is on that table."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I thought perhaps you would move," replied Rebecca hoarsely.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If I do move, we can't both sit at that table.  Caroline has her paper
+all spread around.  Why don't you set the lamp on the study table in
+the middle of the room, then we can both see?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Rebecca hesitated.  Her face was very pale.  She looked with an appeal
+that was fairly agonizing at her sister Caroline.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why don't you put the lamp on this table, as she says?" asked
+Caroline, almost fiercely.  "Why do you act so, Rebecca?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I should think you <I>would</I> ask her that," said Mrs. Brigham.  "She
+doesn't act like herself at all."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Rebecca took the lamp and set it on the table in the middle of the room
+without another word.  Then she turned her back upon it quickly and
+seated herself on the sofa, and placed a hand over her eyes as if to
+shade them, and remained so.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Does the light hurt your eyes, and is that the reason why you didn't
+want the lamp?" asked Mrs. Brigham kindly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I always like to sit in the dark," replied Rebecca chokingly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then she snatched her handkerchief hastily from her pocket and began to
+weep.  Caroline continued to write, Mrs. Brigham to sew.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Suddenly Mrs. Brigham as she sewed glanced at the opposite wall.  The
+glance became a steady stare.  She looked intently, her work suspended
+in her hands.  Then she looked away again and took a few more stitches,
+then she looked again, and again turned to her task.  At last she laid
+her work in her lap and stared concentratedly.  She looked from the
+wall around the room, taking note of the various objects; she looked at
+the wall long and intently.  Then she turned to her sisters.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What <I>is</I> that?" said she.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What?" asked Caroline harshly; her pen scratched loudly across the
+paper.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Rebecca gave one of her convulsive gasps.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That strange shadow on the wall," replied Mrs. Brigham.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Rebecca sat with her face hidden: Caroline dipped her pen in the
+inkstand.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why don't you turn around and look?" asked Mrs. Brigham in a wondering
+and somewhat aggrieved way.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am in a hurry to finish this letter, if Mrs. Wilson Ebbit is going
+to get word in time to come to the funeral," replied Caroline shortly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mrs. Brigham rose, her work slipping to the floor, and she began
+walking around the room, moving various articles of furniture, with her
+eyes on the shadow.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then suddenly she shrieked out:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Look at this awful shadow!  What is it?  Caroline, look, look!
+Rebecca, look!  <I>What is it</I>?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+All Mrs. Brigham's triumphant placidity was gone.  Her handsome face
+was livid with horror.  She stood stiffly pointing at the shadow.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Look!" said she, pointing her finger at it.  "Look!  What is it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then Rebecca burst out in a wild wail after a shuddering glance at the
+wall:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, Caroline, there it is again!  There it is again!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Caroline Glynn, you look!" said Mrs. Brigham.  "Look!  What is that
+dreadful shadow?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Caroline rose, turned, and stood confronting the wall.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How should I know?" she said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It has been there every night since he died," cried Rebecca.&mdash;"Every
+night?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes.  He died Thursday and this is Saturday; that makes three nights,"
+said Caroline rigidly.  She stood as if holding herself calm with a
+vise of concentrated will.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It&mdash;it looks like&mdash;like&mdash;&mdash;" stammered Mrs. Brigham in a tone of
+intense horror.&mdash;"I know what it looks like well enough," said
+Caroline.  "I've got eyes in my head."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It looks like Edward," burst out Rebecca in a sort of frenzy of fear.
+"Only&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, it does," assented Mrs. Brigham, whose horror-stricken tone
+matched her sister's, "only&mdash;&mdash;  Oh, it is awful!  What is it,
+Caroline?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I ask you again, how should I know?" replied Caroline.  "I see it
+there like you.  How should I know any more than you?"&mdash;"It <I>must</I> be
+something in the room," said Mrs. Brigham, staring wildly around.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We moved everything in the room the first night it came," said
+Rebecca; "it is not anything in the room."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Caroline turned upon her with a sort of fury.  "Of course it is
+something in the room," said she.  "How you act!  What do you mean by
+talking so?  Of course it is something in the room."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Of course, it is," agreed Mrs. Brigham, looking at Caroline
+suspiciously.  "Of course it must be.  It is only a coincidence.  It
+just happens so.  Perhaps it is that fold of the window curtain that
+makes it.  It must be something in the room."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is not anything in the room," repeated Rebecca with obstinate
+horror.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The door opened suddenly and Henry Glynn entered.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He began to speak, then his eyes followed the direction of the others'.
+He stood stock still staring at the shadow on the wall.  It was life
+size and stretched across the white parallelogram of a door, half
+across the wall space on which the picture hung.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What is that?" he demanded in a strange voice.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It must be due to something in the room," Mrs. Brigham said faintly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is not due to anything in the room," said Rebecca again with the
+shrill insistency of terror.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How you act, Rebecca Glynn," said Caroline.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Henry Glynn stood and stared a moment longer.  His face showed a gamut
+of emotions&mdash;horror, conviction, then furious incredulity.  Suddenly he
+began hastening hither and thither about the room.  He moved the
+furniture with fierce jerks, turning ever to see the effect upon the
+shadow on the wall.  Not a line of its terrible outlines wavered.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It must be something in the room!" he declared in a voice which seemed
+to snap like a lash.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His face changed.  The inmost secrecy of his nature seemed evident
+until one almost lost sight of his lineaments.  Rebecca stood close to
+her sofa, regarding him with woeful, fascinated eyes.  Mrs. Brigham
+clutched Caroline's hand.  They both stood in a corner out of his way.
+For a few moments he raged about the room like a caged wild animal.  He
+moved every piece of furniture; when the moving of a piece did not
+affect the shadow, he flung it to the floor, the sisters watching.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then suddenly he desisted.  He laughed and began straightening the
+furniture which he had flung down.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What an absurdity," he said easily.  "Such a to-do about a shadow."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That's so," assented Mrs. Brigham, in a scared voice which she tried
+to make natural.  As she spoke she lifted a chair near her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I think you have broken the chair that Edward was so fond of," said
+Caroline.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Terror and wrath were struggling for expression on her face.  Her mouth
+was set, her eyes shrinking.  Henry lifted the chair with a show of
+anxiety.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Just as good as ever," he said pleasantly.  He laughed again, looking
+at his sisters.  "Did I scare you?" he said.  "I should think you might
+be used to me by this time.  You know my way of wanting to leap to the
+bottom of a mystery, and that shadow does look&mdash;queer, like&mdash;and I
+thought if there was any way of accounting for it I would like to
+without any delay."&mdash;"You don't seem to have succeeded," remarked
+Caroline dryly, with a slight glance at the wall.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Henry's eyes followed hers and he quivered perceptibly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, there is no accounting for shadows," he said, and he laughed
+again.  "A man is a fool to try to account for shadows."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then the supper bell rang, and they all left the room, but Henry kept
+his back to the wall, as did, indeed, the others.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mrs. Brigham pressed close to Caroline as she crossed the hall.  "He
+looked like a demon!" she breathed in her ear.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Henry led the way with an alert motion like a boy; Rebecca brought up
+the rear; she could scarcely walk, her knees trembled so.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I can't sit in that room again this evening," she whispered to
+Caroline after supper.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Very well, we will sit in the south room," replied Caroline.  "I think
+we will sit in the south parlour," she said aloud; "it isn't as damp as
+the study, and I have a cold."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So they all sat in the south room with their sewing.  Henry read the
+newspaper, his chair drawn close to the lamp on the table.  About nine
+o'clock he rose abruptly and crossed the hall to the study.  The three
+sisters looked at one another.  Mrs. Brigham rose, folded her rustling
+skirts compactly around her, and began tiptoeing toward the door.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What are you going to do?" inquired Rebecca agitatedly.&mdash;"I am going
+to see what he is about," replied Mrs. Brigham cautiously.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She pointed as she spoke to the study door across the hall; it was
+ajar.  Henry had striven to pull it together behind him, but it had
+somehow swollen beyond the limit with curious speed.  It was still ajar
+and a streak of light showed from top to bottom.  The hall lamp was not
+lit.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You had better stay where you are," said Caroline with guarded
+sharpness.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am going to see," repeated Mrs. Brigham firmly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then she folded her skirts so tightly that her bulk with its swelling
+curves was revealed in a black silk sheath, and she went with a slow
+toddle across the hall to the study door.  She stood there, her eye at
+the crack.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In the south room Rebecca stopped sewing and sat watching with dilated
+eyes.  Caroline sewed steadily.  What Mrs. Brigham, standing at the
+crack in the study door, saw was this:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Henry Glynn, evidently reasoning that the source of the strange shadow
+must be between the table on which the lamp stood and the wall, was
+making systematic passes and thrusts all over and through the
+intervening space with an old sword which had belonged to his father.
+Not an inch was left unpierced.  He seemed to have divided the space
+into mathematical sections.  He brandished the sword with a sort of
+cold fury and calculation; the blade gave out flashes of light, the
+shadow remained unmoved.  Mrs. Brigham, watching, felt herself cold
+with horror.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Finally Henry ceased and stood with the sword in hand and raised as if
+to strike, surveying the shadow on the wall threateningly.  Mrs.
+Brigham toddled back across the hall and shut the south room door
+behind her before she related what she had seen.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"He looked like a demon!" she said again.  "Have you got any of that
+old wine in the house, Caroline?  I don't feel as if I could stand much
+more."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Indeed, she looked overcome.  Her handsome placid face was worn and
+strained and pale.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, there's plenty," said Caroline; "you can have some when you go to
+bed."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I think we had all better take some," said Mrs. Brigham.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, my God, Caroline, what&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Don't ask and don't speak," said Caroline.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, I am not going to," replied Mrs. Brigham; "but&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Rebecca moaned aloud.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What are you doing that for?" asked Caroline harshly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Poor Edward," returned Rebecca.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That is all you have to groan for," said Caroline.  "There is nothing
+else."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am going to bed," said Mrs. Brigham.  "I sha'n't be able to be at
+the funeral if I don't."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Soon the three sisters went to their chambers and the south parlour was
+deserted.  Caroline called to Henry in the study to put out the light
+before he came upstairs.  They had been gone about an hour when he came
+into the room bringing the lamp which had stood in the study.  He set
+it on the table and waited a few minutes, pacing up and down.  His face
+was terrible, his fair complexion showed livid; his blue eyes seemed
+dark blanks of awful reflections.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then he took the lamp up and returned to the library.  He set the lamp
+on the centre table, and the shadow sprang out on the wall.  Again he
+studied the furniture and moved it about, but deliberately, with none
+of his former frenzy.  Nothing affected the shadow.  Then he returned
+to the south room with the lamp and again waited.  Again he returned to
+the study and placed the lamp on the table, and the shadow sprang out
+upon the wall.  It was midnight before he went upstairs.  Mrs. Brigham
+and the other sisters, who could not sleep, heard him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The next day was the funeral.  That evening the family sat in the south
+room.  Some relatives were with them.  Nobody entered the study until
+Henry carried a lamp in there after the others had retired for the
+night.  He saw again the shadow on the wall leap to an awful life
+before the light.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The next morning at breakfast Henry Glynn announced that he had to go
+to the city for three days.  The sisters looked at him with surprise.
+He very seldom left home, and just now his practice had been neglected
+on account of Edward's death.  He was a physician.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How can you leave your patients now?" asked Mrs. Brigham wonderingly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I don't know how to, but there is no other way," replied Henry easily.
+"I have had a telegram from Doctor Mitford."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Consultation?" inquired Mrs. Brigham.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I have business," replied Henry.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Doctor Mitford was an old classmate of his who lived in a neighbouring
+city and who occasionally called upon him in the case of a consultation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After he had gone Mrs. Brigham said to Caroline that after all Henry
+had not said that he was going to consult with Doctor Mitford, and she
+thought it very strange.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Everything is very strange," said Rebecca with a shudder.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What do you mean?" inquired Caroline sharply.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Nothing," replied Rebecca.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Nobody entered the library that day, nor the next, nor the next.  The
+third day Henry was expected home, but he did not arrive and the last
+train from the city had come.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I call it pretty queer work," said Mrs. Brigham.  "The idea of a
+doctor leaving his patients for three days anyhow, at such a time as
+this, and I know he has some very sick ones; he said so.  And the idea
+of a consultation lasting three days!  There is no sense in it, and
+<I>now</I> he has not come.  I don't understand it, for my part."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I don't either," said Rebecca.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+They were all in the south parlour.  There was no light in the study
+opposite, and the door was ajar.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Presently Mrs. Brigham rose&mdash;she could not have told why; something
+seemed to impel her, some will outside her own.  She went out of the
+room, again wrapping her rustling skirts around that she might pass
+noiselessly, and began pushing at the swollen door of the study.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"She has not got any lamp," said Rebecca in a shaking voice.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Caroline, who was writing letters, rose again, took a lamp (there were
+two in the room) and followed her sister.  Rebecca had risen, but she
+stood trembling, not venturing to follow.  The doorbell rang, but the
+others did not hear it; it was on the south door on the other side of
+the house from the study.  Rebecca, after hesitating until the bell
+rang the second time, went to the door; she remembered that the servant
+was out.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Caroline and her sister Emma entered the study.  Caroline set the lamp
+on the table.  They looked at the wall.  "Oh, my God," gasped Mrs.
+Brigham, "there are&mdash;there are two&mdash;shadows."  The sisters stood
+clutching each other, staring at the awful things on the wall.  Then
+Rebecca came in, staggering, with a telegram in her hand.  "Here is&mdash;a
+telegram," she gasped.  "Henry is&mdash;dead."
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap13"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+MAJOR PERDUE'S BARGAIN
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+Copyright 1899 by Charles Scribner's Sons.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+When next I had an opportunity to talk with Aunt Minervy Ann, she
+indulged in a hearty laugh before saying a word, and it was some time
+before she found her voice.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What is so funny to-day?" I inquired.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Me, suh&mdash;nothin' tall 'bout me, an' 'tain't only ter day, nudder.
+Hit's eve'y day sence I been big 'nuff fer to see myse'f in de spring
+branch.  I laughed den, an' I laugh now eve'y time I see myse'f in my
+min'&mdash;ef I' got any min'.  I wuz talkin' ter Hamp las' night an'
+tellin' 'im how I start in ter tell you sump'n 'bout Marse Paul Conant'
+shoulder, an' den eend up by tellin' you eve'ything else I know but dat.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hamp low, he did, 'Dat ain't nothin', bekaze when I ax you ter marry
+me, you start in an' tell me 'bout a nigger gal 'cross dar in Jasper
+County, which she make promise fer ter marry a man an' she crossed her
+heart; an' den when de time come she stood up an' marry 'im an' fin'
+out 'tain't de same man, but somebody what she ain't never see' befo'.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I 'speck dat's so, suh, bekaze dey wuz sump'n like dat happen in
+Jasper County.  You know de Waters fambly&mdash;dey kep' race-hosses.  Well,
+suh, 'twuz right on der plantation.  Warren Waters tol' me 'bout dat
+hisse'f.  He wuz de hoss-trainer, an' he 'uz right dar on de groun'.
+When de gal done married, she look up an' holler, 'You ain't my
+husban', bekaze I ain't make no promise fer ter marry you.'  De man he
+laugh, an' say, 'Don't need no promise atter you done married.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, suh, dey say dat gal wuz skeer'd&mdash;skeer'd fer true.  She sot on'
+look in der fire.  De man sot an' look at 'er.  She try ter slip out de
+do', an' he slipped wid 'er.  She walked to'rds de big house, an' he
+walkt wid 'er.  She come back, an' he come wid 'er.  She run an' he run
+wid 'er.  She cry an' he laugh at 'er.  She dunner what to do.  Bimeby
+she tuck a notion dat de man mought be de Ol' Boy hisse'f, an' she
+dropped down on her knees an' 'gun ter pray.  Dis make de man restless;
+look like he frettin'.  Den he 'gun ter shake like he havin' chill.
+Den he slip down out'n de cheer.  Down he went on his all-fours.  Den
+his cloze drapped off, an' bless gracious! dar he wuz, a great big
+black shaggy dog wid a short chain roun' his neck.  Some un um flung a
+chunk of fire at 'im, an' he run out howlin'.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dat wuz de last dey seed un 'im, suh.  Dey flung his cloze in de fire,
+an' dey make a blaze dat come plum out'n de top er de chimbley stack.
+Dat what make me tell Hamp 'bout it, suh.  He ax me fer ter marry 'im,
+an' I wan't so mighty sho' dat he wan't de Ol' Boy."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, that is queer, if true," said I, "but how about Mr. Conant's
+crippled shoulder?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, it's de trufe, suh.  Warren Waters tol' me dat out'n his own mouf,
+an' he wuz right dar.  I dunno but what de gal wuz some er his kinnery.
+I don't min' tellin' you dat 'bout Marse Paul, suh, but you mustn't let
+on 'bout it, bekaze Marse Tumlin an' Miss Vallie des' ez tetchous 'bout
+dat ez dey kin be.  I'd never git der fergivunce ef dey know'd I was
+settin' down here tellin' 'bout dat.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You know how 'twaz in dem days.  De folks what wuz de richest wuz de
+wussest off when de army come home from battlin'.  I done tol' you
+'bout Marse Tumlin.  He ain't had nothin' in de roun' worl' but a whole
+passel er lan', an' me an' Miss Vallie.  I don't count Hamp, bekaze
+Hamp 'fuse ter blieve he's free twel he ramble 'roun' an' fin' out de
+patterollers ain't gwine ter take 'im up.  Dat how come I had ter sell
+ginger-cakes an' chicken-pies dat time.  De money I made at dat ain't
+last long, bekaze Marse Tumlin he been use' ter rich vittles, an' he
+went right downtown an' got a bottle er chow-chow, an' some olives, an'
+some sardines, an' some cheese, an' you know yo'se'f, suh, dat money
+ain't gwine ter las' when you buy dat kin' er doin's.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, suh, we done mighty well whiles de money helt out, but 'tain't
+court-week all de time, an' when dat de case, money got ter come fum
+some'rs else 'sides sellin' cakes an' pies.  Bimeby, Hamp he got work
+at de liberty stable, whar dey hire out hosses an' board um.  I call it
+a hoss tavern, suh, but Hamp, he 'low it's a liberty stable.  Anyhow,
+he got work dar, an' dat sorter he'p out.  Sometimes he'd growl bekaze
+I tuck his money fer ter he'p out my white folks, but when he got right
+mad I'd gi' Miss Vallie de wink, an' she'd say: 'Hampton, how'd you
+like ter have a little dram ter-night?  You look like youer tired.'  I
+could a-hugged 'er fer de way she done it, she 'uz dat cute.  An' den
+Hamp, he'd grin an' low, 'I ain't honin' fer it, Miss Vallie, but
+'twon't do me no harm, an' it may do me good.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"An' den, suh, he'd set down, an' atter he got sorter warmed up wid de
+dram, he'd kinder roll his eye and low, 'Miss Vallie, she is a fine
+white 'oman!'  Well, suh, 'tain't long 'fo' we had dat nigger man
+trained&mdash;done trained, bless you' soul!  One day Miss Vallie had ter go
+'cross town, an' she went by de liberty stable whar Hamp wuz at,
+leastways, he seed 'er some'rs; an' he come home dat night lookin' like
+he wuz feelin' bad.  He 'fuse ter talk.  Bimeby, atter he had his
+supper, he say, 'I seed Miss Vallie downtown ter-day.  She wuz wid Miss
+Irene, an' dat 'ar frock she had on look mighty shabby.'  I low, 'Well,
+it de bes' she got.  She ain't got money like de Chippendales, an' Miss
+Irene don't keer how folks' cloze look.  She too much quality fer dat.'
+Hamp say, 'Whyn't you take some er yo' money an' make Miss Vallie git
+er nice frock?'  I low, 'Whar I got any money?'  Hamp he hit his pocket
+an' say, 'You got it right here.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"An' sho' 'nuff, suh, dat nigger man had a roll er money&mdash;mos' twenty
+dollars.  Some hoss drovers had come long an' Hamp made dat money by
+trimmin' up de ol' mules dey had an' makin' um look young.  He's got de
+art er dat, suh, an' dey paid 'im well.  Dar wuz de money, but how wuz
+I gwine ter git it in Miss Vallie's han'?  I kin buy vittles an' she
+not know whar dey come fum, but when it come ter buyin' frocks&mdash;well,
+suh, hit stumped me.  Dey wan't but one way ter do it, an' I done it.
+I make like I wuz mad.  I tuck de money an' went in de house dar whar
+Miss Vallie wuz sewin' an' mendin'.  I went stompin' in, I did, an'
+when I got in I started my tune.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I low, 'Ef de Perdues gwine ter go scandalizin' deyse'f by trottin'
+down town in broad daylight wid all kinder frocks on der back, I'm
+gwine 'way fum here; an' I dun'ner but what I'll go anyhow.  'Tain't
+bekaze dey's any lack er money, fer here de money right here.'  Wid dat
+I slammed it down on de table.  'Dar! take dat an' git you a frock
+dat'll make you look like sump'n when you git outside er dis house.
+An' whiles you er gittin', git sump'n for ter put on yo' head!'"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Whether it was by reason of a certain dramatic faculty inherent in her
+race that she was able to summon emotions at will, or whether it was
+mere unconscious reproduction, I am not prepared to say.  But certain
+it is that, in voice and gesture, in tone and attitude, and in a
+certain passionate earnestness of expression, Aunt Minervy Ann built up
+the whole scene before my eyes with such power that I seemed to have
+been present when it occurred.  I felt as if she had conveyed me bodily
+into the room to become a witness of the episode.  She went on, still
+with a frown on her face and a certain violence of tone and manner:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I whipped 'roun' de room a time er two, pickin' up de cheers an'
+slammin' um down agin, an' knockin' things 'roun' like I wuz mad.  Miss
+Vallie put her sewin' down an' lay her han' on de money.  She low,
+'What's dis, Aunt Minervy Ann?'  I say, 'Hit's money, dat what
+'tis&mdash;nothin' but nasty, stinkin' money!  I wish dey wan't none in de
+worl' less'n I had a bairlful.'  She sorter fumble at de money wid 'er
+fingers.  You dunno, suh, how white an' purty an' weak her han' look
+ter me dat night.  She low, 'Aunt Minervy Ann, I can't take dis.'  I
+blaze' out at 'er, 'You don't hafter take it; you done got it!  An' ef
+you don't keep it, I'll rake up eve'y rag an' scrap I got an' leave dis
+place.  Now, you des' try me!'"
+</P>
+
+<A NAME="img-224"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-224.jpg" ALT="Mary E. Wilkins Freeman" BORDER="0" WIDTH="393" HEIGHT="547">
+</CENTER>
+
+<P>
+Again Aunt Minervy Ann summoned to her aid the passion of a moment that
+had passed away, and again I had the queer experience of seeming to
+witness the whole scene.  She continued:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Wid dat, I whipt out er de room an' out er de house an' went an' sot
+down out dar in my house whar Hamp was at.  Hamp, he low, 'What she
+say?'  I say, 'She ain't had time ter say nothin'&mdash;I come 'way fum
+dar.'  He low, 'You ain't brung dat money back, is you?'  I say: 'Does
+you think I'm a start naked fool?'  He low: 'Kaze ef you is, I'll put
+it right spang in de fire here.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, suh, I sot dar some little time, but eve'ything wuz so still in
+de house, bein's Marse Tumlin done gone downtown, dat I crope back an'
+crope in fer ter see what Miss Vallie doin'.  Well, suh, she wuz
+cryin'&mdash;settin' dar cryin'.  I 'low, 'Honey, is I say anything fer ter
+hurt yo' feelin's?'  She blubber' out, 'You know you ain't!' an' den
+she cry good-fashion.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Des 'bout dat time, who should come in but Marse Tumlin.  He look at
+Miss Vallie an' den he look at me.  He say, 'Valentine, what de
+matter?'  I say, 'It's me!  I'm de one!  I made 'er cry.  I done sump'n
+ter hurt 'er feelin's.'  She low, ''Tain't so, an' you know it.  I'm
+des cryin' bekaze you too good ter me.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, suh, I had ter git out er dar fer ter keep fum chokin'.  Marse
+Tumlin foller me out, an' right here on de porch, he low, 'Minervy Ann,
+nex' time don't be so dam good to 'er.'  I wuz doin' some snifflin'
+myse'f 'bout dat time, an' I ain't keerin' what I say, so I stop an'
+flung back at 'im, '<I>I'll be des es dam good ter 'er ez I please&mdash;I'm
+free</I>!'  Well, suh, stidder hittin' me, Marse Tumlin bust out laughin',
+an' long atter dat he'd laugh eve'y time he look at me, des like sump'n
+wuz ticklin' 'im mighty nigh ter death.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I 'speck he must er tol' 'bout dat cussin' part, bekaze folks 'roun'
+here done got de idee dat I'm a sassy an' bad-tempered 'oman.  Ef I had
+ter work fer my livin', suh, I boun' you I'd be a long time findin' a
+place.  Atter dat, Hamp, he got in de Legislatur', an' it sho' wuz a
+money-makin' place.  Den we had eve'ything we wanted, an' mo' too, but
+bimeby de Legislatur' gun out, an' den dar we wuz, flat ez flounders,
+an' de white folks don't want ter hire Hamp des kaze he been ter de
+Legislatur'; but he got back in de liberty stable atter so long a time.
+Yit 'twa'n't what you may call livin'.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"All dat time, I hear Marse Tumlin talkin' ter Miss Vallie 'bout what
+he call his wil' lan'.  He say he got two thousan' acres down dar in de
+wiregrass, an' ef he kin sell it, he be mighty glad ter do so.  Well,
+suh, one day, long to'rds night, a two-hoss waggin driv' in at de side
+gate an' come in de back-yard.  Ol' Ben Sadler wuz drivin', an' he low,
+'Heyo, Minervy Ann, whar you want deze goods drapped at?'  I say,
+'Hello yo'se'f, ef you wanter hello.  What you got dar, an' who do it
+'blong ter?'  He low, 'Hit's goods fer Major Tumlin Perdue, an' whar
+does you want um drapped at?'  Well, suh, I ain't know what ter say,
+but I run'd an' ax'd Miss Vallie, an' she say put um out anywheres
+'roun' dar, kaze she dunner nothin' 'bout um.  So ol' Ben Sadler, he
+put um out, an' when I come ter look at um, dey wuz a bairl er sump'n,
+an' a kaig er sump'n, an' a box er sump'n.  De bairl shuck like it
+mought be lasses, an' de kaig shuck like it mought be dram, an' de box
+hefted like it mought be terbarker.  An', sho' 'nuff, dat what dey
+wuz&mdash;a bairl er sorghum syr'p, an' a kaig er peach brandy, an' a box er
+plug terbarker.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I say right den, an' Miss Vallie 'll tell you de same, dat Marse
+Tumlin done gone an' swap off all his wil' lan', but Miss Vallie, she
+say no; he won't never think er seen a thing; but, bless yo' soul, suh,
+she wa'n't nothin' but a school-gal, you may say, an' she ain't know no
+mo' 'bout men folks dan what a weasel do.  An den, right 'pon top er
+dat, here come a nigger boy leadin' a bob-tail hoss.  When I see dat, I
+dez good ez know'd dat de wil' lan' done been swap off, bekaze Marse
+Tumlin ain't got nothin' fer ter buy all dem things wid, an' I tell you
+right now, suh, I wuz rank mad, kase what we want wid any ol' bob-tail
+hoss?  De sorghum mought do, an' de dram kin be put up wid, an' de
+terbarker got some comfort in it, but what de name er goodness we gwine
+ter do wid dat ol' hoss, when we ain't got hardly 'nuff vittles fer ter
+feed ourse'f wid?  Dat what I ax Miss Vallie, an' she say right
+pine-blank she dunno.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, suh, it's de Lord's trufe, I wuz dat mad I dunner what I say,
+an' I wa'n't keerin' nudder, bekaze I know how we had ter pinch an'
+squeeze fer ter git long in dis house.  But I went 'bout gittin'
+supper, an' bimeby, Hamp, he come, an' I told 'im 'bout de ol' bob-tail
+hoss, an' he went out an' look at 'im.  Atter while, here he come back
+laughin', I say, 'You well ter laugh at dat ol' hoss.'  He, 'low, 'I
+ain't laughin' at de hoss.  I'm laughin' at you.  Gal, dat de finest
+hoss what ever put foot on de groun' in dis town.  Dat's Marse Paul
+Conant's trottin' hoss.  He'll fetch fi' hunder'd dollars any day.
+What he doin' here?'  I up an' tol' 'im all I know'd, an' he shuck his
+head; he low, 'Gal, you lay low.  Dey's sump'n n'er behime all dat.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What Hamp say sorter make me put on my studyin'-cap; but when you come
+ter look at it, suh, dey wa'n't nothin' 'tall fer me ter study 'bout.
+All I had ter do wuz ter try ter fin' out what wuz behime it, an' let
+it go at dat.  When Marse Tumlin come home ter supper, I know'd sump'n
+wuz de matter wid 'im.  I know'd it by his looks, suh.  It's sorter wid
+folks like 'tis wid chillun.  Ef you keer 'sump'n 'bout um you'll watch
+der motions, and ef you watch der motions dey don't hatter tell you
+when sump'n de matter.  He come in so easy, suh, dat Miss Vallie ain't
+hear 'im, but I hear de do' screak, an' I know'd 'twuz him.  We wuz
+talkin' an' gwine on at a mighty rate, an' I know'd he done stop ter
+lis'n.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Miss Vallie, she low she 'speck somebody made 'im a present er dem ar
+things.  I say, 'Uh-uh, honey! don't you fool yo'se'f.  Nobody ain't
+gwine ter do dat.  Our folks ain't no mo' like dey useter wuz, dan
+crabapples is like plums.  Dey done come ter dat pass dat whatsomever
+dey gits der han's on dey 'fuse ter turn it loose.  All un um, 'cep'
+Marse Tumlin Perdue.  Dey ain't no tellin' what he gun fer all dat
+trash.  <I>Trash</I>!  Hit's wuss'n trash!  I wish you'd go out dar an' look
+at dat ol' bob-tail hoss.  Why dat ol' hoss wuz stove up long 'fo' de
+war.  By rights he ought ter be in de bone-yard dis ve'y minnit.  He
+won't be here two whole days 'fo' you'll see de buzzards lined up out
+dar on de back fence waitin', an' dey won't hatter wait long nudder.
+Ef dey sen' any corn here fer ter feed dat bag er bones wid, I'll parch
+it an' eat it myse'f 'fo' he shill have it.  Ef anybody 'speck I'm
+gwine ter 'ten' ter dat ol' frame, deyer 'speckin' wid de wrong specks,
+I tell you dat right now.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"All dis time Marse Tumlin wuz stan'in' out in de hall lis'nin'.  Miss
+Vallie talk mighty sweet 'bout it.  She say, 'Ef dey ain't nobody else
+ter 'ten' de hoss, reckin I kin do it.'  I low, 'My life er me, honey!
+de nex' news you know you'll be hirin' out ter de liberty stable.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, suh, my talk 'gun ter git so hot dat Marse Tumlin des had ter
+make a fuss.  He fumbled wid de do' knob, an' den come walkin' down de
+hall, an' by dat time I wuz in de dinin'-room.  I walk mighty light,
+bekaze ef he say anything I want ter hear it.  You can't call it
+eave-drappin', suh; hit look ter me dat 'twuz ez much my business ez
+'twuz dern, an' I ain't never got dat idee out'n my head down ter dis
+day.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But Marse Tumlin ain't say nothin', 'cep' fer ter ax Miss Vallie ef
+she feelin' well, an' how eve'ything wuz, but de minnit I hear 'im open
+his mouf I know'd he had trouble on his min'.  I can't tell you how I
+know'd it, suh, but dar 'twuz.  Look like he tried to hide it, bekaze
+he tol' a whole lot of funny tales 'bout folks, an' 'twa'n't long befo'
+he had Miss Vallie laughin' fit ter kill.  But he ain't fool me, suh.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Bimeby, Miss Vallie, she come in de dinin'-room fer ter look atter
+settin' de table, bekaze fum a little gal she allers like ter have de
+dishes fix des so.  She wuz sorter hummin' a chune, like she ain't want
+ter talk, but I ain't let dat stan' in my way.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I low, 'I wish eve'ybody wuz like dat Mr. Paul Conant.  I bet you
+right now he been downtown dar all day makin' money han' over fist, des
+ez fast ez he can rake it in.  I know it, kaze I does his washin' and
+cleans up his room fer 'im.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Miss Vallie say, 'Well, what uv it?  Money don't make 'im no better'n
+anybody else.'  I low, 'Hit don't make 'im no wuss; an' den, 'sides
+dat, he ain't gwine ter let nobody swindle 'im.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"By dat time, I hatter go out an' fetch supper in, an' 'tain't take me
+no time, bekaze I wuz des' achin' fer ter hear how Marse Tumlin come by
+dem ar contraptions an' contrivances.  An' I stayed in dar ter wait on
+de table, which it ain't need no waitin' on.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Atter while, I low, 'Marse Tumlin, I like ter forgot ter tell
+you&mdash;you' things done come.'  He say, 'What things, Minervy Ann?'  I
+low, 'Dem ar contraptions, an' dat ar bob-tail hoss.  He look mighty
+lean an' hongry, de hoss do, but Hamp he say dat's bekaze he's a
+high-bred hoss.  He say dem ar high-bred hosses won't take on no fat,
+no matter how much you feed urn.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Marse Tumlin sorter drum on de table.  Atter while he low, 'Dey done
+come, is dey, Minervy Ann?'  I say, 'Yasser, dey er here right now.
+Hamp puts it down dat dat ar hoss oneer de gayliest creatur's what ever
+make a track in dis town.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, suh, 'tain't no use ter tell you what else wuz said, kaze
+'twan't much.  I seed dat Marse Tumlin wan't gwine ter talk 'bout it,
+on account er bein' 'fear'd he'd hurt Miss Vallie's feelin's ef he tol'
+'er dat he done swap off all dat wil' lan' fer dem ar things an' dat ar
+bob-tail hoss.  Dat what he done.  Yasser!  I hear 'im sesso
+afterwards.  He swap it off ter Marse Paul Conant.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I thank my Lord it come out all right, but it come mighty nigh bein'
+de ruination er de fambly."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How was that?" I inquired.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dat what I'm gwine ter tell you, suh.  Right atter supper dat night,
+Marse Tumlin say he got ter go down town fer ter see a man on some
+business, an' he ax me ef I won't stay in de house dar wid Miss Vallie.
+'Twa'n't no trouble ter me, bekaze I'd 'a' been on de place anyhow, an'
+so when I got de kitchen cleaned up an' de things put away, I went back
+in de house whar Miss Vallie wuz at Marse Tumlin wuz done gone.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Miss Vallie, she sot at de table doin' some kind er rufflin', an' I
+sot back ag'in de wall in one er dem ar high-back cheers.  What we said
+I'll never tell you, suh, bekaze I'm one er deze kinder folks what
+ain't no sooner set down an' git still dan dey goes ter noddin'.  Dat's
+me.  Set me down in a cheer, high-back er low-back, an' I'm done gone!
+I kin set here on de step an' keep des ez wide-'wake ez a skeer'd
+rabbit, but set me down in a cheer&mdash;well, suh, I'd like ter see anybody
+keep me 'wake when dat's de case.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dar I sot in dat ar high-back cheer, Miss Vallie rufflin' an' flutin'
+sump'n, an' tryin' ter make me talk, an' my head rollin' 'roun' like my
+neck done broke.  Bimeby, <I>blam</I>! <I>blam</I>! come on de do'.  We got one
+er dem ar jinglin' bells now, suh, but in dem times we had a knocker,
+an' it soun' like de roof fallin' in.  I like ter jumped out'n my skin.
+Miss Vallie drapped her conflutements an' low, 'What in de worl'!  Aunt
+Minervy Ann, go ter de do.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, suh, I went, but I ain't had no heart in it, bekaze I ain't know
+who it mought be, an' whar dey come fum, an' what dey want.  But I
+went.  'Twuz me er Miss Vallie, an' I wan't gwine ter let dat chile go,
+not dat time er night, dough 'twa'n't so mighty late.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I open de do' on de crack, I did, an' low, 'Who dat?' Somebody make
+answer, 'Is de Major in, Aunt Minervy Ann?' an' I know'd right den it
+wuz Marse Paul Conant.  An' it come over me dat he had sump'n ter do
+wid sendin' er dem contraptions, mo' 'speshually dat ar bob-tail hoss.
+An' den, too, suh, lots quicker'n I kin tell it, hit come over me dat
+he been axin' me lots 'bout Miss Vallie.  All come 'cross my min', suh,
+whiles I pullin' de do' open.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I low, I did, 'No, suh; Marse Tumlin gone down town fer ter look atter
+some business, but he sho ter come back terreckly.  Won't you come in,
+suh, an' wait fer 'im?'  He sorter flung his head back an' laugh, saft
+like, an' say, 'I don't keer ef I do, Aunt Minervy Ann.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I low, 'Walk right in de parlor, suh, an' I'll make a light mos' 'fo'
+you kin turn 'roun'.  He come in, he did, an' I lit de lamp, an' time I
+lit 'er she 'gun ter smoke.  Well, suh, he tuck dat lamp, run de wick
+up an' down a time er two, an' dar she wuz, bright ez day.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"When I went back in de room whar Miss Vallie wuz at, she wuz stan'in'
+dar lookin' skeer'd.  She say, 'Who dat?' I 'low, 'Hit's Marse Paul
+Conant, dat's who 'tis.'  She say, 'What he want?'  I low, 'Nothin'
+much; he does come a-courtin'.  Better jump up an' not keep 'im
+waitin'.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, suh, you could 'a' knock'd 'er down wid a fedder.  She stood dar
+wid 'er han' on 'er th'oat takin' short breffs, des like a little bird
+does when it flies in de winder an' dunner how ter fly out ag'in.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Bimeby, she say, 'Aunt Minervy Ann, you ought ter be 'shame or
+yo'se'f!  I know dat man when I see 'im, an' dat's all.'  I low,
+'Honey, you know mighty well he ain't come callin'.  But he wanter see
+Marse Tumlin, an' dey ain't nothin' fer ter hender you fum gwine in dar
+an' makin' 'im feel at home whiles he waitin'.'  She sorter study
+awhile, an' den she blush up.  She say, 'I dunno whedder I ought ter.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, suh, dat settled it.  I know'd by de way she look an' talk dat
+she don't need no mo' 'swadin'.  I say, 'All right, honey, do ez you
+please; but it's yo' house; you er de mist'iss; an' it'll look mighty
+funny ef dat young man got ter set in dar by hisse'f an' look at de
+wall whiles he waitin' fer Marse Tumlin.  I dunner what he'll say, kaze
+I ain't never hear 'im talk 'bout nobody; but I know mighty well he'll
+do a heap er thinkin'.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Des like I tell you, suh&mdash;she skipped 'roun' dar, an' flung on 'er
+Sunday frock, shuck out 'er curls, an' sorter fumble' 'roun' wid some
+ribbons, an' dar she wuz, lookin' des ez fine ez a fiddle, ef not
+finer.  Den she swep' inter de parlor, an', you mayn't blieve it, suh,
+but she mighty nigh tuck de man's breff 'way.  Mon, she wuz purty, an'
+she ain't do no mo' like deze eve'y-day gals dan nothin'.  When she
+start 'way fum me, she wuz a gal.  By de time she walk up de hall an'
+sweep in dat parlor, she wuz a grown 'oman.  De blush what she had on
+at fust stayed wid 'er an' look like 't wuz er natchual color, an' her
+eyes shine, suh, like she had fire in um.  I peeped at 'er, suh, fum
+behime de curtains in de settin'-room, an' I know what I'm talkin'
+'bout.  It's de Lord's trufe, suh, ef de men folks could tote derse'f
+like de wimmen, an' do one way whiles dey feelin' annuder way, dey
+wouldn't be no livin' in de worl'.  You take a school gal, suh, an' she
+kin fool de smartest man what ever trod shoe leather.  He may talk wid
+'er all day an' half de night, an' he never is ter fin' out what she
+thinkin' 'bout.  Sometimes de gals fools deyse'f, suh, but dat's mighty
+seldom.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I dunner what all dey say, kaze I ain't been in dar so mighty long
+'fo' I wuz nodding but I did hear Marse Paul say he des drapt in fer
+'pollygize 'bout a little joke he played on Marse Tumlin.  Miss Vallie
+ax what wuz de joke, an' he low dat Marse Tumlin wuz banterin' folks
+fer ter buy his wil' lan'; an' Marse Paul ax 'im what he take fer it,
+an' Marse Tumlin low he'll take anything what he can chaw, sop, er
+drink.  Dem wuz de words&mdash;-chaw, sop, er drink.  Wid dat, Marse Paul
+say he'd gi' 'im a box er terbarker, a bairl er syr'p, an' a kaig er
+peach brandy an' th'ow in his buggy-hoss fer good medjer.  Marse Tomlin
+say 'done' an' dey shuck han's on it.  Dat what Marse Paul tol' Miss
+Vallie, an he 'low he des done it fer fun, kaze he done looked inter
+dat wil' lan', an' he low she's wuff a pile er money.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, suh, 'bout dat time, I 'gun ter nod, an' de fus news I know'd
+Miss Vallie wuz whackin' 'way on de peanner, an' it look like ter me
+she wuz des tryin' 'erse'f.  By dat time, dey wuz gettin' right chummy,
+an' so I des curl up on de flo', an' dream dat de peanner chunes wuz
+comin' out'n a bairl des like lasses.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"When I waked up, Marse Paul Conant done gone, an' Marse Tumlin ain't
+come, an' Miss Vallie wuz settin' dar in de parlor lookin' up at de
+ceilin' like she got some mighty long thoughts.  Her color wuz still
+up.  I look at 'er an' laugh, an' she made a mouf at me, an' I say ter
+myse'f, 'Hey! sump'n de matter here, sho,' but I say out loud, 'Marse
+Paul Conant sho gwine ter ax me ef you ain't had a dram.'  She laugh
+an' say, 'What answer you gwine ter make?'  I low, 'I'll bow an' say,
+"No, suh; I'm de one dat drinks all de dram fer de fambly."'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, suh, dat chile sot in ter laughin', an' she laugh an' laugh twel
+she went inter highsterics.  She wuz keyed up too high, ez you mought
+say, an' dat's de way she come down agin.  Bimeby, Marse Tumlin come,
+an' Miss Vallie, she tol' 'm 'bout how Marse Paul done been dar; an' he
+sot dar, he did, an' hummed an' haw'd, an' done so funny dat, bimeby, I
+low, 'Well, folks, I'll hatter tell you good-night,' an' wid dat I went
+out."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At this point Aunt Minervy leaned forward, clasped her hands over her
+knees, and shook her head.  When she took up the thread of her
+narrative, if it can be called such, the tone of her voice was more
+subdued, almost confidential, in fact.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Nex' mornin' wuz my wash-day, suh, an' 'bout ten o'clock, when I got
+ready, dey want no bluin' in de house an' mighty little soap.  I hunted
+high an' I hunted low, but no bluin' kin I fin'.  An' dat make me mad,
+bekaze ef I hatter go down town atter de bluin', my wash-day'll be
+broke inter.  But 'tain't no good fer ter git mad, bekaze I wuz bleeze
+ter go atter de bluin'.  So I tighten up my head-hankcher, an' flung a
+cape on my shoulders an' put out.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I 'speck you know how 'tis, suh.  You can't go down town but what
+you'll see nigger wimmen stan'in' out in de front yards lookin' over de
+palin's.  Dey all know'd me an' I know'd dem, an' de las' blessed one
+un um hatter hail me ez I go by, an' I hatter stop an' pass de time er
+day, kaze ef I'd 'a' whipt on by, dey'd 'a' said I wuz gwine back bofe
+on my church an' on my color.  I dunner how long dey kep' me, but time
+I got ter Proctor's sto', I know'd I'd been on de way too long.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I notice a crowd er men out dar, some settin' an' some stan'in', but I
+run'd in, I did, an' de young man what do de clerkin', he foller me in
+an' ax what I want.  I say I want a dime's wuff er bluin', an' fer ter
+please, suh, wrop it up des ez quick ez he kin.  I tuck notice dat
+while he wuz gittin' it out'n de box, he sorter stop like he lis'nin'
+an' den agin, whiles he had it in de scoop des ready fer ter drap it in
+de scales, he held his han' an' wait.  Den I know'd he wuz lis'nin'.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dat makes me lis'n, an' den I hear Marse Tumlin talkin', an' time I
+hear 'im I know'd he wuz errytated.  Twa'n't bekaze he wuz talkin'
+loud, suh, but 'twuz bekaze he wuz talkin' level.  When he talk loud,
+he feelin' good.  When he talk low, an' one word soun' same ez anudder,
+den somebody better git out'n his way.  I lef' de counter an' step ter
+de do' fer ter see what de matter wuz betwix' um.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, suh, dar wuz Marse Tumlin stan'in' dar close ter Tom Ferryman.
+Marse Tumlin, low, 'Maybe de law done 'pinted you my gyardeen.  How you
+know I been swindled?' Tom Ferryman say, 'Bekaze I hear you say he
+bought yo' wil' lan' fer a little er nothin'.  He'll swindle you ef you
+trade wid 'im, an' you done trade wid 'im.'  Marse Tumlin low, 'Is Paul
+Conant ever swindle <I>you</I>?'  Tom Ferryman say, 'No, he ain't, an' ef he
+wuz ter I'd give 'im a kickin'.'  Marse Tumlin low, 'Well, you know you
+is a swindler, an' nobody ain't kick you.  How come dat?'  Tom Ferryman
+say, 'Ef you say I'm a swindler, you're a liar.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, suh, de man ain't no sooner say dat dan <I>bang</I>! went Marse
+Tumlin's pistol, an' des ez it banged Marse Paul Conant run 'twix' um,
+an' de ball went right spang th'oo de collar-bone an' sorter sideways
+th'oo de pint er de shoulder-blade.  Marse Tumlin drapt his pistol an'
+cotch 'im ez he fell an' knelt down dar by 'im, an' all de time dat ar
+Tom Ferryman wuz stan'in' right over um wid his pistol in his han'.  I
+squall out, I did, 'Whyn't some er you white men take dat man pistol
+'way fum 'im?  Don't you see what he fixin' ter do?'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I run'd at 'im, an' he sorter flung back wid his arm, an' when he done
+dat somebody grab 'im fum behind.  All dat time Marse Tumlin wuz axin'
+Marse Paul Conant ef he hurt much.  I hear 'im say, 'I wouldn't 'a'
+done it fer de worl', Conant&mdash;not fer de worl'.'  Den de doctor, he
+come up, an' Marse Tumlin, he pester de man twel he hear 'im say,
+'Don't worry, Major; dis boy'll live ter be a older man dan you ever
+will.'  Den Marse Tumlin got his pistol an' hunt up an' down fer dat ar
+Tom Ferryman, but he done gone.  I seed 'im when he got on his hoss.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I say to Marse Tumlin, 'Ain't you des ez well ter fetch Marse Paul
+Conant home whar we all kin take keer uv 'im?'  He low, 'Dat's a
+<I>fack</I>.  Go home an' tell yo' Miss Vallie fer ter have de big room
+fixed up time we git dar wid 'im.'  I say, 'Humph!  I'll fix it myse'f;
+I know'd I ain't gwine ter let Miss Vallie do it.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, suh, 'tain't no use fer ter tell yer de rest.  Dar's dat ar baby
+in dar, an' what mo' sign does you want ter show you dat it all turned
+out des like one er dem ol'-time tales?"
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap14"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+A KENTUCKY CINDERELLA
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By F. HOPKINSON SMITH
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+Copyright 1899 by F. Hopkinson Smith.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+I was bending over my easel, hard at work upon a full-length portrait
+of a young girl in a costume of fifty years ago, when the door of my
+studio opened softly and Aunt Chloe came in.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Good-mawnin', suh!  I didn' think you'd come to-day, bein' a Sunday,"
+she said, with a slight bend of her knees.  "I'll jes' sweep up a lil
+mite; doan' ye move, I won't 'sturb ye."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Aunt Chloe had first opened my door a year before with a note from
+Marny, a brother brush, which began with "Here is an old Southern mammy
+who has seen better days; paint her if you can," and ended with, "Any
+way, give her a job."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The bearer of the note was indeed the ideal mammy, even to the bandanna
+handkerchief bound about her head, and the capacious waist and ample
+bosom&mdash;the lullaby resting-place for many a child, white and black.  I
+had never seen a real one in the flesh before.  I had heard about them
+in my earlier days.  Daddy Billy, my father's body servant and my
+father's slave, who lived to be ninety-four, had told me of his own
+Aunt Mirey, who had died in the old days, but too far back for me to
+remember.  And I had listened, when a boy, to the traditions connected
+with the plantations of my ancestors,&mdash;of the Keziahs and Mammy
+Crouches and Mammy Janes,&mdash;but I had never looked into the eyes of one
+of the old school until I saw Aunt Chloe, nor had I ever fully realized
+how quaintly courteous and gentle one of them could be until, with an
+old-time manner, born of a training seldom found outside of the old
+Southern homes, she bent forward, spread her apron with both hands, and
+with a little backward dip had said as she left me that first day:
+"Thank ye, suh!  I'll come eve'y Sunday mawnin'.  I'll do my best to
+please ye, an' I specs I kin."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I do not often work on Sunday, but my picture had been too long delayed
+waiting for a faded wedding dress worn once by the original when she
+was a bride, and which had only been found when two of her descendants
+had ransacked their respective garrets.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mus' be mighty driv, suh," she said, "a workin' on de Sabbath day.
+Golly, but dat's a purty lady!" and she put down her pail.  "I see it
+las' Sunday when I come in, but she didn't had dem ruffles 'round her
+neck den dat you done gib her.  'Clar' to goodness, dat chile look like
+she was jes' a-gwine to speak."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Aunt Chloe was leaning on her broom, her eyes scrutinizing the portrait.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, if dat doan' beat de lan'.  I ain't never seen none o' dem
+frocks since de ole times.  An' dem lil low shoes wid de ribbons
+crossed on de ankles!  She's de livin' pussonecation&mdash;she is so, for a
+fac'.  Uhm!  Uh!"  (It is difficult to convey this peculiar sound of
+complete approval in so many letters.)
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Did you ever know anybody like her?" I asked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The old woman straightened her back, and for a moment her eyes looked
+into mine.  I had often tried to draw from her something of her earlier
+life, but she had always evaded my questions.  Marny had told me that
+his attempts had at first been equally disappointing.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Body as ole's me, suh, seen a plenty o' people."  Then her eyes sought
+the canvas again.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After a moment's pause she said, as if to herself: "You's de real
+quality, chile, dat you is; eve'y spec an' spinch o' ye."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I tried again.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Does it look like anybody you ever saw, Aunt Chloe?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It do an' it don't," she answered critically.  "De feet is like hern,
+but de eyes ain't."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Who?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, Miss Nannie."  And she leaned again on her broom and looked down
+on the floor.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I heaped up a little pile of pigments on one corner of my palette and
+flattened them for a high light on a fold in the satin gown.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Who was Miss Nannie?" I asked carelessly.  I was afraid the thread
+would break if I pulled too hard.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"One o' my chillen, honey."  A peculiar softness came into her voice.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Tell me about her.  It will help me get her eyes right, so you can
+remember her better.  They don't look human enough to me anyhow" (this
+last to myself).  "Where did she live?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Where dey all live&mdash;-down in de big house.  She warn't Marse Henry's
+real chile, but she come o' de blood.  She didn't hab dem kind o' shoes
+on her footses when I fust see her, but she wore 'em when she lef' me.
+Dat she did."  Her voice rose suddenly and her eyes brightened.  "And
+dem ain't nothin' to de way dey shined.  I ain't never seen no satin
+slippers shine like dem slippers; dey was jes' ablaze!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I worked on in silence.  Marny had cautioned me not to be too curious.
+Some day she might open her heart and tell me wonderful stories of her
+earlier life, but I must not appear too anxious.  She had become rather
+suspicious of strangers since she had moved North and lost track of her
+own people, Marny had said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Aunt Chloe picked up her pail and began moving some easels into a far
+corner of my studio and piling the chairs in a heap.  This done, she
+stopped again and stood behind me, looking intently at the canvas over
+my shoulder.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"My!  My! ain't dat de ve'y image of dat frock?  I kin see it now jes'
+as Miss Nannie come down de stairs.  But you got to put dat gold chain
+on it 'fore it gits to be de ve'y 'spress image.  I had it roun' my own
+neck once; I knew jes' how it looked."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I laid down my palette, and picking up a piece of chalk asked her to
+describe it so that I could make an outline.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It was long an' heavy, an' it woun' roun' de neck twice an' hung down
+to de wais'.  An' dat watch on de end of it!  Well, I ain't seen none
+like dat one sence.  I 'clar' to ye it was jes' 's teeny as one o' dem
+lil biscuits I used to make for 'er when she come in de kitchen&mdash;an'
+she was dere most of de time.  Dey didn't care nuffin for her much.
+Let 'er go roun' barefoot half de time, an' her hair a-flyin'.  Only
+one good frock to her name, an' dat warn't nuffin but calico.  I used
+to wash dat many a time for her long 'fore she was outen her bed.
+Allus makes my blood bile to dis day whenever I think of de way dey
+treated dat chile.  But it didn't make no diff'ence what she had
+on&mdash;shoes or no shoes&mdash;her footses was dat lil.  An' purty!  Wid her
+big eyes an' her cheeks jes' 's fresh as dem rosewater roses dat I used
+to snip off for ole Sam to put on de table.  Oh! I tell ye, if ye could
+picter her like dat dey wouldn't be nobody clear from here to glory
+could come nigh her."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Aunt Chloe's eyes were kindling with every word.  I remembered Marny's
+warning and kept stil.  I had abandoned the sketch of the chain as an
+unnecessary incentive, and had begun again with my palette knife,
+pottering away, nodding appreciatingly, and now and then putting a
+question to clear up some tangled situation as to dates and localities
+which her rambling talk had left unsettled.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, suh, down in the blue grass country, near Lexin'ton, Kentucky,
+whar my ole master, Marse Henry Gordon, lived," she answered to my
+inquiry as to where this all happened.  "I used to go eve'y year to see
+him after de war was over, an' kep' it up till he died.  Dere warn't
+nobody like him den, an' dere ain't none now.  He warn't never spiteful
+to chillen, white or black.  Eve'ybody knowed dat.  I was a pickaninny
+myse'f, an' I belonged to him.  An' he ain't never laid a lick on me,
+an' he wouldn't let nobody else do 't nuther, 'cept my mammy.  I
+'members one time when Aunt Dinah made cake dat ole Sam&mdash;he war a heap
+younger den&mdash;couldn't put it on de table 'ca'se dere was a piece broke
+out'n it.  Sam he riz, an' Dinah she riz, an' after dey'd called each
+other all de names dey could lay dere tongues to, Miss Ann, my own fust
+mist'ess, come in an' she say dem chillen tuk dat cake, an' 't ain't
+nary one o' ye dat's 'sponsible.  'What's dis,' says Marse
+Henry&mdash;'chillen stealin' cake?  Send 'em here to me!'  When we all come
+in&mdash;dere was six or eight of us&mdash;he says, 'Eve'y one o' ye look me in
+de eye; now which one tuk it?'  I kep' lookin' away,&mdash;fust on de flo'
+an' den out de windy.  'Look at me,' he says agin.  'You ain't lookin',
+Clorindy.'  Den I cotched him watchin' me.  'Now you all go out,' he
+says, 'and de one dat's guilty kin come back agin.'  Den we all went
+out in de yard.  'You tell him,' says one.  'No, you tell him;' an'
+dat's de way it went on.  I knowed I was de wustest, for I opened de
+door o' de sideboard an' gin it to de others.  Den I thought, if I
+don't tell him mebbe he'll lick de whole passel on us, an' dat ain't
+right; but if I go tell him an' beg his 'umble pardon he might lemme
+go.  So I crep' 'round where he was a-settin' wid his book on his
+knee,"&mdash;Aunt Chloe was now moving stealthily behind me, her eyes fixed
+on her imaginary master, head down, one finger in her mouth,&mdash;"an' I
+say, 'Marse Henry!'  An' he look up an' say, 'Who's dat?'  An' I say,
+'Dat's Clorindy.'  An' he say, 'What you want?'  'Marse Henry, I come
+to tell ye I was hungry, an' I see de door open an' I shove it back an'
+tuk de piece o' cake, an' I thought maybe if I done tole ye you'd
+forgib me.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Den you is de ringleader,' he says, 'an' you tempted de other
+chillen?'  'Yes,' I says, 'I 'spec' so.'  'Well,' he says, lookin' down
+on de carpet, 'now dat you has perfessed an' beg pardon, you is good
+an' ready to pay 'tention to what I'm gwine to say.'  De other chillen
+had sneaked up an' was listenin'; dey 'spected to see me git it, though
+dere ain't nary one of 'em ever knowed him to strike 'em a lick.  Den
+he says: 'Dis here is a lil thing,&mdash;dis stealin' a cake; an' it's a big
+thing at de same time.  Miss Ann has been right smart put out 'bout it,
+an' I'm gwine to see dat it don't happen agin.  If you see a pin on de
+fl'or you wouldn't steal it,&mdash;you'd pick it up if you wanted it, an' it
+wouldn't be nuffin, 'cause somebody th'owed it away an' it was free to
+eve'body; but if you see a piece o' money on de fl'or, you knowed
+nobody didn't th'ow dat away, an' if you pick it up an' don't tell,
+dat's somethin' else&mdash;dat's stealin', 'cause you tuk somethin' dat
+somebody else has paid somethin' for an' dat belongs to him.  Now dis
+cake ain't o' much 'count, but it warn't yourn, an' you oughtn't to ha'
+tuk it.  If you'd asked yo'r mist'ess for it she'd gin you a piece.
+There ain't nuffin here you chillen doan' git when ye ask for it.'  I
+didn't say nuffin more.  I jes' waited for him to do anythin' he wanted
+to me.  Den he looks at de carpet for a long time an' he says:&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'I reckon you won't take no mo' cake 'thout askin' for it, Clorindy,
+an' you chillen kin go out an' play agin.'"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The tears were now standing in her eyes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dat's what my ole master was, suh; I ain't never forgot it.  If he had
+beat me to death he couldn't 'a' done no mo' for me.  He jes' splained
+to me an' I ain't never forgot since."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Did your own mother find it out?" I asked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The tears were gone now; her face was radiant again at my question.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dat she did, suh.  One o' de chillen done tole on me.  Mammy jes' made
+one grab as I run pas' de kitchen door, an' reached for a barrel stave,
+an' she fairly sot&mdash;me&mdash;afire!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Aunt Chloe was now holding her sides with laughter, fresh tears
+streaming down her cheeks.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But Marse Henry never knowed it.  Lawd, suh, dere ain't nobody round
+here like him, nor never was.  I kin 'member him now same as it was
+yesterday, wid his white hair, an' he a-settin' in his big chair.  It
+was de las' time I ever see him.  De big house was gone, an' de colored
+people was gone, an' he was dat po' he didn't know where de nex'
+moufful was a-comin' from.  I come out behind him so,"&mdash;Aunt Chloe made
+me her old master and my stool his rocking-chair,&mdash;"an' I pat him on
+the shoulder dis way, an' he say, 'Chloe, is dat you?  How is it yo'
+looks so comfble like?'  An' I say, 'It's you, Marse Henry; you done it
+all; yo' teachin' made me what I is, an' if you study about it you'll
+know it's so.  An' de others ain't no wus'.  Of all de colored people
+you owned, dere ain't nary one been hung, or been in de penitentiary,
+nor ain't knowed as liars.  Dat's de way you fotch us up.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"An' I love him yet, an' if he was a-livin' to-day I'd work for him an'
+take care of him if I went hungry myse'f.  De only fool thing Marster
+Henry ever done was a-marryin' dat widow woman for his second wife.
+Miss Nannie, dat looks a lil bit like dat chile you got dere before
+ye"&mdash;and she pointed to the canvas&mdash;"wouldn't a been sot on an' 'bused
+like she was but for her.  Dat woman warn't nuffin but a harf-strainer
+noway, if I do say it.  Eve'body knowed dat.  How Marse Henry Gordon
+come to marry her nobody don't know till dis day.  She warn't none o'
+our people.  Dey do say dat he met her up to Frankfort when he was in
+de Legislator, but I don't know if dat's so.  But she warn't nuffin,
+nohow."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Was Miss Nannie her child?" I asked, stepping back from my easel to
+get the better effect of my canvas.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No suh, dat she warn't!" with emphasis.  "She was Marse Henry's own
+sister's chile, she was.  Her people&mdash;Miss Nannie's&mdash;lived up in
+Indiany, an' dey was jes' 's po' as watermelon rinds, and when her
+mother died Marse Henry sent for her to come live wid him, 'cause he
+said Miss Rachel&mdash;dat was dat woman's own chile by her fust
+husband&mdash;was lonesome.  Dey was bofe about de one age,&mdash;fo'teen or
+fifteen years old,&mdash;but Lawd-a-massy!  Miss Rachel warn't lonesome
+'cept for what he couldn't git, an' she most broke her heart 'bout dat,
+much 's she could break it 'bout anything.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I remember de ve'y day Miss Nannie come.  I see her comin' down de
+road totin' a big ban'box, an' a carpet bag mos 's big 's herse'f.  Den
+she turned in de gate.  ''Fo' God,' I says to ole Sam, who was settin'
+de table for dinner, 'who's dis yere comin' in?'  Den I see her stop
+an' set de bundles down an' catch her bref, and den she come on agin.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Dat's Marse Henry's niece,' he says.  'I heared de mistress say she
+was a-comin' one day dis week by de coach.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I see right away dat dat woman was up to one of her tricks; she didn't
+'tend to let dat chile come no other way 'cept like a servant; she was
+dat dirt mean.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, you needn't look, suh!  I ain't meanin' no onrespect, but I knowed
+dat woman when Marse Henry fust married her, an' she ain't never fooled
+me once.  Fust time she come into de house she walked plumb in de
+kitchen, where me an' old Sam an' ole Dinah was a-eaten our dinner, we
+setten at de table like we useter did, and she flung her head up in de
+air and she says: 'After dis when I come in I want you niggers to git
+up on yo' feet.'  Think o' dat, will ye?  Marse Henry never called nary
+one of us nigger since we was pickaninnies.  I knowed den she warn't
+'customed to nuthin'.  But I tell ye she never put on dem kind o' airs
+when Marse Henry was about.  No, suh.  She was always mighty sugar-like
+to him when he was home, but dere ain't no conniption she warn't up to
+when he couldn't hear of it.  She had purty nigh riz de roof when he
+done tell her dat Miss Nannie was a-comin' to live wid 'em, but she
+couldn't stand agin him, for warn't her only daughter, Miss Rachel,
+livin' on him, an' not only Miss Rachel, but lots mo' of her people
+where she come from?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, suh, as soon as ole Sam said what chile it was dat was a-comin'
+down de road I dropped my dishcloth an' I run out to meet 'er.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Is you Miss Nannie?' I says.  'Gimme dat bag,' I says, 'an' dat box.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Yes,' she says, 'dat's me, an' ain't you Aunt Chloe what I heared so
+much about?'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Honey, you ain't never gwine to git de kind o' look on dat picter
+you's workin' on dere, suh, as sweet as dat chile's face when she said
+dat to me.  I loved her from dat fust minute I see her, an' I loved her
+ever since, jes' as I loved her mother befo' her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"When she got to de house, me a-totin' de things on behind, de mist'ess
+come out on de po'ch.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Oh, dat's you, is it, Nannie?' she says.  'Well, Chloe'll tell ye
+where to go,' an' she went straight in de house agin.  Never kissed
+her, nor touched her, nor nuffin!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ole Sam was bilin'.  He heard her say it, an' if he was alive he'd
+tell ye same as me.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Where's she gwine to sleep?' I says, callin' after her; 'upstairs
+long wid Miss Rachel?'  I was gittin' hot myse'f, though I didn't say
+nuffin.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'No,' she says, flingin' up her head like a goat; 'my daughter needs
+all de room she's got.  You kin take her downstairs an' fix up a place
+for her longside o' you an' Dinah.' She was de old cook.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Come long,' I says, 'Miss Nannie,' an' I dropped a curtsey same's if
+she was a princess.  An' so she was, an' Marse Henry's own eyes in her
+head, an' 'nough like him to be his own chile.  'I'll hab ev'ything
+ready for ye,' I says.  'You wait here an' take de air,' an' I got a
+chair an' sot her down on de po'ch, an' ole Sam brung her some cake,
+an' I went to git de room ready&mdash;de room offn de kitchen pantry, where
+dey puts de overseer's chillen when dey come to see him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Purty soon Miss Rachel come down an' went up an' kissed her&mdash;dat is,
+Sam said so, though I ain't never seen her kiss her dat time nor no
+other time.  Miss Rachel an' de mist'ess was bofe split out o' de same
+piece o' kindlin', an' what one was agin t' other was agin&mdash;a blind man
+could see dat Miss Rachel never liked Miss Nannie from de fust, she was
+dat cross-grained and pernicketty.  No matter what Miss Nannie done to
+please her it warn't good 'nough for her.  Why, do you know, when de
+other chillen come over from de nex' plantation Miss Rachel wouldn't
+send for Miss Nannie to come in de parlor.  No, suh, dat she wouldn't!
+An' dey'd run off an' leave her, too, when dey was gwine picknickin',
+an' treat dat chile owdacious, sayin' she was po' white trash, an'
+charity chile, an' things like dat, till I would go an' tell Marse
+Henry 'bout it.  Den dere would be a 'ruction, an' Marse Henry'd blaze
+out, an' jes 's soon's he was off agin to Frankfort&mdash;an' he was dere
+mos' of de time, for he was one o' dese yere ole-timers dat dey
+couldn't git long widout at de Legislator&mdash;dey'd treat her wus'n ever.
+Soon's Dinah an' me see dat, we kep' Miss Nannie long wid us much as we
+could.  She'd eat wid 'em when dere warn't no company 'round, but dat
+was 'bout all."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Did they send her to school?" I asked, fearing she would again lose
+the thread.  My picture had a new meaning for me now that it looked
+like her heroine.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, suh, dat dey didn't, 'cept to de schoolhouse at de cross-roads
+whar everybody's chillen went.  But dey sent Miss Rachel to a real
+highty-tighty school, dat dey did, down to Louisville.  Two winters she
+was dere, an' eve'y time when she come home for holiday times she had
+mo' airs dan when she went away.  Marse Henry wanted bofe chillen to
+go, but dat woman outdid him, an' she faced him up an' down dat dere
+warn't money 'nough for two, an' dat her daughter was de fittenest, an'
+all dat, an' he give in.  I didn't hear it, but ole Sam did, an' his
+han' shook so he mos' spilt de soup.  But law, honey, dat didn't make
+no diff'ence to Miss Nannie.  She'd go off by herse'f wid her books an'
+sit all day under de trees, an' sing to herse'f jes' like a bird, an'
+dey'd sing to her, an' all dat time her face was a-beamin' an' her hair
+shinin' like gold, an' she a-growin' taller, an' her eyes gittin'
+bigger an' bigger, an' brighter, an' her little footses white an'
+cunnin' as a rabbit's.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"De only place whar she did go outside de big house was over to Mis'
+Morgan's, who lived on de nex' plantation.  Miss Morgan didn't hab no
+chillen of her own, an' she'd send for Miss Nannie to come an' keep her
+company, she was dat dead lonesome, an' dey was glad 'nough to let dat
+chile go so dey could git her out o' de house.  Ole Sam allers said
+dat, for he heared 'em talk at table an' knowed what was gwine on.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Purty soon long come de time when Miss Rachel done finish her
+eddication, an' she come back to de big house an' sot herse'f up to
+'ceive company.  She warn't bad lookin' in dem days, I mus' say, an' if
+dat woman's sperit hadn't 'a' been in her she might 'a' pulled through.
+But dere warn't no fetching up could stand agin dat blood.  Miss Rachel
+'d git dat ornery dat you could n't do nuffin wid her, jes' like her
+maw.  De fust real out-an'-out beau she had was Dr. Tom Boling.  He
+lived 'bout fo'teen miles out o' Lexin'ton on de big plantation, an'
+was de richest young man in our parts.  His paw had died 'bout two
+years befo' an' lef' him mo' money dan he could th'ow away, an' he'd
+jes' come back from Philadelphy, whar he'd been a-learnin' to be a
+doctor.  He met Miss Rachel at a party in Louisville, an' de fust
+Sunday she come home he driv over to see her.  If ye could 'a' seen de
+mist'ess when she see him comin' in de gate!  All in his ridin' boots
+an' his yaller breeches an' bottle-green coat, an' his servant a-ridin'
+behind to hold de horses.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ole Sam an' me was a-watchin' de mist'ess peekin' th'ough de blind at
+him, her eyes a-blazin', an' Sam laughed so he had to stuff a napkin in
+his mouf to keep 'er from hearin' him.  Well, suh, dat went on all de
+summer.  Eve'y time he come de mist'ess 'd be dat sweet mos' make a
+body sick to see her, an' when he'd stay away she was dat pesky dere
+warn't no livin' wid her.  Of co'se dere was plenty mo' gemmen co'rting
+Miss Rachel, too, but none o' dem didn't count wid de mist'ess 'cept de
+doctor, 'cause he was rich, dat's all dere was to 't, 'cause he was
+rich.  I tell ye ole Sam had to tell many a lie to the other gemmen,
+sayin' Miss Rachel was sick or somethin' else when she was a-waitin'
+for de doctor to come, and was feared he might meet some of 'em an' git
+skeered away.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Miss Nannie, she'd watch him, too, from behind de kitchen door, or
+scrunched down lookin' over de pantry winder sill, an' den she'd tell
+Dinah an' me what he did, an' how he got off his horse an' han' de
+reins to de boy, an' slap his boots wid his ridin' whip, like he was
+a-dustin' off a fly.  An' she'd act it all out for me an' Dinah, an'
+slap her own frock, an' den she'd laugh fit to kill herse'f an' dance
+all 'round de kitchen.  Would yo' believe it?  No! dere ain't nobody 'd
+believe it.  Dey never asked her to come in once while he was in de
+parlor, an' dey never once tole him dat Miss Nannie was a-livin' on de
+top side o' de yearth!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Co'se people 'gin to talk, an' ev'ybody said dat Dr. Boling was
+gittin' nighest de coon, an' dat fust thing dey'd know dere would be a
+weddin' in de Gordon fambly.  An' den agin dere was plenty mo' people
+said he was only passin' de time wid Miss Rachel, an' dat he come to
+see Marse Henry to talk pol'tics.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, one day, suh, I was a-standin' in de door an' I see him come in
+a-foot, widout his horse an' servant, an' step up on de po'ch quick an'
+rap at de do', like he say to himse'f, 'Lemme in; I'm in a hurry; I got
+somethin' on my mind.'  Ole Sam was jes' a-gwine to open de do' for him
+when Miss Nannie come a-runnin' in de kitchen from de yard, her cheeks
+like de roses, her hair a-flyin', an' her big hat hangin' to a string
+down her back.  I gin Sam one look an' he stopped, an' I says to Miss
+Nannie, 'Run, honey,' I says, 'an' open de do' for ole Sam; I spec',' I
+says, 'it's one o' dem peddlers.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If you could 'a' seen dat chile's face when she come back!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Aunt Chloe's hands were now waving above her head, her mouth wide open
+in her merriment, every tooth shining.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"She was white one minute an' red as a beet the nex'.  'Oh, Aunt Chloe,
+what did you let me go for?' she says.  'Oh!  I wouldn't 'a' let him
+see me like dis for anythin' in de wo'ld.  Oh, I'm dat put out.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'What did he say to ye, honey?' I says.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'He didn't say nuffin; he jes' look at me an' say he beg my pardon,
+an' was Miss Rachel in, an' den I said I'd run an' tell her, an' when I
+come downstairs agin he was a-standin' in de hall wid his eyes up de
+staircase, an' he never stopped lookin' at me till I come down.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Well, dat won't do you no harm, chile,' I says; 'a cat kin look at a
+king.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ole Sam was a-watchin' her, too, an' when she'd gone in her leetle
+room an' shet de do' Sam says, 'I'll lay if Marse Tom Boling had
+anythin' on his mind when he come here to-day it's mighty onsettled by
+dis time.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Nex' time Dr. Tom Boling come he say to de mist'ess, 'Who's dat young
+lady,' he says, 'dat opened de door for me las' time I was here?  I
+hoped to see her agin.  Is she in?'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Den dey bofe cooked up some lie' bout her bein' over to Mis' Morgan's
+or somethin', an' as soon 's he was gone dey come down an' riz Sam for
+not 'tendin' de door an' lettin' dat ragged fly-away gal open it.  Den
+dey went for Miss Nannie till dey made her cry, an' she come to me, an'
+I took her in my lap an' comfo'ted her like I allers did.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"De nex' time he come he says, 'I hear dat yo'r niece, Miss Nannie
+Barnes, is livin' wid you, an' dat she is ve'y 'sclusive.  I hope dat
+you'll 'suade her to come in de parlor,' he says.  Dem was his ve'y
+words.  Sam was a-standin' close to him as I am to you an' he heared
+him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'She ain't yet in s'ciety,' de mist'ess says, 'an' she's dat wild dat
+we can't p'esent her.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Oh! is dat so?' he says.  'Is she in now?'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'No,' she says, 'she's over to Mis' Morgan's.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dat was a fac' dis time; she'd gone dat very mawnin'.  Den Miss Rachel
+come down, an' co'se Sam didn't hear no mo' 'cause he had to go out.
+Purty soon out de doctor come.  Dese visits, min' ye, was gittin'
+shorter an' shorter, though he do come as often, an' over he goes to
+Mis' Morgan's hisse'f.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Now I doan' know what he said to Miss Nannie, or what passed 'twixt
+'em, 'cause she didn't tell me.  Only dat she said he had come to see
+Mis' Morgan 'bout some land matters, an' dat Mis' Morgan interjuced
+'em, but nuffin mo'.  Lord bless dat chile!  An', suh, dat was de fust
+time she ever kep' anythin' from her ole mammy.  Dat made me mo' glad
+'n ever.  I knowed den dey was bofe hit.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But my lah', de fur begin to fly when de mist'ess an' Miss Rachel
+heared 'bout dat visit!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'What you mean by makin' eyes at Dr. Boling?  Don't you know he's good
+as 'gaged to my daughter?' de mist'ess said.  Dat was a lie, for he
+never said a word to Miss Rachel; ole Sam could tole you dat.  'Git out
+o' my house, you good-for-nothin' pauper, an' take yo' rags wid ye.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I see right away de fat was in de fire.  Marse Henry warn't 'spected
+home till de nex' Sunday, an' so I tuk her over to Mis' Morgan, an' den
+I ups an' tells her everything dat woman had done to dat chile since de
+day she come.  An' when I'd done she tuk Miss Nannie by de han' an' she
+says:&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'You won't never want a home, chile, so long as I live.  Go back,
+Chloe, an' git her clo'es.'  But I didn't git 'em.  I knowed Marse
+Henry 'd raise de roof when he come, an' he did, bless yo' heart.  Went
+over hisse'f an' got her, an' brought her home, an' dat night when Dr.
+Boling come he made her sit down in de parlor, an' 'fo' he went home
+dat night de Doctor he say to Marse Henry, 'I want yo' permission,
+Mister Gordon, to pay my addresses to Miss Nannie, yo' niece.'  Sam was
+a-standing close as he could git to de door, an' he heard ev'y word.
+Now he ain't never said dat, mind ye, to Marse Henry 'bout Miss Rachel!
+An' dat's why I know dat he warn't hit unto death wid her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, do you know, suh, dat dat woman was dat owdacious she wouldn't
+let 'em see each other after dat 'cept on de front po'ch.  Wouldn't let
+'em come in de house; make 'em do all dere co'rtin' on de steps an' out
+at de paster gate.  De doctor would rare an' pitch an' git white in de
+face at de scandlous way dat Miss Barnes was bein' treated, until Miss
+Nannie put bofe her leetle han's on his'n, soothin' like, an' den he'd
+grab 'em an' kiss 'em like he'd eat 'em up.  Sam cotched him at it, an'
+done tole me; an' den dey'd sa'nter off down de po'ch, sayin' it was
+too hot or too cool, or dat dey was lookin' for birds' nests in de
+po'ch vines, till dey'd git to de far end, where de mist'ess nor Sam
+nor nobody else couldn't hear what dey was a-sayin' an' a-whisperin',
+an' dere dey'd sit fer hours.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But I tell ye de doctor had a hard time a-gittin' her even when Marse
+Henry gin his consent.  An' he never would 'a' got her if Miss Rachel,
+jes' for spite, I spec', hadn't 'a' took up wid Colonel Todhunter's son
+dat was a-co'rtin' on her too, an' run off an' married him.  Den Miss
+Nannie knowed she was free to follow her own heart.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I tell you it'd 'a' made ye cry yo' eyes out, suh, to see dat chile
+try an' fix herse'f up to meet him de days an' nights she knowed he was
+comin', an' she wid jes' one white frock to her name.  An' we all felt
+jes' as bad as her.  Dinah would wash it an' I'd smooth her hair, an'
+ole Sam 'd git her a fresh rose to put in her neck.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Purty soon de weddin' day was 'pinted, an' me an' Dinah an' ole Sam
+'gin to wonder how dat chile was a-gwine to git clo'es to be married
+in.  Sam heared ole marster ask dat same question at de table, an' he
+see him gib de mist'ess de money to buy 'em for her, an' de mist'ess
+said dat she reckoned 'Miss Nannie's people would want de privlege o'
+dressin' her now dat she was a-gwine to marry dat wo'thless young
+doctor, Tom Boling, dat nobody wouldn't hab in de house, but dat if dey
+didn't she'd gin her some of Miss Rachel's clo'es, an' if dem warn't
+'nough den she'd spen' de money to de best advantage.'  Dem was her
+ve'y words.  Sam heared her say 'em.  I knowed dat meant dat de chile
+would go naked, for she wouldn't a-worn none o' Miss Rachel's rubbish,
+an' not a cent would she git o' de money.  So I got dat ole white frock
+out, an' Dinah found a white ribbon in a ole trunk in de garret, an'
+washed an' ironed it to tie 'round her waist, an' Miss Nannie come an'
+look at it, an' when she see it de tears riz up in her eyes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Doan' you cry, chile,' I says.  'He ain't lovin' ye for yo' clo'es,
+an' never did.  Fust time he see ye yo' was purty nigh barefoot.  It's
+you he wants, not yo' frocks, honey;' an' den de sun come out in her
+face an' her eyes dried up, an' she 'gin to smile an' sing like a robin
+after de rain.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Purty soon long come Chris'mas time, an' me an' ole Sam an' Dinah was
+a-watchin' out to see what Marse Tom Boling was gwine to gin his bride,
+fur she was purty nigh dat, as dey was to be married de week after
+Chris'mas.  Well, suh, de mawnin' 'fore Chris'mas come, an' den de
+arternoon come, an' den de night come, an' mos' ev'y hour somebody sent
+somethin' for Miss Rachel, an' yet not one scrap of nuffin big as a
+chink-a-pin come for Miss Nannie.  Dinah an' me was dat onresless dat
+we couldn't sleep.  Miss Nannie didn't say nuffin when she went to bed,
+but I see a little shadder creep over her face an' I knowed right away
+what hurted her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, de nex' mawnin'&mdash;Chris'mas mawnin' dat was&mdash;ole Sam come
+a-bustin' in de kitchen do', a-hollerin' loud as he could holler"&mdash;Aunt
+Chloe was now rocking herself back and forth, clapping her hands as she
+talked&mdash;"dat dere was a trunk on de front po'ch for Miss Nannie dat was
+dat heavy it tuk fo' niggers to lif it.  I run, an' Dinah run, an' when
+we got to de trunk mos' all de niggers was thick 'round it as flies,
+an' Miss Nannie was standin' over it readin' a card wid her name on it
+an' a 'scription sayin' dat it was 'a Chris'mas gif, wid de compliments
+of a friend.'  But who dat friend was, whether it was Marse Henry, who
+sent it dat way so dat woman wouldn't tear his hair out; or whether
+Mis' Morgan sent it, dat hadn't mo'n 'nough money to live on; or
+whether some of her own kin in Indiany, dat was dirt po', stole de
+money an' sent it; or whether de young Dr. Tom Doling, who had mo'
+money dan all de banks in Lexin'ton, done did it, don't nobody know
+till dis day, 'cept me an' ole Sam, an' we ain't tellin'.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But, my soul alive, de insides of dat trunk took de bref clean out o'
+de mist'ess an' Miss Rachel.  Sam opened it, an' I tuk out de things.
+Honey! dere was a weddin' dress all white satin dat would stand
+alone,&mdash;jes' de ve'y mate of de one you got in dat picter 'fore
+ye,&mdash;an' a change'ble silk, dat heavy! an' a plaid one, an' eve'ything
+a young lady could git on her back from her skin out, an' a
+thousand-dollar watch an' chain.  I wore dat watch myse'f; Miss Nannie
+was standin' by me, a-clappin' her han's an' laughin', an' when dat
+watch an' chain came out she jes' th'owed de chain over my neck an'
+stuck de leetle watch in my bosom, an' says, 'Dere, you dear ole mammy,
+go look at you'se'f in de glass an' see how fine you is.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"De nex' week come de weddin'.  I'll never forgit dat weddin' to my
+dyin' day.  Marse Tom Boling driv in wid a coach an' four an' two
+outriders, an' de horses wore white ribbons on dere ears; an' de
+coachman had flowers in his coat mos' big as his head, an' dey whirled
+up in front of de po'ch, an' out he stepped in his blue coat an' brass
+buttons an' a yaller wais'coat,&mdash;yaller as a gourd,&mdash;an' his bell-crown
+hat in his han'.  She was a-waitin' for him wid dat white satin dress
+on, an' de chain 'round her neck, an' her lil footses tied up wid silk
+ribbons de ve'y match o' dem you got pictered, an' her face shinin'
+like a angel.  An' all de niggers was a-standin' 'roun' de po'ch, dere
+eyes out'n dere heads, an' Marse Henry was dere in his new clo'es
+lookin' so grand, an' Sam in his white gloves, an' me in a new head
+han'chief.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Eve'body was happy 'cept one.  Dat one was de mist'ess, standin' in de
+door.  She wouldn't come out to de coach where de horses was a-champin'
+de bits an' de froth a-droppin' on de groun', an' she wouldn't speak to
+Marse Tom.  She kep' back in de do'way.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Miss Rachel was dat mean she wouldn't come downstairs.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Miss Nannie gib Marse Tom Boling her han' an' look up in his face like
+a queen, an' den she kissed Marse Henry, an' whispered somethin' in his
+ear dat nobody didn't hear, only de tears gin to jump out an' roll down
+his cheeks, an' den she looked de mist'ess full in de face, an' 'thout
+a word dropped her a low curtsey.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I come de las'.  She looked at me for a minute wid her eyes
+a-swimmin', an' den she th'owed her arms roun' my neck an' hugged an'
+kissed me, an' den I see an arm slip 'roun' her wais' an' lif her in de
+coach.  Den de horses 'gin a plunge an' dey was off.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"An' arter dat dey had five years&mdash;de happiest years dem two ever seen.
+I know, 'cause Marse Henry gin me to her, an' I lived wid 'em day in
+an' day out till dat baby come, an' den&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Aunt Chloe stopped and reached out her hand as if to steady herself.
+The tears were streaming down her cheeks.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then she advanced a step, fixed her eyes on the portrait, and in a
+voice broken with emotion, said:&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Honey, chile,&mdash;honey, chile,&mdash;is you tired a-waitin' for yo' ole
+mammy?  Keep a-watchin', honey&mdash;keep a-watchin'&mdash;It won't be long now
+'fore I come.  Keep a-watchin'."
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap15"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+BY THE WATERS OF PARADISE
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By F. MARION CRAWFORD
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+Copyright 1894 by G. P. Putnam's Sons.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+I
+</H4>
+
+<P>
+I remember my childhood very distinctly.  I do not think that the fact
+argues a good memory, for I have never been clever at learning words by
+heart, in prose or rhyme; so that I believe my remembrance of events
+depends much more upon the events themselves than upon my possessing
+any special facility for recalling them.  Perhaps I am too imaginative,
+and the earliest impressions I received were of a kind to stimulate the
+imagination abnormally.  A long series of little misfortunes, so
+connected with each other as to suggest a sort of weird fatality, so
+worked upon my melancholy temperament when I was a boy that, before I
+was of age, I sincerely believed myself to be under a curse, and not
+only myself, but my whole family and every individual who bore my name.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I was born in the old place where my father, and his father, and all
+his predecessors had been born, beyond the memory of man.  It is a very
+old house, and the greater part of it was originally a castle, strongly
+fortified, and surrounded by a steep moat supplied with abundant water
+from the hills by a hidden aqueduct.  Many of the fortifications have
+been destroyed, and the moat has been filled up.  The water from the
+aqueduct supplies great fountains, and runs down into huge oblong
+basins in the terraced gardens, one below the other, each surrounded by
+a broad pavement of marble between the water and the flower-beds.  The
+waste surplus finally escapes through an artificial grotto, some thirty
+yards long, into a stream, flowing down through the park to the meadows
+beyond, and thence to the distant river.  The buildings were extended a
+little and greatly altered more than two hundred years ago, in the time
+of Charles II., but since then little has been done to improve them,
+though they have been kept in fairly good repair, according to our
+fortunes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In the gardens there are terraces and huge hedges of box and evergreen,
+some of which used to be clipped into shapes of animals, in the Italian
+style.  I can remember when I was a lad how I used to try to make out
+what the trees were cut to represent, and how I used to appeal for
+explanations to Judith, my Welsh nurse.  She dealt in a strange
+mythology of her own, and peopled the gardens with griffins, dragons,
+good genii and bad, and filled my mind with them at the same time.  My
+nursery window afforded a view of the great fountains at the head of
+the upper basin, and on moonlight nights the Welshwoman would hold me
+up to the glass and bid me look at the mist and spray rising into
+mysterious shapes, moving mystically in the white light like living
+things.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's the Woman of the Water," she used to say; and sometimes she would
+threaten that if I did not go to sleep the Woman of the Water would
+steal up to the high window and carry me away in her wet arms.
+</P>
+
+<A NAME="img-256"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-256.jpg" ALT="F. Hopkinson Smith" BORDER="0" WIDTH="400" HEIGHT="548">
+</CENTER>
+
+<P>
+The place was gloomy.  The broad basins of water and the tall evergreen
+hedges gave it a funereal look, and the damp-stained marble causeways
+by the pools might have been made of tombstones.  The gray and
+weather-beaten walls and towers without, the dark and massively
+furnished rooms within, the deep, mysterious recesses and the heavy
+curtains, all affected my spirits.  I was silent and sad from my
+childhood.  There was a great clock tower above, from which the hours
+rang dismally during the day, and tolled like a knell in the dead of
+night.  There was no light nor life in the house, for my mother was a
+helpless invalid, and my father had grown melancholy in his long task
+of caring for her.  He was a thin, dark man, with sad eyes; kind, I
+think, but silent and unhappy.  Next to my mother, I believe he loved
+me better than anything on earth, for he took immense pains and trouble
+in teaching me, and what he taught me I have never forgotten.  Perhaps
+it was his only amusement, and that may be the reason why I had no
+nursery governess or teacher of any kind while he lived.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I used to be taken to see my mother every day, and sometimes twice a
+day, for an hour at a time.  Then I sat upon a little stool near her
+feet, and she would ask me what I had been doing, and what I wanted to
+do.  I dare say she saw already the seeds of a profound melancholy in
+my nature, for she looked at me always with a sad smile, and kissed me
+with a sigh when I was taken away.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+One night, when I was just six years old, I lay awake in the nursery.
+The door was not quite shut, and the Welsh nurse was sitting sewing in
+the next room.  Suddenly I heard her groan, and say in a strange voice,
+"One&mdash;two&mdash;one&mdash;two!"  I was frightened, and I jumped up and ran to the
+door, barefooted as I was.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What is it, Judith?" I cried, clinging to her skirts.  I can remember
+the look in her strange dark eyes as she answered:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"One&mdash;two leaden coffins, fallen from the ceiling!" she crooned,
+working herself in her chair.  "One&mdash;two&mdash;a light coffin and a heavy
+coffin, falling to the floor!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then she seemed to notice me, and she took me back to bed and sang me
+to sleep with a queer old Welsh song.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I do not know how it was, but the impression got hold of me that she
+had meant that my father and mother were going to die very soon.  They
+died in the very room where she had been sitting that night.  It was a
+great room, my day nursery, full of sun when there was any; and when
+the days were dark it was the most cheerful place in the house.  My
+mother grew rapidly worse, and I was transferred to another part of the
+building to make place for her.  They thought my nursery was gayer for
+her, I suppose; but she could not live.  She was beautiful when she was
+dead, and I cried bitterly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The light one, the light one&mdash;the heavy one to come," crooned the
+Welshwoman.  And she was right.  My father took the room after my
+mother was gone, and day by day he grew thinner and paler and sadder.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The heavy one, the heavy one&mdash;all of lead," moaned my nurse, one night
+in December, standing still, just as she was going to take away the
+light after putting me to bed.  Then she took me up again and wrapped
+me in a little gown, and led me away to my father's room.  She knocked,
+but no one answered.  She opened the door, and we found him in his easy
+chair before the fire, very white, quite dead.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So I was alone with the Welshwoman till strange people came, and
+relations whom I had never seen; and then I heard them saying that I
+must be taken away to some more cheerful place.  They were kind people,
+and I will not believe that they were kind only because I was to be
+very rich when I grew to be a man.  The world never seemed to be a very
+bad place to me, nor all the people to be miserable sinners, even when
+I was most melancholy.  I do not remember that any one ever did me any
+great injustice, nor that I was ever oppressed or ill-treated in any
+way, even by the boys at school.  I was sad, I suppose, because my
+childhood was so gloomy, and, later, because I was unlucky in
+everything I undertook, till I finally believed I was pursued by fate,
+and I used to dream that the old Welsh nurse and the Woman of the Water
+between them had vowed to pursue me to my end.  But my natural
+disposition should have been cheerful, as I have often thought.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Among the lads of my age I was never last, or even among the last, in
+anything; but I was never first.  If I trained for a race, I was sure
+to sprain my ankle on the day when I was to run.  If I pulled an oar
+with others, my oar was sure to break.  If I competed for a prize, some
+unforeseen accident prevented my winning it at the last moment.
+Nothing to which I put my hand succeeded, and I got the reputation of
+being unlucky, until my companions felt it was always safe to bet
+against me, no matter what the appearances might be.  I became
+discouraged and listless in everything.  I gave up the idea of
+competing for any distinction at the University, comforting myself with
+the thought that I could not fail in the examination for the ordinary
+degree.  The day before the examination began I fell ill; and when at
+last I recovered, after a narrow escape from death, I turned my back
+upon Oxford, and went down alone to visit the old place where I had
+been born, feeble in health and profoundly disgusted and discouraged.
+I was twenty-one years of age, master of myself and of my fortune; but
+so deeply had the long chain of small unlucky circumstances affected me
+that I thought seriously of shutting myself up from the world to live
+the life of a hermit and to die as soon as possible.  Death seemed the
+only cheerful possibility in my existence, and my thoughts soon dwelt
+upon it altogether.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I had never shown any wish to return to my own home since I had been
+taken away as a little boy, and no one had ever pressed me to do so.
+The place had been kept in order after a fashion, and did not seem to
+have suffered during the fifteen years or more of my absence.  Nothing
+earthly could affect those old gray walls that had fought the elements
+for so many centuries.  The garden was more wild than I remembered it;
+the marble causeways about the pools looked more yellow and damp than
+of old, and the whole place at first looked smaller.  It was not until
+I had wandered about the house and grounds for many hours that I
+realized the huge size of the home where, I was to live in solitude.
+Then I began to delight in it, and my resolution to live alone grew
+stronger.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The people had turned out to welcome me, of course, and I tried to
+recognize the changed faces of the old gardener and the old
+housekeeper, and to call them by name.  My old nurse I knew at once.
+She had grown very gray since she heard the coffins fall in the nursery
+fifteen years before, but her strange eyes were the same, and the look
+in them woke all my old memories.  She went over the house with me.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And how is the Woman of the Water?" I asked, trying to laugh a little.
+"Does she still play in the moonlight?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"She is hungry," answered the Welshwoman, in a low voice.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hungry?  Then we will feed her."  I laughed.  But old Judith turned
+very pale, and looked at me strangely.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Feed her?  Ay&mdash;you will feed her well," she muttered, glancing behind
+her at the ancient housekeeper, who tottered after us with feeble steps
+through the halls and passages.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I did not think much of her words.  She had always talked oddly, as
+Welshwomen will, and though I was very melancholy I am sure I was not
+superstitious, and I was certainly not timid.  Only, as in a far-off
+dream, I seemed to see her standing with the light in her hand and
+muttering, "The heavy one&mdash;all of lead," and then leading a little boy
+through the long corridors to see his father lying dead in a great easy
+chair before a smouldering fire.  So we went over the house, and I
+chose the rooms where I would live; and the servants I had brought with
+me ordered and arranged everything, and I had no more trouble.  I did
+not care what they did provided I was left in peace and was not
+expected to give directions; for I was more listless than ever, owing
+to the effects of my illness at college.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I dined in solitary state, and the melancholy grandeur of the vast old
+dining-room pleased me.  Then I went to the room I had selected for my
+study, and sat down in a deep chair, under a bright light, to think, or
+to let my thoughts meander through labyrinths of their own choosing,
+utterly indifferent to the course they might take.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The tall windows of the room opened to the level of the ground upon the
+terrace at the head of the garden.  It was in the end of July, and
+everything was open, for the weather was warm.  As I sat alone I heard
+the unceasing splash of the great fountains, and I fell to thinking of
+the Woman of the Water.  I rose and went out into the still night, and
+sat down upon a seat on the terrace, between two gigantic Italian
+flower-pots.  The air was deliciously soft and sweet with the smell of
+the flowers, and the garden was more congenial to me than the house.
+Sad people always like running water and the sound of it at night,
+though I cannot tell why.  I sat and listened in the gloom, for it was
+dark below, and the pale moon had not yet climbed over the hills in
+front of me, though all the air above was light with her rising beams.
+Slowly the white halo in the eastern sky ascended in an arch above the
+wooded crests, making the outlines of the mountains more intensely
+black by contrast, as though the head of some great white saint were
+rising from behind a screen in a vast cathedral, throwing misty glories
+from below.  I longed to see the moon herself, and I tried to reckon
+the seconds before she must appear.  Then she sprang up quickly, and in
+a moment more hung round and perfect in the sky.  I gazed at her, and
+then at the floating spray of the tall fountains, and down at the
+pools, where the waterlilies were rocking softly in their sleep on the
+velvet surface of the moonlit water.  Just then a great swan floated
+out silently into the midst of the basin, and wreathed his long neck,
+catching the water in his broad bill, and scattering showers of
+diamonds around him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Suddenly, as I gazed, something came between me and the light.  I
+looked up instantly.  Between me and the round disk of the moon rose a
+luminous face of a woman, with great strange eyes, and a woman's mouth,
+full and soft, but not smiling, hooded in black, staring at me as I sat
+still upon my bench.  She was close to me&mdash;so close that I could have
+touched her with my hand.  But I was transfixed and helpless.  She
+stood still for a moment, but her expression did not change.  Then she
+passed swiftly away, and my hair stood up on my head, while the cold
+breeze from her white dress was wafted to my temples as she moved.  The
+moonlight, shining through the tossing spray of the fountain, made
+traceries of shadow on the gleaming folds of her garments.  In an
+instant she was gone and I was alone.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I was strangely shaken by the vision, and some time passed before I
+could rise to my feet, for I was still weak from my illness, and the
+sight I had seen would have startled any one.  I did not reason with
+myself, for I was certain that I had looked on the unearthly, and no
+argument could have destroyed that belief.  At last I got up and stood
+unsteadily, gazing in the direction in which I thought the face had
+gone; but there was nothing to be seen&mdash;nothing but the broad paths,
+the tall, dark evergreen hedges, the tossing water of the fountains and
+the smooth pool below.  I fell back upon the seat and recalled the face
+I had seen.  Strange to say, now that the first impression had passed,
+there was nothing startling in the recollection; on the contrary, I
+felt that I was fascinated by the face, and would give anything to see
+it again.  I could retrace the beautiful straight features, the long
+dark eyes, and the wonderful mouth most exactly in my mind, and when I
+had reconstructed every detail from memory I knew that the whole was
+beautiful, and that I should love a woman with such a face.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I wonder whether she is the Woman of the Water!" I said to myself.
+Then rising once more, I wandered down the garden, descending one short
+flight of steps after another from terrace to terrace by the edge of
+the marble basins, through the shadow and through the moonlight; and I
+crossed the water by the rustic bridge above the artificial grotto, and
+climbed slowly up again to the highest terrace by the other side.  The
+air seemed sweeter, and I was very calm, so that I think I smiled to
+myself as I walked, as though a new happiness had come to me.  The
+woman's face seemed always before me, and the thought of it gave me an
+unwonted thrill of pleasure, unlike anything I had ever felt before.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I turned as I reached the house, and looked back upon the scene.  It
+had certainly changed in the short hour since I had come out, and my
+mood had changed with it.  Just like my luck, I thought, to fall in
+love with a ghost!  But in old times I would have sighed; and gone to
+bed more sad than ever, at such a melancholy conclusion.  To-night I
+felt happy, almost for the first time in my life.  The gloomy old study
+seemed cheerful when I went in.  The old pictures on the walls smiled
+at me, and I sat down in my deep chair with a new and delightful
+sensation that I was not alone.  The idea of having seen a ghost, and
+of feeling much the better for it, was so absurd that I laughed softly,
+as I took up one of the books I had brought with me and began to read.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That impression did not wear off.  I slept peacefully, and in the
+morning I threw open my windows to the summer air and looked down at
+the garden, at the stretches of green and at the colored flower-beds,
+at the circling swallows and at the bright water.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A man might make a paradise of this place," I exclaimed.  "A man and a
+woman together!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+From that day the old Castle no longer seemed gloomy, and I think I
+ceased to be sad; for some time, too, I began to take an interest in
+the place, and to try and make it more alive.  I avoided my old Welsh
+nurse, lest she should damp my humor with some dismal prophecy, and
+recall my old self by bringing back memories of my dismal childhood.
+But what I thought of most was the ghostly figure I had seen in the
+garden that first night after my arrival.  I went out every evening and
+wandered through the walks and paths; but, try as I might, I did not
+see my vision again.  At last, after many days, the memory grew more
+faint, and my old moody nature gradually overcame the temporary sense
+of lightness I had experienced.  The summer turned to autumn, and I
+grew restless.  It began to rain.  The dampness pervaded the gardens,
+and the outer halls smelled musty, like tombs; the gray sky oppressed
+me intolerably.  I left the place as it was and went abroad, determined
+to try anything which might possibly make a second break in the
+monotonous melancholy from which I suffered.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+II
+</H4>
+
+<P>
+Most people would be struck by the utter insignificance of the small
+events which, after the death of my parents, influenced my life and
+made me unhappy.  The gruesome forebodings of a Welsh nurse, which
+chanced to be realized by an odd coincidence of events, should not seem
+enough to change the nature of a child and to direct the bent of his
+character in after years.  The little disappointments of schoolboy
+life, and the somewhat less childish ones of an uneventful and
+undistinguished academic career, should not have sufficed to turn me
+out at one-and-twenty-years of age a melancholic, listless idler.  Some
+weakness of my own character may have contributed to the result, but in
+a greater degree it was due to my having a reputation for bad luck.
+However, I will not try to analyze the causes of my state, for I should
+satisfy nobody, least of all myself.  Still less will I attempt to
+explain why I felt a temporary revival of my spirits after my adventure
+in the garden.  It is certain that I was in love with the face I had
+seen, and that I longed to see it again; that I gave up all hope of a
+second visitation, grew more sad than ever, packed up my traps, and
+finally went abroad.  But in my dreams I went back to my home, and it
+always appeared to me sunny and bright, as it had looked on that
+summer's morning after I had seen the woman by the fountain.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I went to Paris.  I went farther, and wandered about Germany.  I tried
+to amuse myself, and I failed miserably.  With the aimless whims of an
+idle and useless man come all sorts of suggestions for good
+resolutions.  One day I made up my mind that I would go and bury myself
+in a German university for a time, and live simply like a poor student.
+I started with the intention of going to Leipzig, determined to stay
+there until some event should direct my life or change my humor, or
+make an end of me altogether.  The express train stopped at some
+station of which I did not know the name.  It was dusk on a winter's
+afternoon, and I peered through the thick glass from my seat.  Suddenly
+another train came gliding in from the opposite direction, and stopped
+alongside of ours.  I looked at the carriage which chanced to be
+abreast of mine, and idly read the black letters painted on a white
+board swinging from the brass handrail: Berlin&mdash;Cologne&mdash;Paris.  Then I
+looked up at the window above.  I started violently, and the cold
+perspiration broke out upon my forehead.  In the dim light, not six
+feet from where I sat, I saw the face of a woman, the face I loved, the
+straight, fine features, the strange eyes, the wonderful mouth, the
+pale skin.  Her head-dress was a dark veil which seemed to be tied
+about her head and passed over the shoulders under her chin.  As I
+threw down the window and knelt on the cushioned seat, leaning far out
+to get a better view, a long whistle screamed through the station,
+followed by a quick series of dull, clanking sounds; then there was a
+slight jerk, and my train moved on.  Luckily the window was narrow,
+being the one over the seat, beside the door, or I believe I would have
+jumped out of it then and there.  In an instant the speed increased,
+and I was being carried swiftly away in the opposite direction from the
+thing I loved.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For a quarter of an hour I lay back in my place, stunned by the
+suddenness of the apparition.  At last one of the two other passengers,
+a large and gorgeous captain of the White Konigsberg Cuirassiers,
+civilly but firmly suggested that I might shut my window, as the
+evening was cold.  I did so, with an apology, and relapsed into
+silence.  The train ran swiftly on for a long time, and it was already
+beginning to slacken speed before entering another station, when I
+roused myself and made a sudden resolution.  As the carriage stopped
+before the brilliantly lighted platform, I seized my belongings,
+saluted my fellow-passengers, and got out, determined to take the first
+express back to Paris.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This time the circumstances of the vision had been so natural that it
+did not strike me that there was anything unreal about the face, or
+about the woman to whom it belonged.  I did not try to explain to
+myself how the face, and the woman, could be travelling by a fast train
+from Berlin to Paris on a winter's afternoon, when both were in my mind
+indelibly associated with the moonlight and the fountains in my own
+English home.  I certainly would not have admitted that I had been
+mistaken in the dusk, attributing to what I had seen a resemblance to
+my former vision which did not really exist.  There was not the
+slightest doubt in my mind, and I was positively sure that I had again
+seen the face I loved.  I did not hesitate, and in a few hours I was on
+my way back to Paris.  I could not help reflecting on my ill luck.
+Wandering as I had been for many months, it might as easily have
+chanced that I should be travelling in the same train with that woman,
+instead of going the other way.  But my luck was destined to turn for a
+time.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I searched Paris for several days.  I dined at the principal hotels; I
+went to the theatres; I rode in the Bois de Boulogne in the morning,
+and picked up an acquaintance, whom I forced to drive with me in the
+afternoon.  I went to mass at the Madeleine, and I attended the
+services at the English Church.  I hung about the Louvre and Notre
+Dame.  I went to Versailles.  I spent hours in parading the Rue de
+Rivoli, in the neighborhood of Meurice's corner, where foreigners pass
+and repass from morning till night.  At last I received an invitation
+to a reception at the English Embassy.  I went, and I found what I had
+sought so long.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There she was, sitting by an old lady in gray satin and diamonds, who
+had a wrinkled but kindly face and keen gray eyes that seemed to take
+in everything they saw, with very little inclination to give much in
+return.  But I did not notice the chaperon.  I saw only the face that
+had haunted me for months, and in the excitement of the moment I walked
+quickly towards the pair, forgetting such a trifle as the necessity for
+an introduction.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She was far more beautiful than I had thought, but I never doubted that
+it was she herself and no other.  Vision or no vision before, this was
+the reality, and I knew it.  Twice her hair had been covered, now at
+last I saw it, and the added beauty of its magnificence glorified the
+whole woman.  It was rich hair, fine and abundant, golden, with deep
+ruddy tints in it like red bronze spun fine.  There was no ornament in
+it, not a rose, not a thread of gold, and I felt that it needed nothing
+to enhance its splendor; nothing but her pale face, her dark strange
+eyes, and her heavy eyebrows.  I could see that she was slender too,
+but strong withal, as she sat there quietly gazing at the moving scene
+in the midst of the brilliant lights and the hum of perpetual
+conversation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I recollected the detail of introduction in time, and turned aside to
+look for my host.  I found him at last.  I begged him to present me to
+the two ladies, pointing them out to him at the same time.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes&mdash;uh&mdash;by all means&mdash;uh," replied his Excellency with a pleasant
+smile.  He evidently had no idea of my name, which was not to be
+wondered at.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am Lord Cairngorm," I observed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh&mdash;by all means," answered the Ambassador with the same hospitable
+smile.  "Yes&mdash;uh&mdash;the fact is, I must try and find out who they are;
+such lots of people, you know."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, if you will present me, I will try and find out for you," said I,
+laughing.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, yes&mdash;so kind of you&mdash;come along," said my host.  We threaded the
+crowd, and in a few minutes we stood before the two ladies.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Lowmintrduce L'd Cairngorm," he said; then, adding quickly to me,
+"Come and dine to-morrow, won't you?" he glided away with his pleasant
+smile and disappeared in the crowd.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I sat down beside the beautiful girl, conscious that the eyes of the
+duenna were upon me.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I think we have been very near meeting before," I remarked, by way of
+opening the conversation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+My companion turned her eyes full upon me with an air of inquiry.  She
+evidently did not recall my face, if she had ever seen me.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Really&mdash;I cannot remember," she observed, in a low and musical voice.
+"When?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"In the first place, you came down from Berlin by the express ten days
+ago.  I was going the other way, and our carriages stopped opposite
+each other.  I saw you at the window."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes&mdash;we came that way, but I do not remember&mdash;"  She hesitated.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Secondly," I continued, "I was sitting alone in my garden last
+summer&mdash;near the end of July&mdash;do you remember?  You must have wandered
+in there through the park; you came up to the house and looked at me&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Was that you?" she asked, in evident surprise.  Then she broke into a
+laugh.  "I told everybody I had seen a ghost; there had never been any
+Cairngorms in the place since the memory of man.  We left the next day,
+and never heard that you had come there; indeed, I did not know the
+castle belonged to you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Where were you staying?" I asked
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Where?  Why, with my aunt, where I always stay.  She is your neighbor,
+since it <I>is</I> you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I&mdash;beg your pardon&mdash;but then&mdash;is your aunt Lady Bluebell?  I did not
+quite catch&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Don't be afraid.  She is amazingly deaf.  Yes.  She is the relict of
+my beloved uncle, the sixteenth or seventeenth Baron Bluebell&mdash;I forget
+exactly how many of them there have been.  And I&mdash;do you know who I
+am?"  She laughed, well knowing that I did not.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No," I answered frankly.  "I have not the least idea.  I asked to be
+introduced because I recognized you.  Perhaps&mdash;perhaps you are a Miss
+Bluebell?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Considering that you are a neighbor, I will tell you who I am," she
+answered.  "No; I am of the tribe of Bluebells, but my name is Lammas,
+and I have been given to understand that I was christened Margaret.
+Being a floral family, they call me Daisy.  A dreadful American man
+once told me that my aunt was a Bluebell and that I was a
+Harebell&mdash;with two l's and an e&mdash;because my hair is so thick.  I warn
+you, so that you may avoid making such a bad pun."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Do I look like a man who makes puns?" I asked, being very conscious of
+my melancholy face and sad looks.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Miss Lammas eyed me critically.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No; you have a mournful temperament.  I think I can trust you," she
+answered.  "Do you think you could communicate to my aunt the fact that
+you are a Cairngorm and a neighbor?  I am sure she would like to know."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I leaned towards the old lady, inflating my lungs for a yell.  But Miss
+Lammas stopped me.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That is not of the slightest use," she remarked.  "You can write it on
+a bit of paper.  She is utterly deaf."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I have a pencil," I answered; "but I have no paper.  Would my cuff do,
+do you think?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, yes!" replied Miss Lammas, with alacrity; "men often do that."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I wrote on my cuff: "Miss Lammas wishes me to explain that I am your
+neighbor, Cairngorm."  Then I held out my arm before the old lady's
+nose.  She seemed perfectly accustomed to the proceeding, put up her
+glasses, read the words, smiled, nodded, and addressed me in the
+unearthly voice peculiar to people who hear nothing.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I knew your grandfather very well," she said.  Then she smiled and
+nodded to me again, and to her niece, and relapsed into silence.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is all right," remarked Miss Lammas.  "Aunt Bluebell knows she is
+deaf, and does not say much, like the parrot.  You see, she knew your
+grandfather.  How odd that we should be neighbors!  Why have we never
+met before?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If you had told me you knew my grandfather when you appeared in the
+garden, I should not have been in the least surprised," I answered
+rather irrelevantly.  "I really thought you were the ghost of the old
+fountain.  How in the world did you come there at that hour?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We were a large party and we went out for a walk.  Then we thought we
+should like to see what your park was like in the moonlight, and so we
+trespassed.  I got separated from the rest, and came upon you by
+accident, just as I was admiring the extremely ghostly look of your
+house, and wondering whether anybody would ever come and live there
+again.  It looks like the castle of Macbeth, or a scene from the opera.
+Do you know anybody here?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Hardly a soul!  Do you?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No.  Aunt Bluebell said it was our duty to come.  It is easy for her
+to go out; she does not bear the burden of the conversation."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am sorry you find it a burden," said I.  "Shall I go away?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Miss Lammas looked at me with a sudden gravity in her beautiful eyes,
+and there was a sort of hesitation about the lines of her full, soft
+mouth.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No," she said at last, quite simply, "don't go away.  We may like each
+other, if you stay a little longer&mdash;and we ought to, because we are
+neighbors in the country."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I suppose I ought to have thought Miss Lammas a very odd girl.  There
+is, indeed, a sort of freemasonry between people who discover that they
+live near each other and that they ought to have known each other
+before.  But there was a sort of unexpected frankness and simplicity in
+the girl's amusing manner which would have struck any one else as being
+singular, to say the least of it.  To me, however, it all seemed
+natural enough.  I had dreamed of her face too long not to be utterly
+happy when I met her at last and could talk to her as much as I
+pleased.  To me, the man of ill luck in everything, the whole meeting
+seemed too good to be true.  I felt again that strange sensation of
+lightness which I had experienced after I had seen her face in the
+garden.  The great rooms seemed brighter, life seemed worth living; my
+sluggish, melancholy blood ran faster, and filled me with a new sense
+of strength.  I said to myself that without this woman I was but an
+imperfect being, but that with her I could accomplish everything to
+which I should set my hand.  Like the great Doctor, when he thought he
+had cheated Mephistopheles at last, I could have cried aloud to the
+fleeting moment, <I>Verweile dock, du bist so schön</I>!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Are you always gay?" I asked, suddenly.  "How happy you must be!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The days would sometimes seem very long if I were gloomy," she
+answered, thoughtfully.  "Yes, I think I find life very pleasant, and I
+tell it so."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How can you 'tell life' anything?" I inquired.  "If I could catch my
+life and talk to it, I would abuse it prodigiously, I assure you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I dare say.  You have a melancholy temper.  You ought to live
+out-of-doors, dig potatoes; make hay, shoot, hunt, tumble into ditches,
+and come home muddy and hungry for dinner.  It would be much better for
+you than moping in your rook tower and hating everything."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is rather lonely down there," I murmured, apologetically, feeling
+that Miss Lammas was quite right.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then marry, and quarrel with your wife," she laughed.  "Anything is
+better than being alone."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am a very peaceable person.  I never quarrel with anybody.  You can
+try it.  You will find it quite impossible."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Will you let me try?" she asked, still smiling.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"By all means&mdash;especially if it is to be only a preliminary canter," I
+answered, rashly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What do you mean?" she inquired, turning quickly upon me.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh&mdash;nothing.  You might try my paces with a view to quarrelling in the
+future.  I cannot imagine how you are going to do it.  You will have to
+resort to immediate and direct abuse."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No.  I will only say that if you do not like your life, it is your own
+fault.  How can a man of your age talk of being melancholy, or of the
+hollowness of existence?  Are you consumptive?  Are you subject to
+hereditary insanity?  Are you deaf, like Aunt Bluebell?  Are you poor,
+like&mdash;lots of people?  Have you been crossed in love?  Have you lost
+the world for a woman, or any particular woman for the sake of the
+world?  Are you feeble-minded, a cripple, an outcast?  Are
+you&mdash;repulsively ugly?"  She laughed again.  "Is there any reason in
+the world why you should not enjoy all you have got in life?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No.  There is no reason whatever, except that I am dreadfully unlucky,
+especially in small things."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then try big things, just for a change," suggested Miss Lammas.  "Try
+and get married, for instance, and see how it turns out."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If it turned out badly it would be rather serious."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Not half so serious as it is to abuse everything unreasonably.  If
+abuse is your particular talent, abuse something that ought to be
+abused.  Abuse the Conservatives&mdash;or the Liberals&mdash;it does not matter
+which, since they are always abusing each other.  Make yourself felt by
+other people.  You will like it, if they don't.  It will make a man of
+you.  Fill your mouth with pebbles, and howl at the sea, if you cannot
+do anything else.  It did Demosthenes no end of good, you know.  You
+will have the satisfaction of imitating a great man."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Really, Miss Lammas, I think the list of innocent exercises you
+propose&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Very well&mdash;if you don't care for that sort of thing, care for some
+other sort of thing.  Care for something, or hate something.  Don't be
+idle.  Life is short, and though art may be long, plenty of noise
+answers nearly as well."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I do care for something&mdash;I mean, somebody," I said.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A woman?  Then marry her.  Don't hesitate."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I do not know whether she would marry me," I replied.  "I have never
+asked her."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then ask her at once," answered Miss Lammas.  "I shall die happy if I
+feel I have persuaded a melancholy fellow-creature to rouse himself to
+action.  Ask her, by all means, and see what she says.  If she does not
+accept you at once, she may take you the next time.  Meanwhile, you
+will have entered for the race.  If you lose, there are the 'All-aged
+Trial Stakes,' and the 'Consolation Race.'"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And plenty of selling races into the bargain.  Shall I take you at
+your word, Miss Lammas?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I hope you will," she answered.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Since you yourself advise me, I will.  Miss Lammas, will you do me the
+honor to marry me?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For the first time in my life the blood rushed to my head and my sight
+swam.  I cannot tell why I said it.  It would be useless to try to
+explain the extraordinary fascination the girl exercised over me, or
+the still more extraordinary feeling of intimacy with her which had
+grown in me during that half-hour.  Lonely, sad, unlucky as I had been
+all my life, I was certainly not timid, nor even shy.  But to propose
+to marry a woman after half an hour's acquaintance was a piece of
+madness of which I never believed myself capable, and of which I should
+never be capable again, could I be placed in the same situation.  It
+was as though my whole being had been changed in a moment by magic&mdash;by
+the white magic of her nature brought into contact with mine.  The
+blood sank back to my heart, and a moment later I found myself staring
+at her with anxious eyes.  To my amazement she was as calm as ever, but
+her beautiful mouth smiled, and there was a mischievous light in her
+dark-brown eyes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Fairly caught," she answered.  "For an individual who pretends to be
+listless and sad you are not lacking in humor.  I had really not the
+least idea what you were going to say.  Wouldn't it be singularly
+awkward for you if I had said 'Yes'?  I never saw anybody begin to
+practise so sharply what was preached to him&mdash;with so very little loss
+of time!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You probably never met a man who had dreamed of you for seven months
+before being introduced."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, I never did," she answered gaily.  "It smacks of the romantic.
+Perhaps you are a romantic character, after all.  I should think you
+were if I believed you.  Very well; you have taken my advice, entered
+for a Stranger's Race and lost it.  Try the All-aged Trial Stakes.  You
+have another cuff, and a pencil.  Propose to Aunt Bluebell; she would
+dance with astonishment, and she might recover her hearing."
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+III
+</H4>
+
+<P>
+That was how I first asked Margaret Lammas to be my wife, and I will
+agree with any one who says I behaved very foolishly.  But I have not
+repented of it, and I never shall.  I have long ago understood that I
+was out of my mind that evening, but I think my temporary insanity on
+that occasion has had the effect of making me a saner man ever since.
+Her manner turned my head, for it was so different from what I had
+expected.  To hear this lovely creature, who, in my imagination, was a
+heroine of romance, if not of tragedy, talking familiarly and laughing
+readily was more than my equanimity could bear, and I lost my head as
+well as my heart.  But when I went back to England in the spring, I
+went to make certain arrangements at the Castle&mdash;certain changes and
+improvements which would be absolutely necessary.  I had won the race
+for which I had entered myself so rashly, and we were to be married in
+June.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Whether the change was due to the orders I had left with the gardener
+and the rest of the servants, or to my own state of mind, I cannot
+tell.  At all events, the old place did not look the same to me when I
+opened my window on the morning after my arrival.  There were the gray
+walls below me and the gray turrets flanking the huge building; there
+were the fountains, the marble causeways, the smooth basins, the tall
+box hedges, the water-lilies, and the swans, just as of old.  But there
+was something else there, too&mdash;something in the air, in the water, and
+in the greenness that I did not recognize&mdash;a light over everything by
+which everything was transfigured.  The clock in the tower struck
+seven, and the strokes of the ancient bell sounded like a wedding
+chime.  The air sang with the thrilling treble of the song-birds, with
+the silvery music of the plashing water and the softer harmony of the
+leaves stirred by the fresh morning wind.  There was a smell of
+new-mown hay from the distant meadows, and of blooming roses from the
+beds below, wafted up together to my window.  I stood in the pure
+sunshine and drank the air and all the sounds and the odors that were
+in it; and I looked down at my garden and said: "It is Paradise, after
+all."  I think the men of old were right when they called heaven a
+garden, and Eden a garden inhabited by one man and one woman, the
+Earthly Paradise.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I turned away, wondering what had become of the gloomy memories I had
+always associated with my home.  I tried to recall the impression of my
+nurse's horrible prophecy before the death of my parents&mdash;an impression
+which hitherto had been vivid enough.  I tried to remember my old self,
+my dejection, my listlessness, my bad luck, my petty disappointments.
+I endeavored to force myself to think as I used to think, if only to
+satisfy myself that I had not lost my individuality.  But I succeeded
+in none of these efforts.  I was a different man, a changed being,
+incapable of sorrow, of ill luck, or of sadness.  My life had been a
+dream, not evil, but infinitely gloomy and hopeless.  It was now a
+reality, full of hope, gladness, and all manner of good.  My home had
+been like a tomb; to-day it was Paradise.  My heart had been as though
+it had not existed; to-day it beat with strength and youth and the
+certainty of realized happiness.  I revelled in the beauty of the
+world, and called loveliness out of the future to enjoy it before time
+should bring it to me, as a traveller in the plains looks up to the
+mountains, and already tastes the cool air through the dust of the road.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Here, I thought, we will live and live for years.  There we will sit by
+the fountain towards evening and in the deep moonlight.  Down those
+paths we will wander together.  On those benches we will rest and talk.
+Among those eastern hills we will ride through the soft twilight, and
+in the old house we will tell tales on winter nights, when the logs
+burn high, and the holly berries are red, and the old clock tolls out
+the dying year.  On these old steps, in these dark passages and stately
+rooms, there will one day be the sound of little pattering feet, and
+laughing child-voices will ring up to the vaults of the ancient hall.
+Those tiny footsteps shall not be slow and sad as mine were, nor shall
+the childish words be spoken in an awed whisper.  No gloomy Welshwoman
+shall people the dusky corners with weird horrors, nor utter horrid
+prophecies of death and ghastly things.  All shall be young, and fresh,
+and joyful, and happy, and we will turn the old luck again, and forget
+that there was ever any sadness.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So I thought, as I looked out of my window that morning and for many
+mornings after that, and every day it all seemed more real than ever
+before, and much nearer.  But the old nurse looked at me askance, and
+muttered odd sayings about the Woman of the Water.  I cared little what
+she said, for I was far too happy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At last the time came near for the wedding.  Lady Bluebell and all the
+tribe of Bluebells, as Margaret called them, were at Bluebell Grange,
+for we had determined to be married in the country, and to come
+straight to the Castle afterwards.  We cared little for travelling, and
+not at all for a crowded ceremony at St George's in Hanover Square,
+with all the tiresome formalities afterwards.  I used to ride over to
+the Grange every day, and very often Margaret would come with her aunt
+and some of her consuls to the Castle.  I was suspicious of my own
+taste, and was only too glad to let her have her way about the
+alterations and improvements in our home.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We were to be married on the thirtieth of July, and on the evening of
+the twenty-eighth Margaret drove over with some of the Bluebell party.
+In the long summer twilight we all went out into the garden.  Naturally
+enough, Margaret and I were left to ourselves, and we wandered down by
+the marble basins.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is an odd coincidence," I said; "it was on this very night last
+year that I first saw you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Considering that it is the month of July," answered Margaret with a
+laugh, "and that we have been here almost every day, I don't think the
+coincidence is so extraordinary, after all."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, dear," said I, "I suppose not.  I don't know why it struck me.  We
+shall very likely be here a year from to-day, and a year from that.
+The odd thing, when I think of it, is that you should be here at all.
+But my luck has turned.  I ought not to think anything odd that happens
+now that I have you.  It is all sure to be good."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A slight change in your ideas since that remarkable performance of
+yours in Paris," said Margaret.  "Do you know, I thought you were the
+most extraordinary man I had ever met."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I thought you were the most charming woman I had ever seen.  I
+naturally did not want to lose any time in frivolities.  I took you at
+your word, I followed your advice, I asked you to marry me, and this is
+the delightful result&mdash;what's the matter?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Margaret had started suddenly, and her hand tightened on my arm.  An
+old woman was coming up the path, and was close to us before we saw
+her, for the moon had risen, and was shining full in our faces.  The
+woman turned out to be my old nurse.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's only Judith, dear&mdash;don't be frightened," I said.  Then I spoke to
+the Welshwoman: "What are you about, Judith?  Have you been feeding the
+Woman of the Water?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ay&mdash;when the clock strikes, Willie&mdash;my Lord, I mean," muttered the old
+creature, drawing aside to let us pass, and fixing her strange eyes on
+Margaret's face.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What does she mean?" asked Margaret, when we had gone by.&mdash;"Nothing,
+darling.  The old thing is mildly crazy, but she is a good soul."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We went on in silence for a few moments, and came to the rustic bridge
+just above the artificial grotto through which the water ran out into
+the park, dark and swift in its narrow channel.  We stopped, and leaned
+on the wooden rail.  The moon was now behind us, and shone full upon
+the long vista of basins and on the huge walls and towers of the Castle
+above.&mdash;"How proud you ought to be of such a grand old place!" said
+Margaret, softly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is yours now, darling," I answered.  "You have as good a right to
+love it as I&mdash;but I only love it because you are to live in it, dear."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Her hand stole out and lay on mine, and we were both silent.  Just then
+the clock began to strike far off in the tower.  I
+counted&mdash;eight&mdash;nine&mdash;ten&mdash;eleven&mdash;I looked at my
+watch&mdash;twelve&mdash;thirteen&mdash;I laughed.  The bell went on striking.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The old clock has gone crazy, like Judith," I exclaimed.  Still it
+went on, note after note ringing out monotonously through the still
+air.  We leaned over the rail, instinctively looking in the direction
+whence the sound came.  On and on it went.  I counted nearly a hundred,
+out of sheer curiosity, for I understood that something had broken and
+that the thing was running itself down.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Suddenly there was a crack as of breaking wood, a cry and a heavy
+splash, and I was alone, clinging to the broken end of the rail of the
+rustic bridge.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I do not think I hesitated while my pulse beat twice.  I sprang clear
+of the bridge into the black rushing water, dived to the bottom, came
+up again with empty hands, turned and swam downward through the grotto
+in the thick darkness, plunging and diving at every stroke, striking my
+head and hands against jagged stones and sharp corners, clutching at
+last something in my fingers and dragging it up with all my might.  I
+spoke, I cried aloud, but there was no answer.  I was alone in the
+pitchy darkness with my burden, and the house was five hundred yards
+away.  Struggling still, I felt the ground beneath my feet, I saw a ray
+of moonlight&mdash;the grotto widened, and the deep water became a broad and
+shallow brook as I stumbled over the stones and at last laid Margaret's
+body on the bank in the park beyond.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ay, Willie, as the clock struck!" said the voice of Judith, the Welsh
+nurse, as she bent down and looked at the white face.  The old woman
+must have turned back and followed us, seen the accident, and slipped
+out by the lower gate of the garden.  "Ay," she groaned, "you have fed
+the Woman of the Water this night, Willie, while the clock was
+striking."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I scarcely heard her as I knelt beside the lifeless body of the woman I
+loved, chafing the wet white temples and gazing wildly into the
+wide-staring eyes.  I remember only the first returning look of
+consciousness, the first heaving breath, the first movement of those
+dear hands stretching out towards me.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+That is not much of a story, you say.  It is the story of my life.
+That is all.  It does not pretend to be anything else.  Old Judith says
+my luck turned on that summer's night when I was struggling in the
+water to save all that was worth living for.  A month later there was a
+stone bridge above the grotto, and Margaret and I stood on it and
+looked up at the moonlit Castle, as we had done once before, and as we
+have done many times since.  For all those things happened ten years
+ago last summer, and this is the tenth Christmas Eve we have spent
+together by the roaring logs in the old hall, talking of old times; and
+every year there are more old times to talk of.  There are curly-headed
+boys, too, with red-gold hair and dark-brown eyes like their mother's,
+and a little Margaret, with solemn black eyes like mine.  Why could not
+she look like her mother, too, as well as the rest of them?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The world is very bright at this glorious Christmas time, and perhaps
+there is little use in calling up the sadness of long ago, unless it be
+to make the jolly fire-light seem more cheerful, the good wife's face
+look gladder, and to give the children's laughter a merrier ring, by
+contrast with all that is gone.  Perhaps, too, some sad faced,
+listless, melancholy youth, who feels that the world is very hollow,
+and that life is like a perpetual funeral service, just as I used to
+feel myself, may take courage from my example, and having found the
+woman of his heart, ask her to marry him after half an hour's
+acquaintance.  But, on the whole, I would not advise any man to marry,
+for the simple reason that no man will ever find a wife like mine, and
+being obliged to go farther, he will necessarily fare worse.  My wife
+has done miracles, but I will not assert that any other woman is able
+to follow her example.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Margaret always said that the old place was beautiful, and that I ought
+to be proud of it.  I dare say she is right.  She has even more
+imagination than I.  But I have a good answer and a plain one, which is
+this,&mdash;that all the beauty of the Castle comes from her.  She has
+breathed upon it all, as the children blow upon the cold glass
+window-panes in winter; and as their warm breath crystallizes into
+landscapes from fairyland, full of exquisite shapes and traceries upon
+the blank surface, so her spirit has transformed every gray stone of
+the old towers, every ancient tree and hedge in the gardens, every
+thought in my once melancholy self.  All that was old is young, and all
+that was sad is glad, and I am the gladdest of all.  Whatever heaven
+may be, there is no earthly paradise without woman, nor is there
+anywhere a place so desolate, so dreary, so unutterably miserable that
+a woman cannot make it seem heaven to the man she loves and who loves
+her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I hear certain cynics laugh, and cry that all that has been said
+before.  Do not laugh, my good cynic.  You are too small a man to laugh
+at such a great thing as love.  Prayers have been said before now by
+many, and perhaps you say yours, too.  I do not think they lose
+anything by being repeated, nor you by repeating them.  You say that
+the world is bitter, and full of the Waters of Bitterness.  Love, and
+so live that you may be loved&mdash;the world will turn sweet for you, and
+you shall rest like me by the Waters of Paradise.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap16"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+A MEMORABLE NIGHT
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+Copyright 1891 by Anna Katharine Green.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER I
+</H4>
+
+<P>
+I am a young physician of limited practice and great ambition.  At the
+time of the incidents I am about to relate, my office was in a
+respectable house in Twenty-fourth Street, New York City, and was
+shared, greatly to my own pleasure and convenience, by a clever young
+German whose acquaintance I had made in the hospital, and to whom I had
+become, in the one short year in which we had practised together, most
+unreasonably attached.  I say unreasonably, because it was a liking for
+which I could not account even to myself, as he was neither especially
+prepossessing in appearance nor gifted with any too great amiability of
+character.  He was, however, a brilliant theorist and an unquestionably
+trustworthy practitioner, and for these reasons probably I entertained
+for him a profound respect, and as I have already said a hearty and
+spontaneous affection.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As our specialties were the same, and as, moreover, they were of a
+nature which did not call for night-work, we usually spent the evening
+together.  But once I failed to join him at the office, and it is of
+this night I have to tell.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I had been over to Orange, for my heart was sore over the quarrel I had
+had with Dora, and I was resolved to make one final effort towards
+reconciliation.  But alas for my hopes, she was not at home; and, what
+was worse, I soon learned that she was going to sail the next morning
+for Europe.  This news, coming as it did without warning, affected me
+seriously, for I knew if she escaped from my influence at this time, I
+should certainly lose her forever; for the gentleman concerning whom we
+had quarrelled, was a much better match for her than I, and almost
+equally in love.  However, her father, who had always been my friend,
+did not look upon this same gentleman's advantages with as favorable an
+eye as she did, and when he heard I was in the house, he came hurrying
+into my presence, with excitement written in every line of his fine
+face.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, Dick, my boy," he exclaimed joyfully, "how opportune this is!  I
+was wishing you would come, for, do you know, Appleby has taken passage
+on board the same steamer as Dora, and if he and she cross together,
+they will certainly come to an understanding, and that will not be fair
+to you, or pleasing to me; and I do not care who knows it!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I gave him one look and sank, quite overwhelmed, into the seat nearest
+me.  Appleby was the name of my rival, and I quite agreed with her
+father that the tête-à-têtes afforded by an ocean voyage would surely
+put an end to the hopes which I had so long and secretly cherished.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Does she know he is going?  Did she encourage him?" I stammered.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But the old man answered genially: "Oh, she knows, but I cannot say
+anything positive about her having encouraged him.  The fact is, Dick,
+she still holds a soft place in her heart for you, and if you were
+going to be of the party&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I think you would come off conqueror yet."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then I will be of the party," I cried.  "It is only six now, and I can
+be in New York by seven.  That gives me five hours before midnight,
+time enough in which to arrange my plans, see Richter, and make
+everything ready for sailing in the morning."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dick, you are a trump!" exclaimed the gratified father.  "You have a
+spirit I like, and if Dora does not like it too, then I am mistaken in
+her good sense.  But can you leave your patients?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Just now I have but one patient who is in anything like a critical
+condition," I replied, "and her case Richter understands almost as well
+as I do myself.  I will have to see her this evening of course and
+explain, but there is time for that if I go now.  The steamer sails at
+nine?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Precisely."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Do not tell Dora that I expect to be there; let her be surprised.
+Dear girl, she is quite well, I hope?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, very well; only going over with her aunt to do some shopping.  A
+poor outlook for a struggling physician, you think.  Well, I don't know
+about that; she is just the kind of a girl to go from one extreme to
+another.  If she once loves you she will not care any longer about
+Paris fashions."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"She shall love me," I cried, and left him in a great hurry, to catch
+the first train for Hoboken.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It seemed wild, this scheme, but I determined to pursue it.  I loved
+Dora too much to lose her, and if three weeks' absence would procure me
+the happiness of my life, why should I hesitate to avail myself of the
+proffered opportunity.  I rode on air as the express I had taken shot
+from station to station, and by the time I had arrived at Christopher
+Street Ferry my plans were all laid and my time disposed of till
+midnight.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was therefore with no laggard step I hurried to my office, nor was
+it with any ordinary feelings of impatience that I found Richter out;
+for this was not his usual hour for absenting himself and I had much to
+tell him and many advices to give.  It was the first balk I had
+received and I was fuming over it, when I saw what looked like a
+package of books lying on the table before me, and though it was
+addressed to my partner, I was about to take it up, when I heard my
+name uttered in a tremulous tone, and turning, saw a man standing in
+the doorway, who, the moment I met his eye, advanced into the room and
+said:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"O doctor, I have been waiting for you an hour.  Mrs. Warner has been
+taken very bad, sir, and she prays that you will not delay a moment
+before coming to her.  It is something serious I fear, and she may have
+died already, for she would have no one else but you, and it is now an
+hour since I left her."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And who are you?" I asked, for though I knew Mrs. Warner well&mdash;she is
+the patient to whom I have already referred&mdash;I did not know her
+messenger.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am a servant in the house where she was taken ill."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then she is not at home?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, sir, she is in Second Avenue."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am very sorry," I began, "but I have not the time&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But he interrupted eagerly: "There is a carriage at the door; we
+thought you might not have your phaeton ready."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I had noticed the carriage.  "Very well," said I.  "I will go, but
+first let me write a line&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"O sir," the man broke in pleadingly, "do not wait for anything.  She
+is really very bad, and I heard her calling for you as I ran out of the
+house."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"She had her voice then?" I ventured, somewhat distrustful of the whole
+thing and yet not knowing how to refuse the man, especially as it was
+absolutely necessary for me to see Mrs. Warner that night and get her
+consent to my departure before I could think of making further plans.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So, leaving word for Richter to be sure and wait for me if he came home
+before I did, I signified to Mrs. Warner's messenger that I was ready
+to go with him, and immediately took a seat in the carriage which had
+been provided for me.  The man at once jumped up on the box beside the
+driver, and before I could close the carriage door we were off, riding
+rapidly down Seventh Avenue.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As we went the thought came, "What if Mrs. Warner will not let me off!"
+But I dismissed the fear at once, for this patient of mine is an
+extremely unselfish woman, and if she were not too ill to grasp the
+situation, would certainly sympathize with the strait I was in and
+consent to accept Richter's services in place of my own, especially as
+she knows and trusts him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When the carriage stopped it was already dark and I could distinguish
+little of the house I entered, save that it was large and old and did
+not look like an establishment where a man servant would be likely to
+be kept.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Is Mrs. Warner here?" I asked of the man who was slowly getting down
+from the box.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, sir," he answered quickly; and I was about to ring the bell
+before me, when the door opened and a young German girl, courtesying
+slightly, welcomed me in, saying:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mrs. Warner is upstairs, sir; in the front room, if you please."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Not doubting her, but greatly astonished at the barren aspect of the
+place I was in, I stumbled up the faintly lighted stairs before me and
+entered the great front room.  It was empty, but through an open door
+at the other end I heard a voice saying: "He has come, madam;" and
+anxious to see my patient, whose presence in this desolate house I
+found it harder and harder to understand, I stepped into the room where
+she presumably lay.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Alas! for my temerity in doing so; for no sooner had I crossed the
+threshold than the door by which I had entered closed with a click
+unlike any I had ever heard before, and when I turned to see what it
+meant, another click came from the opposite side of the room, and I
+perceived, with a benumbed sense of wonder, that the one person whose
+somewhat shadowy figure I had encountered on entering had vanished from
+the place, and that I was shut up alone in a room without visible means
+of egress.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This was startling, and hard to believe at first, but after I had tried
+the door by which I had entered and found it securely locked, and then
+bounding to the other side of the room, tried the opposite one with the
+same result, I could not but acknowledge I was caught.  What did it
+mean?  Caught, and I was in haste, mad haste.  Filling the room with my
+cries, I shouted for help and a quick release, but my efforts were
+naturally fruitless, and after exhausting myself in vain I stood still
+and surveyed, with what equanimity was left me, the appearance of the
+dreary place in which I had thus suddenly become entrapped.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER II
+</H4>
+
+<P>
+It was a small square room, and I shall not soon forget with what a
+foreboding shudder I observed that its four blank walls were literally
+unbroken by a single window, for this told me that I was in no
+communication with the street, and that it would be impossible for me
+to summon help from the outside world.  The single gas jet burning in a
+fixture hanging from the ceiling was the only relief given to the eye
+in the blank expanse of white wall that surrounded me; while as to
+furniture, the room could boast of nothing more than an old-fashioned
+black-walnut table and two chairs, the latter cushioned, but stiff in
+the back and generally dilapidated in appearance.  The only sign of
+comfort about me was a tray that stood on the table, containing a
+couple of bottles of wine and two glasses.  The bottles were full and
+the glasses clean, and to add to this appearance of hospitality a box
+of cigars rested invitingly near, which I could not fail to perceive,
+even at the first glance, were of the very best brand.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Astonished at these tokens of consideration for my welfare, and
+confounded by the prospect which they offered of a lengthy stay in this
+place, I gave another great shout; but to no better purpose than
+before.  Not a voice answered, and not a stir was heard in the house.
+But there came from without the faint sound of suddenly moving wheels,
+as if the carriage which I had left standing before the door had slowly
+rolled away.  If this were so, then was I indeed a prisoner, while the
+moments so necessary to my plans, and perhaps to the securing of my
+whole future happiness, were flying by like the wind.  As I realized
+this, and my own utter helplessness, I fell into one of the chairs
+before me in a state of perfect despair.  Not that any fears for my
+life were disturbing me, though one in my situation might well question
+if he would ever again breathe the open air from which he had been so
+ingeniously lured.  I did not in that first moment of utter
+downheartedness so much as inquire the reason for the trick which had
+been played upon me.  No, my heart was full of Dora, and I was asking
+myself if I were destined to lose her after all, and that through no
+lack of effort on my part, but just because a party of thieves or
+blackmailers had thought fit to play a game with my liberty.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It could not be; there must be some mistake about it; it was some great
+joke, or I was the victim of a dream, or suffering from some hideous
+nightmare.  Why, only a half hour before I was in my own office, among
+my own familiar belongings, and now&mdash;&mdash;  But, alas, it was no delusion.
+Only four blank, whitewashed walls met my inquiring eyes, and though I
+knocked and knocked again upon the two doors which guarded me on either
+side, hollow echoes continued to be the only answer I received.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Had the carriage then taken away the two persons I had seen in this
+house, and was I indeed alone in its great emptiness?  The thought made
+me desperate, but notwithstanding this I was resolved to continue my
+efforts, for I might be mistaken; there might yet be some being left
+who would yield to my entreaties, if they were backed by something
+substantial.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Taking out my watch, I laid it on the table; it was just a quarter to
+eight.  Then I emptied my trousers pockets of whatever money they held,
+and when all was heaped up before me, I could count but twelve dollars,
+which, together with my studs and a seal ring which I wore, seemed a
+paltry pittance with which to barter for the liberty of which I had
+been robbed.  But it was all I had with me, and I was willing to part
+with it at once if only some one would unlock the door and let me go.
+But how to make known my wishes even if there was any one to listen to
+them?  I had already called in vain, and there was no bell&mdash;yes, there
+was; why had I not seen it before?  There was a bell and I sprang to
+ring it.  But just as my hand fell on the cord, I heard a gentle voice
+behind my back saying in good English, but with a strong foreign accent:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Put up your money, Mr. Atwater; we do not want your money, only your
+society.  Allow me to beg you to replace both watch and money."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Wheeling about in my double surprise at the presence of this intruder
+and his unexpected acquaintance with my name, I encountered the smiling
+glance of a middle-aged man of genteel appearance and courteous
+manners.  He was bowing almost to the ground, and was, as I instantly
+detected, of German birth and education, a gentleman, and not a
+blackleg I had every reason to expect to see.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You have made a slight mistake," he was saying; "it is your society,
+only your society, that we want."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Astonished at his appearance, and exceedingly irritated by his words, I
+stepped back as he offered me my watch, and bluntly cried:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If it is my society only that you want, you have certainly taken very
+strange means to procure it.  A thief could have set no neater trap,
+and if it is money you want, state your sum and let me go, for my time
+is valuable and my society likely to be unpleasant."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He gave a shrug with his shoulders that in no wise interfered with his
+set smile.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You choose to be facetious," he observed.  "I have already remarked
+that we have no use for your money.  Will you sit down?  Here is some
+excellent wine, and if this brand of cigars does not suit you, I will
+send for another."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Send for the devil!" I cried, greatly exasperated.  "What do you mean
+by keeping me in this place against my will?  Open that door and let me
+out, or&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I was ready to spring and he saw it.  Smiling more atrociously than
+ever, he slipped behind the table, and before I could reach him, had
+quietly drawn a pistol, which he cocked before my eyes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You are excited," he remarked, with a suavity that nearly drove me
+mad.  "Now excitement is no aid to good company, and I am determined
+that none but good company shall be in this room to-night.  So if you
+will be kind enough to calm yourself, Mr. Atwater, you and I may yet
+enjoy ourselves, but if not&mdash;" the action he made was significant, and
+I felt the cold sweat break out on my forehead through all the heat of
+my indignation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But I did not mean to show him that he had intimidated me.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Excuse me," said I, "and put down your pistol.  Though you are making
+me lose irredeemable time, I will try and control myself enough to give
+you an opportunity for explaining yourself.  Why have you entrapped me
+into this place?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I have already told you," said he, gently laying the pistol before
+him, but within easy reach of his hand.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But that is preposterous," I began, fast losing my self-control again.
+"You do not know me, and if you did&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Pardon me, you see I know your name."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Yes, that was true, and the fact set me thinking.  How did he know my
+name?  I did not know him, nor did I know this house, or any reason for
+which I could have been beguiled into it.  Was I the victim of a
+conspiracy, or was the man mad?  Looking at him very earnestly, I
+declared:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"My name is Atwater, and so far you are right, but in learning that
+much about me you must also have learned that I am neither rich nor
+influential, nor of any special value to a blackmailer.  Why choose me
+out then for&mdash;your society?  Why not choose some one who can&mdash;talk?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I find your conversation very interesting."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Baffled, exasperated almost beyond the power to restrain myself, I
+shook my fist in his face, notwithstanding I saw his hand fly to his
+pistol.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Let me go!" I shrieked.  "Let me go out of this place.  I have
+business, I tell you, important business which means everything to me,
+and which, if I do not attend to it to-night, will be lost to me
+forever.  Let me go, and I will so far reward you that I will speak to
+no one of what has taken place here to-night, but go my ways, forgetful
+of you, forgetful of this house, forgetful of all connected with it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You are very good," was his quiet reply, "but this wine has to be
+drunk."  And he calmly poured out a glass, while I drew back in
+despair.  "You do not drink wine?" he queried, holding up the glass he
+had filled between himself and the light.  "It is a pity, for it is of
+most rare vintage.  But perhaps you smoke?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Sick and disgusted, I found a chair, and sat down in it.  If the man
+were crazy, there was certainly method in his madness.  Besides, he had
+not a crazy eye; there was calm calculation in it and not a little
+good-nature.  Did he simply want to detain me, and if so, did he have a
+motive it would pay me to fathom before I exerted myself further to
+insure my release?  Answering the wave he made me with his hand by
+reaching out for the bottle and filling myself a glass, I forced myself
+to speak more affably as I remarked:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If the wine must be drunk, we had better be about it, as you can not
+mean to detain me more than an hour, whatever reason you may have for
+wishing my society."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He looked at me inquiringly before answering, then tossing off his
+glass, he remarked:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am sorry, but in an hour a man can scarcely make the acquaintance of
+another man's exterior."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then you mean&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"To know you thoroughly, if you will be so good; I may never have the
+opportunity again."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He must be mad; nothing else but mania could account for such words and
+such actions; and yet, if mad, why was he allowed to enter my presence?
+The man who brought me here, the woman who received me at the door, had
+not been mad.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And I must stay here&mdash;&mdash;" I began.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Till I am quite satisfied.  I am afraid that will take till morning."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I gave a cry of despair, and then in my utter desperation spoke up to
+him as I would to a man of feeling:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You don't know what you are doing; you don't know what I shall suffer
+by any such cruel detention.  This night is not like other nights to
+me.  This is a special night in my life, and I need it, I need it, I
+tell you, to spend as I will.  The woman I love"&mdash;it seemed horrible to
+speak of her in this place, but I was wild at my helplessness, and
+madly hoped I might awake some answering chord in a breast which could
+not be void of all feeling or he would not have that benevolent look in
+his eye&mdash;"the woman I love," I repeated, "sails for Europe to-morrow.
+We have quarrelled, but she still cares for me, and if I can sail on
+the same steamer, we will yet make up and be happy."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"At what time does this steamer start?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"At nine in the morning."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, you shall leave this house at eight.  If you go directly to the
+steamer you will be in time."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But&mdash;but," I panted, "I have made no arrangements.  I shall have to go
+to my lodgings, write letters, get money.  I ought to be there at this
+moment.  Have you no mercy on a man who never did you wrong, and only
+asks to quit you and forget the precious hour you have made him lose?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am sorry," he said, "it is certainly quite unfortunate, but the door
+will not be opened before eight.  There is really no one in the house
+to unlock it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And do you mean to say," I cried aghast, "that you could not open that
+door if you would, that you are locked in here as well as I, and that I
+must remain here till morning, no matter how I feel or you feel?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Will you not take a cigar?" he asked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then I began to see how useless it was to struggle, and visions of Dora
+leaning on the steamer rail with that serpent whispering soft
+entreaties in her ear came rushing before me, till I could have wept in
+my jealous chagrin.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is cruel, base, devilish," I began.  "If you had the excuse of
+wanting money, and took this method of wringing my all from me, I could
+have patience, but to entrap and keep me here for nothing, when my
+whole future happiness is trembling in the balance, is the work of a
+fiend and&mdash;&mdash;"  I made a sudden pause, for a strange idea had struck me.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER III
+</H4>
+
+<P>
+What if this man, these men and this woman, were in league with him
+whose rivalry I feared, and whom I had intended to supplant on the
+morrow.  It was a wild surmise, but was it any wilder than to believe I
+was held here for a mere whim, a freak, a joke, as this bowing, smiling
+man before me would have me believe?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Rising in fresh excitement, I struck my hand on the table.  "You want
+to keep me from going on the steamer," I cried.  "That other wretch who
+loves her has paid you&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But that other wretch could not know that I was meditating any such
+unusual scheme, as following him without a full day's warning.  I
+thought of this even before I had finished my sentence, and did not
+need the blank astonishment in the face of the man before me to
+convince me that I had given utterance to a foolish accusation.  "It
+would have been some sort of a motive for your actions," I humbly
+added, as I sank back from my hostile attitude; "now you have none."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I thought he bestowed upon me a look of quiet pity, but if so he soon
+hid it with his uplifted glass.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Forget the girl," said he; "I know of a dozen just as pretty."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I was too indignant to answer.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Women are the bane of life," he now sententiously exclaimed.  "They
+are ever intruding themselves between a man and his comfort, as for
+instance just now between yourself and this good wine."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I caught up the bottle in sheer desperation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Don't talk of them," I cried, "and I will try and drink.  I almost
+wish there was poison in the glass.  My death here might bring
+punishment upon you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He shook his head, totally unmoved by my passion.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We deal punishment, not receive it.  It would not worry me in the
+least to leave you lying here upon the floor."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I did not believe this, but I did not stop to weigh the question then;
+I was too much struck by a word he had used.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Deal punishment?" I repeated.  "Are you punishing me?  Is that why I
+am here?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He laughed and held out his glass to mine.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You enjoy being sarcastic," he observed.  "Well, it gives a spice to
+conversation, I own.  Talk is apt to be dull without it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For reply I struck the glass from his hand; it fell and shivered, and
+he looked for the moment really distressed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I had rather you had struck me," he remarked, "for I have an answer
+for an injury like that; but for a broken glass&mdash;&mdash;"  He sighed and
+looked dolefully at the pieces on the floor.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mortified and somewhat ashamed, I put down my own glass.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You should not have exasperated me," I cried, and walked away beyond
+temptation, to the other side of the room.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His spirits had received a dampener, but in a few minutes he seized
+upon a cigar and began smoking; as the wreaths curled over his head he
+began to talk, and this time it was on subjects totally foreign to
+myself and even to himself.  It was good talk; that I recognized,
+though I hardly listened to what he said.  I was asking myself what
+time it had now got to be, and what was the meaning of my
+incarceration, till my brain became weary and I could scarcely
+distinguish the topic he discussed.  But he kept on for all my seeming,
+and indeed real, indifference, kept on hour after hour in a monologue
+he endeavored to make interesting, and which probably would have been
+so if the time and occasion had been fit for my enjoying it.  As it
+was, I had no ear for choicest phrases, his subtlest criticisms, or his
+most philosophic disquisitions.  I was wrapped up in self and my cruel
+disappointment, and when in a certain access of frenzy I leaped to my
+feet and took a look at the watch still lying on the table, and saw it
+was four o'clock in the morning, I gave a bound of final despair, and
+throwing myself on the floor, gave myself up to the heavy sleep that
+mercifully came to relieve me.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I was roused by feeling a touch on my breast.  Clapping my hand to the
+spot where I had felt the intruding hand, I discovered that my watch
+had been returned to my pocket.  Drawing it out I first looked at it
+and then cast my eyes quickly about the room.  There was no one with
+me, and the doors stood open between me and the hall.  It was eight
+o'clock, as my watch had just told me.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That I rushed from the house and took the shortest road to the steamer,
+goes without saying.  I could not cross the ocean with Dora, but I
+might yet see her and tell her how near I came to giving her my company
+on that long voyage which now would only serve to further the ends of
+my rival.  But when, after torturing delays on cars and ferry-boats,
+and incredible efforts to pierce a throng that was equally determined
+not to be pierced, I at last reached the wharf, it was to behold her,
+just as I had fancied in my wildest moments, leaning on a rail of the
+ship and listening, while she abstractedly waved her hand to some
+friends below, to the words of the man who had never looked so handsome
+to me or so odious as at this moment of his unconscious triumph.  Her
+father was near her, and from his eager attitude and rapidly wandering
+gaze I saw that he was watching for me.  At last he spied me struggling
+aboard, and immediately his face lighted up in a way which made me wish
+he had not thought it necessary to wait for my anticipated meeting with
+his daughter.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah, Dick, you are late," he began, effusively, as I put foot on deck.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But I waved him back and went at once to Dora.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Forgive me, pardon me," I incoherently said, as her sweet eyes rose in
+startled pleasure to mine.  "I would have brought you flowers, but I
+meant to sail with you, Dora, I tried to&mdash;but wretches, villains,
+prevented it and&mdash;and&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, it does not matter," she said, and then blushed, probably because
+the words sounded unkind, "I mean&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But she could not say what she meant, for just then the bell rang for
+all visitors to leave, and her father came forward, evidently thinking
+all was right between us, smiled benignantly in her face, gave her a
+kiss and me a wink and disappeared in the crowd that was now rapidly
+going ashore.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I felt that I must follow, but I gave her one look and one squeeze of
+the hand, and then as I saw her glances wander to his face, I groaned
+in spirit, stammered some words of choking sorrow and was gone, before
+her embarrassment would let her speak words, which I knew would only
+add to my grief and make this hasty parting unendurable.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The look of amazement and chagrin with which her father met my
+reappearance on the dock can easily be imagined.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why, Dick," he exclaimed, "aren't you going after all?  I thought I
+could rely on you.  Where's your plucky lad?  Scared off by a frown?  I
+wouldn't have believed it, Dick.  What if she does frown to-day; she
+will smile to-morrow."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I shook my head; I could not tell him just then that it was not through
+any lack of pluck on my part that I had failed him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When I left the dock I went straight to a restaurant, for I was faint
+as well as miserable.  But my cup of coffee choked me and the rolls and
+eggs were more than I could face.  Rising impatiently, I went out.  Was
+any one more wretched than I that morning and could any one nourish a
+more bitter grievance?  As I strode towards my lodgings I chewed the
+cud of my disappointment till my wrongs loomed up like mountains and I
+was seized by a spirit of revenge.  Should I let such an interference
+as I had received go unpunished?  No, if the wretch who had detained me
+was not used to punishment he should receive a specimen of it now and
+from a man who was no longer a prisoner, and who once aroused did not
+easily forego his purposes.  Turning aside from my former destination,
+I went immediately to a police-station and when I had entered my
+complaint was astonished to see that all the officials had grouped
+about me and were listening to my words with the most startled interest.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Was the man who came for you a German?" one asked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I said "Yes."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And the man who stood guardian over you and entertained you with wine
+and cigars, was not he a German too?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I nodded acquiescence and they at once began to whisper together; then
+one of them advanced to me and said:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You have not been home, I understand; you had better come."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Astonished by his manner I endeavored to inquire what he meant, but he
+drew me away, and not till we were within a stone's throw of my office
+did he say, "You must prepare yourself for a shock.  The impertinences
+you suffered from last night were unpleasant no doubt, but if you had
+been allowed to return home, you might not now be deploring them in
+comparative peace and safety."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What do you mean?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That your partner was not as fortunate as yourself.  Look up at the
+house; what do you see there?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A crowd was what I saw first, but he made me look higher, and then I
+perceived that the windows of my room, of our room, were shattered and
+blackened and that part of the casement of one had been blown out.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A fire!" I shrieked.  "Poor Richter was smoking&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, he was not smoking.  He had no time for a smoke.  An infernal
+machine burst in that room last night and your friend was its wretched
+victim."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I never knew why my friend's life was made a sacrifice to the revenge
+of his fellow-countrymen.  Though we had been intimate in the year we
+had been together, he had never talked to me of his country and I had
+never seen him in company with one of his own nation.  But that he was
+the victim of some political revenge was apparent, for though it proved
+impossible to find the man who had detained me, the house was found and
+ransacked, and amongst other secret things was discovered the model of
+the machine which had been introduced into our room, and which had
+proved so fatal to the man it was addressed to.  Why men who were so
+relentless in their purposes towards him should have taken such pains
+to keep me from sharing his fate, is one of those anomalies in human
+nature which now and then awake our astonishment.  If I had not lost
+Dora through my detention at their hands I should look back upon that
+evening with sensations of thankfulness.  As it is, I sometimes
+question if it would not have been better if they had let me take my
+chances.
+</P>
+
+<HR ALIGN="center" WIDTH="60%">
+
+<P>
+Have I lost Dora?  From a letter I received to-day I begin to think not.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap17"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE MAN FROM RED DOG
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By ALFRED HENRY LEWIS
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+Copyright 1897 by Frederick A. Stokes Company.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"Let me try one of them thar seegyars."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It was the pleasant after-dinner hour, and I was on the veranda for a
+quiet smoke.  The Old Cattleman had just thrown down his paper; the
+half-light of the waning sun was a bit too dim for his eyes of seventy
+years.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Whenever I behold a seegyar," said the old fellow, as he puffed
+voluminously at the principe I passed over, "I thinks of what that
+witness says in the murder trial at Socorro.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'What was you-all doin' in camp yourse'f,' asked the jedge of this
+yere witness, 'the day of the killin'?'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Which,' says the witness, oncrossin' his laigs an' lettin' on he
+ain't made bashful an' oneasy by so much attentions bein' shown him,
+'which I was a-eatin' of a few sardines, a-drinkin' of a few drinks of
+whiskey, a-smokin' of a few seegyars, an' a-romancin' 'round.'"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After this abrupt, not to say ambiguous reminiscence, the Old Cattleman
+puffed contentedly a moment.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What murder trial was this you speak of?" I asked.  "Who had been
+killed?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Now I don't reckon I ever does know who it is gets downed," he
+replied.  "This yere murder trial itse'f is news to me complete.  They
+was waggin' along with it when I trails into Socorro that time, an' I
+merely sa'nters over to the co't that a-way to hear what's goin' on.
+The jedge is sorter gettin' in on the play while I'm listenin'.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'What was the last words of this yere gent who's killed?' asked the
+jedge of this witness.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'As nearly as I keeps tabs, jedge,' says the witness, 'the dyin'
+statement of this person is: "Four aces to beat."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Which if deceased had knowed Socorro like I does,' says the jedge,
+like he's commentin' to himse'f, 'he'd shorely realized that sech
+remarks is simply sooicidal.'"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Again the Old Cattleman relapsed into silence and the smoke of the
+principe.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How did the trial come out?" I queried.  "Was the accused found
+guilty?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Which the trial itse'f," he replied, "don't come out.  Thar's a passel
+of the boys who's come into town to see that jestice is done, an' bein'
+the round-up is goin' for'ard at the time, they nacherally feels
+hurried an' pressed for leesure.  They-alls oughter be back on the
+range with their cattle.  So the fifth day, when things is loiterin'
+along at the trial till it looks like the law has hobbles on, an' the
+word goes round it's goin' to be a week yet before the jury gets action
+on this miscreant who's bein' tried, the boys becomes plumb aggravated
+an' wearied out that a-way; an', kickin' in the door of the calaboose,
+they searches out the felon, swings him to a cottonwood not otherwise
+engaged, an' the right prevails.  Nacherally the trial bogs down right
+thar."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After another season of silence and smoke, the Old Cattleman struck in
+again.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Speakin' of killin's, while I'm the last gent to go fosterin' idees of
+bloodshed, I'm some discouraged jest now by what I've been readin' in
+that paper about a dooel between some Eytalians, an' it shorely tries
+me the way them aliens plays boss.  It's obvious as stars on a cl'ar
+night, they never means fight a little bit.  I abhors dooels, an'
+cowers from the mere idee.  But, after all, business is business, an'
+when folks fights 'em the objects of the meetin' oughter be blood.  But
+the way these yere European shorthorns fixes it, a gent shorely runs a
+heap more resk of becomin' a angel abrupt, attendin' of a Texas
+cake-walk in a purely social way.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Do they ever fight dooels in the West?  Why, yes&mdash;some.  My mem'ry
+comes a-canterin' up right now with the details of an encounter I once
+beholds in Wolfville.  Thar ain't no time much throwed away with a
+dooel in the Southwest.  The people's mighty extemporaneous, an' don't
+go browsin' 'round none sendin' challenges in writin', an' that sort of
+flapdoodle.  When a gent notices the signs a-gettin' about right for
+him to go on the war-path, he picks out his meat, surges up, an'
+declares himse'f.  The victim, who is most likely a mighty serious an'
+experienced person, don't copper the play by makin' vain remarks, but
+brings his gatlin' into play surprisin'.  Next it's bang! bang! bang!
+mixed up with flashes an' white smoke, an' the dooel is over complete.
+The gent who still adorns our midst takes a drink on the house, while
+St. Peter onbars things a lot an' arranges gate an' seat checks with
+the other in the realms of light.  That's all thar is to it.  The tide
+of life ag'in flows onward to the eternal sea, an' nary ripple.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, this yere Wolfville dooel!  Well, it's this a-way.  The day is
+blazin' hot, an' business layin' prone an' dead&mdash;jest blistered to
+death.  A passel of us is sorter pervadin' round the dance-hall, it
+bein' the biggest an' coolest store in camp.  A monte game is
+strugglin' for breath in a feeble, fitful way in a corner, an' some of
+us is a-watch'in'; an' some a-settin' 'round loose a-thinkin'; but all
+keepin mum an' still, 'cause it's so hot.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Jest then some gent on a hoss goes whoopin' up the street a-yellin'
+an' a-whirlin' the loop of his rope, an' allowin' generally he's havin'
+a mighty good time.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Who's this yere toomultuous man on the hoss?' says Enright,
+a-regardin' of him in a displeased way from the door.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'I meets him up the street a minute back,' says Dan Boggs, 'an' he
+allows he's called "The Man from Red Dog."  He says he's took a day off
+to visit us, an' aims to lay waste the camp some before he goes back.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"About then the Red Dog man notes old Santa Rosa, who keeps the Mexican
+<I>baile</I> hall, an' his old woman, Marie, a-fussin' with each other in
+front of the New York Store.  They's locked horns over a drink or
+something an' is powwowin' mighty onamiable.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Whatever does this yere Mexican fam'ly mean,' says the Red Dog man,
+a-surveyin' of 'em plenty scornful, 'a-draggin' of their domestic
+brawls out yere to offend a sufferin' public for?  Whyever don't they
+stay in their wickeyup an' fight, an' not take to puttin' it all over
+the American race which ain't in the play' none an' don't thirst
+tharfor?  However, I unites an' reeconciles this divided household
+easy.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"With this the Red Dog man drops the loop of his lariat round the two
+contestants an' jumps his bronco up the street like it's come outen a
+gun.  Of course Santa Rosa an' Marie goes along on their heads
+permiscus.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"They goes coastin' along ontil they gets pulled into a mesquite-bush,
+an' the rope slips offen the saddle, an' thar they be.  We-alls goes
+over from the dance-hall, extricatin' of 'em, an' final they rounds up
+mighty hapless an' weak, an' can only walk.  They shorely lose enough
+hide to make a pair of leggin's.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Which I brings 'em together like twins,' says the Red Dog man, ridin'
+back for his rope.  'I offers two to one, no limit, they don't fight
+none whatever for a month.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Which, as it shorely looks like he's right, no one takes him.  So the
+Red Dog man leaves his bluff a-hangin' an' goes into the dance-hall,
+a-givin' of it out cold an' clammy he meditates libatin'.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'All promenade to the bar,' yells the Red Dog man as he goes in.  'I'm
+a wolf, an' it's my night to howl.  Don't 'rouse me, barkeep, with the
+sight of merely one bottle; set 'em all up.  I'm some fastidious about
+my fire-water an' likes a chance to select.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, we-alls takes our inspiration, an' the Red Dog man tucks his
+onder his belt an' then turns round to Enright.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'I takes it you're the old he-coon of this yere outfit?' says the Red
+Dog man, soopercilious-like.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Which, if I ain't,' says Enright, 'it's plenty safe as a play to let
+your wisdom flow this a-way till the he-coon gets yere.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'If thar's anythin',' says the Red Dog man, 'I turns from sick, it's
+voylence an' deevastation.  But I hears sech complaints constant of
+this yere camp of Wolfville, I takes my first idle day to ride over an'
+line things up.  Now yere I be, an' while I regrets it, I finds
+you-alls is a lawless, onregenerate set, a heap sight worse than
+roomer.  I now takes the notion&mdash;for I sees no other trail&mdash;that by
+next drink time I climbs into the saddle, throws my rope 'round this
+den of sin, an' removes it from the map.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Nacherally,' says Enright, some sarcastic, 'in makin' them schemes
+you ain't lookin' for no trouble whatever with a band of tarrapins like
+us.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'None whatever,' says the Red Dog man, mighty confident.  'In thirty
+minutes I distributes this yere hamlet 'round in the landscape same as
+them Greasers; which feat becomin' hist'ry, I then canters back to Red
+Dog.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Well,' says Enright, 'it's plenty p'lite to let us know what's comin'
+this a-way.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Oh!  I ain't tellin' you none,' says the Red Dog man, 'I simply lets
+fly this hint, so any of you-alls as has got bric-a-brac he values
+speshul, he takes warnin' some an' packs it off all safe.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's about then when Cherokee Hall, who's lookin' on, shoulders in
+between Enright an' the Red Dog man, mighty positive.  Cherokee is a
+heap sot in his idees, an' I sees right off he's took a notion ag'in
+the Red Dog man.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'As you've got a lot of work cut out,' says Cherokee, eyein' the Red
+Dog man malignant, 's'pose we tips the canteen ag'in.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'I shorely goes you,' says the Red Dog man.  'I drinks with friend,
+an' I drinks with foe; with the pard of my bosom an' the shudderin'
+victim of my wrath all sim'lar.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Cherokee turns out a big drink an' stands a-holdin' of it in his hand.
+I wants to say right yere, this Cherokee's plenty guileful.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'You was namin',' says Cherokee, 'some public improvements you aims to
+make; sech as movin' this yere camp 'round some, I believes?'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'That's whatever,' says the Red Dog man, 'an' the holycaust I
+'nitiates is due to start in fifteen minutes.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'I've been figgerin' on you,' says Cherokee, 'an' I gives you the
+result in strict confidence without holdin' out a kyard.  When you-all
+talks of tearin' up Wolfville, you're a liar an' a hoss-thief, an' you
+ain't goin' to tear up nothin'.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'What's this I hears!' yells the frenzied Red Dog man, reachin' for
+his gun.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But he never gets it, for the same second Cherokee spills the glass of
+whiskey straight in his eyes, an' the next he's anguished an' blind as
+a mole.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'I'll fool this yere human simoon up a lot,' says Cherokee, a-hurlin'
+of the Red Dog man to the floor, face down, while his nine-inch bowie
+shines in his hand like the sting of a wasp.  'I shore fixes him so he
+can't get a job clerkin' in a store,' an' grabbin' the Red Dog man's
+ha'r, which is long as the mane of a pony, he slashes it off close in
+one motion.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Thar's a fringe for your leggin's, Nell,' remarks Cherokee, a-turnin'
+of the crop over to Faro Nell.  'Now, Doc,' Cherokee goes on to Doc
+Peets, 'take this yere Red Dog stranger over to the Red Light, fix his
+eyes all right, an' then tell him, if he thinks he needs blood in this,
+to take his Winchester an' go north in the middle of the street.  In
+twenty minutes by the watch I steps outen the dance-hall door a-lookin'
+for him.  P'int him to the door all fair an' squar'.  I don't aim to
+play nothin' low on this yere gent.  He gets a chance for his ante.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Doc Peets sorter accoomilates the Red Dog man, who is cussin' an'
+carryin' on scandalous, an' leads him over to the Red Light.  In a
+minute word comes to Cherokee as his eyes is roundin' up all proper,
+an' that he's makin' war-medicine an' is growin' more hostile constant,
+an' to heel himse'f.  At that Cherokee, mighty ca'm, sends out for Jack
+Moore's Winchester, which is an 'eight-squar',' latest model.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Oh, Cherokee!' says Faro Nell, beginnin' to cry, an' curlin' her arms
+'round his neck.  'I'm 'fraid he's goin' to down you.  Ain't thar no
+way to fix it?  Can't Dan yere settle with this Red Dog man?'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Cert,' says Dan Boggs, 'an' I makes the trip too gleeful.  Jest to
+spar' Nell's feelin's, Cherokee, an' not to interfere with no gent's
+little game, I takes your hand an' plays it.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Not none,' says Cherokee; 'this is my deal.  Don't cry, Nellie,' he
+adds, smoothin' down her yaller ha'r.  'Folks in my business has to
+hold themse'fs ready to face any game on the word, an' they never
+weakens or lays down.  An' another thing, little girl; I gets this Red
+Dog sharp shore.  I'm in the middle of a run of luck; I holds fours
+twice last night, with a flush an' a full hand out ag'in 'em.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Nell at last lets go of Cherokee's neck, an', bein' a female an' timid
+that a-way, allows she'll go, an' won't stop to see the shootin' none.
+We applauds the idee, thinkin' she might shake Cherokee some if she
+stays; an' of course a gent out shootin' for his life needs his nerve.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, the twenty minutes is up; the Red Dog man gets his rifle offen
+his saddle an' goes down the middle of the street.  Turnin' up his big
+sombrero, he squares 'round, cocks his gun, an' waits.  Then Enright
+goes out with Cherokee an' stands him in the street about a hundred
+yards from the Red Dog man.  After Cherokee's placed he holds up his
+hand for attention an' says:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'When all is ready I stands to one side an' drops my hat.  You-alls
+fires at will.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Enright goes over to the side of the street, counts 'one,' 'two,'
+'three,' an' drops his hat.  Bangety! Bang!  Bang! goes the rifles like
+the roll of a drum.  Cherokee can work a Winchester like one of these
+yere Yankee 'larm-clocks, an' that Red Dog hold-up don't seem none
+behind.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"About the fifth fire the Red Dog man sorter steps for'ard an' drops
+his gun; an' after standin' onsteady for a second, he starts to
+cripplin' down at his knees.  At last he comes ahead on his face like a
+landslide.  Thar's two bullets plum through his lungs, an' when we gets
+to him the red froth is comin' outen his mouth some plenteous.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We packs him back into the Red Light an' lays him onto a monte-table.
+Bimeby he comes to a little an' Peets asks him whatever he thinks he
+wants.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'I wants you-alls to take off my moccasins an' pack me into the
+street,' says the Red Dog man.  'I ain't allowin' for my old mother in
+Missoury to be told as how I dies in no gin-mill, which she shorely
+'bominates of 'em.  An' I don't die with no boots on, neither.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We-alls packs him back into the street ag'in, an' pulls away at his
+boots.  About the time we gets 'em off he sags back convulsive, an'
+thar he is as dead as Santa Anna.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'What sort of a game is this, anyhow?' says Dan Boggs, who, while we
+stands thar, has been pawin' over the Red Dog man's rifle.  'Looks like
+this vivacious party's plumb locoed.  Yere's his hind-sights wedged up
+for a thousand yards, an' he's been a-shootin' of cartridges with a
+hundred an' twenty grains of powder into 'em.  Between the sights an'
+the jump of the powder, he's shootin' plumb over Cherokee an' aimin'
+straight at him.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Nellie,' says Enright, lookin' remorseful at the girl, who colors up
+an' begins to cry agin, 'did you cold-deck this yere Red Dog sport this
+a-way?'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'I'm 'frald,' sobs Nell, 'he gets Cherokee; so I slides over when
+you-alls is waitin' an' fixes his gun some.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Which I should shorely concede you did,' says Enright.  'The way that
+Red Dog gent manipulates his weepon shows he knows his game; an' except
+for you a-settin' things up on him, I'm powerful afraid he'd spoiled
+Cherokee a whole lot.'
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"'Well, gents,' goes on Enright, after thinkin' a while, 'I reckons
+we-alls might as well drink on it.  Hist'ry never shows a game yet, an'
+a woman in it, which is on the squar', an' we meekly b'ars our burdens
+with the rest.'"
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap18"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+JEAN MICHAUD'S LITTLE SHIP
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+Reprinted, by permission of the author, from "The Saturday Evening
+Post."  All rights reserved.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+Patiently, doggedly, yet with the light in his eyes that belongs to the
+enthusiast and the dreamer, young Jean Michaud had worked at it.
+Throughout the winter he had hewed the seasoned timbers and the
+diminutive hackmatack "knees" from the swamp far back in the Equille
+Valley; and whenever the sledding was good with his yoke of black oxen
+he had hauled his materials to the secret place of his shipbuilding by
+the winding shore of a deep tidal tributary of the Port Royal.  In the
+spring he had laid the keel and riveted securely to it the squared
+hackmatack knees.  It was unusual to use such sturdy and unmanageable
+timbers as these hackmatack knees for a craft so small as this which
+the young Acadian was building; but Jean Michaud's thoughts were long
+thoughts and went far ahead.  He was putting all his hopes as well as
+all his scant patrimony into this little ship; and he was resolved that
+it should be strong to carry his fortunes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Through all the green and blue and golden Acadian summer he had toiled
+joyously at bending the thin planks and riveting them soundly to the
+ribs, the stem and the sternpost.  It was hot work, but white and
+savory, the clean spruce planks that he wrought with breathing sweet
+scents to his lungs as adze and chisel and saw set free the tonic
+spirit of their fibres.  His chips soon spread a yellow carpet over the
+mossy sward and the tree-roots.  The yellow sides of his graceful craft
+presently arose high among the green kissing branches of the water-ash
+and Indian pear.  The tawny golden shimmering current of the creek
+lipped up at high tide close under the stern of the little ship and set
+afloat the lowest layers of the chips; while at ebb a gleaming abyss of
+red mud with walls sloping sharply to a mere rivulet at their foot
+seemed to tempt the structure to a premature launching and a wild
+swooping rush to oozy doom.  Very secluded, far apart from beaten
+highway or forest byway, and quite aside from all the river traffic,
+was the place of Jean Michaud's shipbuilding.  And so it came about
+that the clear ringing blows of his adze, the sharp staccato of his
+diligent hammer and the strident crying of his saw brought no answer
+but the chatter of the striped chipmunks among the near tree-roots, or
+the scolding of the garrulous and inquisitive red squirrels from the
+branches overhead.  At the quiet of the noon hour, while Jean lay in
+the shade contemplating his handiwork, and weaving his many-colored
+dreams, and munching his brown-bread cakes and pale cheese, the
+clucking partridge hen would lead her brood out to investigate the
+edges of the chip-strewn open, where insects gathered in the heat.  And
+afterward, when once more Jean's hammering set up its brisk and
+cheerful echoes, the big golden-wing woodpeckers would promptly accept
+the sound as a challenge, and begin an emulous rat-tat-tat-tat-ting on
+the resonant sound-board of a dead beech not far off.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+By the time the partridge brood had taken to whirring up into the maple
+branches when alarmed, instead of scurrying to cover in the underbrush,
+the hull was completed; and a smell of smoking pitch drowned the woodsy
+odors as Jean calked the seams.  Then the pale yellow of the timbers no
+more shone through the reddening leafage, but a sombre black bulk
+loomed impressively above the chips, daunting the squirrels for a few
+days with its strange shadow.  By the time of the moose-calling, when
+the rowan-berries hung in great scarlet bunches and half the red
+leafage was turning brown, and the pale gold birch leaves fell in
+fluttering showers at every gust, two slim masts had raised their tops
+above the trees, and a white bowsprit was thrusting its nose into the
+branches of the nearest red maple.  Under the bowsprit glittered a
+carved and gilded Madonna, the most auspicious figurehead to which, in
+Jean's eyes, he could intrust the fortunes of his handiwork.  A few
+days more and the ship was done&mdash;so nearly complete that three or four
+hours of work would make her ready for sea.  Being so small, it was
+feasible to launch her in this advanced state of equipment; and the
+conditions under which she had been built made it necessary that she
+should be prepared to hurry straight from the greased ways of the
+launching to the security of the open sea.  The tidal creek in which
+she would first take water could give her no safe harborage; and once
+out of the creek she would have to make all speed, under cover of
+night, till Port Royal River and the sodded ramparts of Annapolis town
+should be left many miles astern.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Having made his preparations and gathered his materials far ahead, and
+devised his precautions with subtlety, and accustomed his neighbors to
+the idea that he was an erratic youth, given to long absences and
+futile schemes, not worth gossip, Jean had succeeded in keeping his
+enterprise a secret from all but two persons.  These two, deep in his
+counsel's from the first, were Barbe Dieudonné, his sweetheart, and
+Mich' Masson, his friend and ally.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mich' Masson&mdash;whose home, which served him best as a place to stay away
+from, was in the village of Grand Pré, far up on the Basin of
+Minas&mdash;had been Jean's close friend since early boyhood, in the days
+before Port Royal town had been captured by the English and found its
+name changed to Annapolis.  He was a daring adventurer, hunter,
+woods-ranger, an implacable partisan of the French cause, and just now
+deeply interested in the traffic between Acadie and the new French
+fortress city of Louisburg&mdash;a traffic which the English Governor was
+angrily determined to break up.  Mich' Masson could sail a ship as well
+as set a dead-fall or lay an ambush.  He had kept bright in Jean's
+heart the flame of hatred against the English conquerors of Acadie.  It
+was he who had come to the aid of Jean's shipbuilding from time to
+time, when timbers had to be put in place which were too heavy for one
+pair of hands to work with.  It was, indeed, at his suggestion that
+Jean had finally decided to sell his cottage on the outskirts of
+Annapolis town, his scrap of upland with its apple trees in full
+bearing, his strip of rich dike-land with its apple trees in full
+bearing, his strip of rich dike-forbidden traffic&mdash;and to settle under
+the walls of Louisburg, where the flag he loved should always wave over
+his roof-tree.  It was Mich' Masson who had shown Jean how by this
+course he could quickly grow rich, and make a home for Barbe which that
+somewhat disconcerting and incomprehensible maiden would not scorn to
+accept.  Mich' Masson loved his own honor.  He loved Jean.  He hated
+the English.  Jean's secret was safe with him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mademoiselle Barbe, under a disguise of indifference which sometimes
+reduced Jean to the not unprofitable condition wherein hard work is the
+sole refuge from despair, hid a passionate interest in her lover's
+undertaking.  She, too, hated the new domination.  She, too, chafed to
+escape from Annapolis and take up life anew under her old Flag of the
+Fleur-de-lis.  Moreover, her restless and fiery spirit could accept no
+contented tiller of green Acadian acres for a mate; and she was
+resolved that Jean's courageous heart and stirring dreams should
+translate themselves into action.  She would have him not only the
+daring dreamer but the daring doer&mdash;the successful smuggler, the shrewd
+foiler of the English watch-dogs, the admired and consulted partisan
+leader.  That he had it in him to be all these things she felt utterly
+convinced; but she proposed that the debilitating effects of too much
+happiness should have no chance of postponing his success.  Her keen
+watchfulness detected every weak spot in Jean's enterprise, every
+unguarded point in his secret; and her two-edged mockery, which seemed
+as careless and inconsequent as the wind, at once accomplished the
+effects she had in view.  Her fickleness of mood, her bewildering
+caprice, were the iridescent foam-bubbles veiling a deep and steady
+current.  She knew that she loved Jean's love for her, of which she
+felt as certain as dawn does of the sunrise.  She had a suspicion in
+the deep of her heart that she might be in love with Jean himself; but
+of this she was in no haste to be assured.  She was loyal in every
+fibre.  And Jean's secret was safe with her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thus the wonder came to pass that Jean's secret, though known to three
+people, yet remained so long a secret.  Had the English Governor,
+behind his sodded ramparts overlooking the tide, got wind of it, never
+would Jean Michaud's little ship have sailed the open, save with an
+English captain and an English crew.  It would have been confiscated,
+on the not unreasonable presumption that it was intended for the
+forbidden trade.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Early in the afternoon, on a day of mid-October, Jean stepped down the
+ladder which leaned against the starboard bow of his ship, and
+contemplated with satisfaction the name, "Mon Rêve," which he had just
+painted in strong, gold lettering.  The exultation in his eyes became a
+passion of love and worship, as he turned to the slim girl who lay
+curled up luxuriously on a sweet-smelling pile of dried ferns and
+marsh-grass, watching him.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Since you won't let me name her directly after you, that is the
+nearest I can come to it, Barbe," he said.  "You can't find fault with
+that.  You are my dream&mdash;and all else besides."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For a moment she watched him in silence.  Her figure was of a childish
+slenderness, and there was a childish abandon in her attitude.  The
+small hands crossed idly in her lap were very dark and thin and
+long-fingered, with rosy nails.  She was dressed in skirt and bodice of
+the creamy Acadian homespun linen, the skirt reaching not quite to her
+slim ankles.  Her mouth was full and red, half sorrowful, half mocking.
+Her face, small and rather thin, was tanned to a clear, dark brown, and
+of a type that suggested a strain of the ancient blood of the Basques.
+The thick black masses of her hair, with a rebel wave in them, and here
+and there a glint of flame, half covered her little ears and were
+gathered into a knot at the back of her neck.  The brim of her
+low-crowned hat of quilted linen was tilted far down to shade her face;
+and her eyes, very green and clear and large, made a bewildering
+brilliance in the shadow.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The light in her eyes softened presently, and she said in a low voice:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Poor boy, a very sharp reality you find me most of the time, I'm
+afraid."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For this unexpected utterance Jean had no words of answer ready, but
+his look was a sufficiently eloquent refutation.  He took a few eager
+steps toward her; then, reading inhibition in the sudden gravity of her
+mouth, he checked himself.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Day after to-morrow, about sundown," said he, "our Lady and St. Joseph
+permitting, we will get her launched.  The tide will be full then, and
+we will run down with it, and pass the fort before moonrise.  If the
+wind's fair we will get out of the Basin and off to sea that same
+night; but if it fails us there'll be tide enough to get us round the
+Island and into a hidden anchorage in Hibert River.  Then&mdash;a cargo of
+Acadian beef and barley for Louisburg!  And then&mdash;money!  And then&mdash;and
+then&mdash;you!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He looked at her with pleading and longing in his eyes, but with a
+doggedness about his mouth which told of much pain endured and a
+determination which might bide its time, indeed, but would not be
+balked.  The look of the mouth she was conscious of, deep down in her
+heart, and she in reality rested upon it; but it was the look in his
+eyes which she answered.  She answered it lightly.  A mocking smile
+played about the corners of her lips and her eyes sparkled upon him
+whimsically.  The look both repulsed and invited him; and he hung for
+some moments, as it were, trembling midway between the promise and the
+denial.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Don't be too sure of&mdash;me!" she said at last.  And his face fell&mdash;not
+so much at the words themselves as at their discouraging accent.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But," he protested, "it is all planned, all done, just for you, Barbe.
+There is nothing in it at all, except you.  It is all you.  That is
+understood between us from the first, and all the time."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Still her mouth mocked him; and still her eyes gleamed upon him with
+their enigmatic light.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You will have your beautiful little ship," she said slowly.  "You will
+have wonderful adventures&mdash;and little time to think of me at all.  You
+will make a wonderful deal of money.  You will make your name famous
+and hated among these English.  I am expecting you to do great things.
+But as for me&mdash;I am not won yet, Jean."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His eyes glowed upon her, and the lines of his face set themselves with
+a sudden masterfulness.  He gave a little, soft laugh.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You are mine!  You will be my wife before I make my second voyage."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If you believe that, you ought to be a very happy man," she retorted,
+and her smile softened almost imperceptibly as she said it.  "You don't
+look quite as happy as you ought to, Jean!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"<I>Don't</I> make me wait for my second voyage!  Let me take you away from
+this unhappy country.  Come with me&mdash;come with me now!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He spoke swiftly, his voice thick with the sudden outburst of passion
+long held in check; and he strode forward to catch her in his arms.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Instantaneous as a darting bird, or a flash of light on a wave, she was
+up from her resting-place and away behind the pile of grass and ferns.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Stay there!" she commanded, "or I'll go home at once!"  And Jean
+stayed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She laughed at him gayly, mercilessly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Would you have me take you on trust, Jean?" she questioned, with her
+head on one side.  "How do I know that you are going to be brave enough
+to fight the English, or clever enough to outwit them?  How do I know
+you will really do the great things I'm expecting of you?  I know your
+dreams are fine, Boy; but you must show me deeds."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I will," he answered quietly.  "Come here, Sweet, just for one minute!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No," she said with a very positive shake of her small head.  "You must
+go on with your work.  You have more to do yet than you realize.  And
+<I>I've</I> something to do, too.  I must go home at once."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"That's not fair, Barbe!" he pleaded.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I don't care!  It is good for you.  No, don't come one step with me.
+Not one step.  Go on with your work.  I'm going to fly."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She ran lightly across the chips, at a safe distance from Jean's
+outstretched arms, and turned into the trail among the maples.  There
+she paused, gave her lover one melting, caressing, but still
+half-mocking glance, and cried to him:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am making a flag for 'Mon Rêve,' and it's not <I>nearly</I> done yet,
+Jean."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then she disappeared among the bright branches.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+With a tumult in his heart Jean turned back to his ladder and
+paint-pot.  Little twinges of angry disappointment ran along his
+nerves, only to be smothered straightway in a flood of passionate
+tenderness.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Next voyage, anyway!" he muttered to himself as he worked feverishly.
+"I couldn't <I>live</I> longer than that without her!"  And he went over and
+over in his imagination every detail of the girl's appearance, the
+changing moods of her radiant dark face, her hair, her hands, the tones
+of her voice.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Along the trail through the autumn maples, meanwhile Mademoiselle Barbe
+was speeding on light feet.  The little smile was gone from the corners
+of her mouth, and into her eyes, now that Jean could no longer see
+them, was come a great gentleness.  Her mockery, her impatience, her
+picturesque asperity were a kind of game which she played with herself,
+to disguise, sometimes even from herself, the greatness and the
+oversensitiveness of her heart.  At this moment she was feeling sore at
+the nearness of Jean's departure, and was conscious of the pressure of
+his will urging her to go with him.  This she was resolved she would
+not do; but she was equally resolved that her flag should be ready and
+go in her place.  As for the next voyage&mdash;well, she thought to herself
+that Jean might persuade her by that time, if he tried hard.  As to his
+success she had not really a grain of doubt.  She knew well enough the
+quality of his fibre.  Her light feet, as she hurried, made hardly a
+sound upon the soft mould of the trail, which was half-hidden by the
+bright autumn carpeting of the leaves.  But presently she heard the
+noise of heavier footfalls approaching.  Just ahead of her the trail
+turned sharply.  Peering through the tangle of branches and thinned
+leafage, she caught glimpses of something that caused her face to grow
+pale, her heart to throb up into her throat; and she stepped behind the
+thick shelter of a fir bush to consider what was to be done.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The sight that so disturbed her was in itself no terrible one.  A tall,
+ruddy-faced, keen-eyed man, carelessly dressed, but of erect, military
+bearing, came striding up the trail, a gun over his arm, a brown dog at
+his heels.  Barbe recognized him at once&mdash;the English officer in
+command of the fort at Annapolis.  She saw that he was out for
+partridges&mdash;but she saw, also, that he was walking at a pace that would
+speedily devour the scant two miles that divided him from the shipyard
+of "Mon Rêve."  It was evident that he had forgotten his shooting in
+his interest in this unknown trail upon which he had stumbled.  If he
+went on the game was up for Jean's little ship!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She resolved that he should not go on.  It took her just five seconds
+to decide the whole question.  There was a large fallen tree close
+beside the trail, two or three paces from where she hid.  Over this she
+threw herself discreetly, with a little choking scream, and lay moaning
+among the leaves beside it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Englishman darted forward and was at her side in a moment, bending
+over her with a mingling of alarm and admiration in his gray eyes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mademoiselle," he cried, "what has happened?  Are you much hurt?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Receiving no answer, but more faint moans, he lifted her gently and
+stood her on her feet; but the instant he released her she collapsed
+upon the leaves, an appealing but intoxicating confusion of skirts, and
+slim brown hands, and crinkly dark hair, and the corner of a red mouth,
+and the glimpse of an ankle.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mademoiselle!  Tell me what is the matter.  Tell me what can I do.
+Let me do something, I beg of you!"  Lifting her again, he seated her
+beside him on the fallen tree; and this time he did not at once release
+her.  At first, her eyes closed and her face a little drawn as with
+pain, she clung instinctively to his arm, with hands that seemed to him
+the most maddening that he had ever seen.  Then, after several minutes
+which were very agreeable to him in spite of his anxiety, she appeared
+to pull herself together with a mighty effort.  She moved away from his
+clasp, sat up straight, and opened upon him great eyes of pain and
+gratitude.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, thank you Monsieur!" she said simply.  "I'm afraid I have been
+very troublesome.  But, indeed, I thought I was going to die."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But what is the matter, Mademoiselle?  Tell me, and let me help you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She sat cringing and setting her teeth hard.  He noticed how white were
+the teeth, how scarlet the full lips.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It is just my heart," she said.  "I was looking through the bushes to
+see who was coming.  Something startled me, I think; and the pain
+clutched at my heart so I could not breathe, and I fell off."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She paused, to moan a little softly and catch her breath.  Before he
+could say anything she went on:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's better now, but it hurts horribly."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Let me support you, Mademoiselle," he urged with eager courtesy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But she shrank away from the approaching ministration.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, Monsieur, I am better, really.  But I must get home as quick as I
+can."  She rose unsteadily.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Englishman arose at the same time.  The next moment Barbe sank back
+again, biting her lips to keep back a cry.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh," she gasped, "I can't stand it!  How can I get home?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You must let me see you home, Mademoiselle," said the officer,
+authority blending with palpable enthusiasm in his tones.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You are so good, Monsieur," she murmured gratefully.  "But I could not
+think of taking you away back so far, almost to the village.  It will
+spoil your afternoon's sport."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The sympathy of the Englishman's face gave way to amusement, and he
+hastened to assure her of her mistake.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Not at all, indeed, Mademoiselle.  It will be quite as much my
+pleasure as my duty to see you safely home.  Your misfortune&mdash;if not
+too serious&mdash;is my great good fortune!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Thanking him with a look, Barbe arose weakly and took the proffered
+arm.  At first the homeward journey was very slow; but as the afternoon
+deepened, and the miles gathered between the English commandant and
+Jean's little ship, the girl began to let herself recover.  By this
+time she felt that there was no danger of her escort leaving her one
+minute before he was obliged to; and she knew that now, for this night,
+the ship was safe.  At last, as they emerged from the woods into a high
+pasture-ground, behind the cottage where Barbe lived with her aunt and
+uncle, the Englishman threw off the gallant for a moment and became the
+wide-awake officer.  He paused, took his bearings carefully, and
+scrutinized the trail behind him with searching eyes.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I have not seen this road before, Mademoiselle," he marked, "and it
+interests me.  It is not down on our map of the Annapolis district.
+Whither does it lead, may I ask?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Barbe's heart grew faint within her; but she answered lightly, with a
+look that somehow conveyed to him the impression that he should not be
+interested in roads when she was by.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"They haul wood over it, my uncle and his neighbors, in the winter,"
+she answered, "and black mud in summer from the swamp back there."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Englishman appeared satisfied; but she felt that his curiosity was
+aroused, and with all her arts she strove to divert his thoughts
+exclusively to herself.  She succeeded in this to a degree that
+presently began to stir her apprehensiveness, and at her doorway she
+made her grateful farewells a trifle hurried.  But the Englishman would
+listen to nothing more discouraging than au revoir.  At last he said:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I shall be shooting over these woods again to-morrow"&mdash;Barbe clutched
+hard upon the latch and held her breath&mdash;"and shall give myself the
+pleasure of calling to ask after&mdash;but no!" he corrected himself.  "You
+are making me forget, Mademoiselle.  I have a council-meeting to fill
+my day with drudgery to-morrow."  (Barbe breathed again at this
+respite.)  "I must deny myself till the day after.  I may call then,
+may I not?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was a moment's pause, and in that moment the girl's swift brain
+made its decision.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Certainly, Monsieur le Commandant," she said, sweeping his face with a
+brilliant glance that made his nerves tingle sweetly; "I shall be much
+honored.  My aunt and I will be much honored!"  And with a curtsy half
+mocking, half formal, and a disastrous curving of her scarlet lips, she
+slipped into the house.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"By&mdash;Jove!" muttered the Englishman, as he strode away in a daze.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+From the window, behind the bean vines, Barbe watched him go.  The
+instant he was out of sight she darted from the door, sped swiftly over
+the rough pasture-lot, and disappeared among the twilights of the
+trail, where the afternoon shadows were already darkening to purple.
+She ran with the endurance of health and practice and a clean-breathing
+outdoor life; but presently her breath began to fail, her heart to
+thump madly against her slim sides.  Then&mdash;around a bend of the trail
+came Jean, returning earlier than his wont.  With an exclamation of
+glad surprise he sprang forward to meet her.  Still more was his
+surprise when she caught him by the shoulders with both hands and
+leaned, gasping and sobbing, against his breast.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After one fierce clasp he held her lightly and tenderly like a child,
+and anxiously scanned her face.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What is it, Barbe, beloved?  What is the matter?" he questioned
+eagerly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The ship," she panted, "must go!  You must go&mdash;<I>to-morrow</I> night!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Why?  But it is impossible!" he protested, bewildered.  "Mich' won't
+be here till the day after&mdash;and one man can't launch her, and can't
+sail her all by himself."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I tell you it must be done," she cried imperiously.  "You must, you
+must!"  And then, in a few edged words, she explained the situation.
+"If you can't, all is lost," she concluded, "for they will discover
+you, and seize the ship, the day after to-morrow.  Jean, I would never
+believe that you had any such word as 'can't.'"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+By this time Jean's face was white and his jaw was set.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Of course," he said quietly, "it will be done somehow.  I'm not beaten
+till I'm dead.  But the chances are, Sweet, that after I get the little
+ship launched I'll run her aground somewhere down the river, and be
+caught next day like a rat in a barrel.  It's ticklish navigating at
+best, down the river, and one man can't rightly manage even the
+foresail alone, and steer, in those eddies and twists in the channel.
+But&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But, Jean&mdash;" she interrupted, and then paused, leaning close against
+him, and looking up at him with eyes that seemed to him to make a
+brightness in the dark.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But what, beautiful one?" he questioned, leaning his face over her,
+and growing suddenly tremulous with a vague, wonderful expectancy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I can help!  Take me!"  And she hid her eyes against his rough
+shirt-sleeve.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+For one moment Jean stood tense, moveless, unable to apprehend this
+sudden realization of his dreams.  Then he swung her light figure up
+into his arms, and covered her face and hair with kisses.  With a
+little smile of content upon her lips she suffered his madness for a
+while.  Then she made him put her down.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There is no time now to make love to me," she said.  "We've so much to
+do and plan.  You've never run away with a ship and a girl before,
+Jean, and we must make sure you know just how to go about it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That night Barbe snatched a few hours of sleep, being mindful of the
+witchery of her eyes.  But Jean toiled all night long, driving his yoke
+of oxen to and fro between his cabin and his shipyard in the forest.
+And he was not weary.  His heart was light as air and sang with every
+pulse.  His strength and his star&mdash;he felt them equal to any crisis.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+On the following afternoon, when it wanted yet an hour of high tide,
+and the shadows of the maples were beginning to creep over the yellow
+chips, all was ready.  Full of a wild gayety, and untiring as a boy,
+Barbe had worked all day, getting the sails bent, the stores on board,
+the last of block and tackle into place.  Suddenly, from a post of
+vantage in the high-pointing bowsprit, she looked down the trail and
+clapped her brown hands with a shout of delight.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mich' has come!" she cried.  And Mich' Masson, striding into the open,
+threw down a big red bundle on the chips.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Pretty nigh ready?" he inquired.  "Why, what is the matter, <I>mon
+gar'</I>?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Jean's face had fallen like his heart.  There was no longer any
+necessity of Barbe's sharing his adventure.  But he hurried forward and
+clasped his friend's hand.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We've got to get away to-night," he stammered, struggling bravely to
+make his voice sound cheerful.  "The English are coming over here
+to-morrow to find out what's going on&mdash;so it's time for us to be going
+off!  Barbe was to help me through with it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mich' held to Jean's hand, and glanced questioningly from his troubled
+face to the girl's teasing one.  But Barbe had burned her bridges and
+saw no reason to be unmerciful.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I suppose I'll have to be just crew and cabin-boy now, Mich'," she
+pouted.  "Jean was going to let me be first mate, and there wasn't to
+be any crew."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+A great joy broke over Jean's face, and Mich' removed his gray woolen
+cap with a sweeping bow.  But before either could reply there came from
+a little way up the trail the excited yapping as of a dog that has
+treed a partridge.  The three looked at each other, their eyes wide
+with apprehension.  Then the report of a gun.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The Englishman!" gasped Barbe.  "He has not waited.  Quick, hide, one
+each side of the trail, and take him prisoner.  Don't shoot him.  He
+was kind to me."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Jean snatched up his musket and the two men darted into the bush.  By a
+rope from the bulwarks Barbe swung herself lightly to the ground.  In
+haste she crossed the chip-strewn open, and then, carelessly swinging
+her hat in her hand, and singing a fitful snatch of song, she sauntered
+up the trail to meet the intruder.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The trail wound rapidly, so that before she had gone two-score paces
+the ship was hid from her view.  A few steps more and the Englishman
+came in sight, swinging forward alertly, a fluff of brown feathers
+dangling from his right hand.  He was face to face with Barbe; and the
+delighted astonishment that came into his eyes was dashed with a faint
+chill of suspicion.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How fate favors me, Mademoiselle!" he exclaimed, doffing his cap.
+"Gad, you are a brave girl to wander so far into the woods alone!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No, Monsieur, fate does not favor you," retorted Barbe with a sort of
+intimate petulance, holding out her brown fingers.  "You had no
+business coming to-day when you said you were not coming till
+to-morrow.  Now, you are going to find out a secret of mine which I
+didn't want any one to find out."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But you are not angry at seeing me," he protested.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"N-n-o-o!" she answered, her head upon one side in doubt, while she
+bewildered him with her eyes.  "But I'm sorry in a way!  Well, come and
+I'll show you.  Forgive me for lying to you yesterday about this road!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And she turned to accompany him, walking very close to his side, so
+that her slim shoulder touched his arm and blurred his sagacity.  The
+next instant came the sharp order: "Halt!  Don't stir, or you're dead!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Englishman found himself facing two leveled muskets.  At the same
+moment his own weapon went flying into the underbrush, twitched from
+his hold by a dexterous catch of Barbe's fingers.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He stood still and very straight, his arms at his sides, eying his
+assailants steadily.  His first impulse was to dart upon them with his
+naked hands; but he saw the well-knit form of Jean, almost his own
+height, the lean, set face, a certain exultation in the eyes which he
+read aright; and he saw the shrewd, dark, confident look of Mich', the
+experienced master of situations.  The red mounted slowly to his face,
+and he turned upon Barbe a look wherein reproach at once gave way to
+scorn and a kind of shame.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Barbe herself flushed under that look.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You wrong me, Monsieur!" she cried impetuously.  "I did it to save
+you.  You are a brave man, and would have tried to fight, and they
+would have killed you!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He bowed stiffly and turned to the men.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What do you want of me?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Your parole!" said Jean.  "Give us your word that you will come with
+us quietly, making no resistance and no effort to escape."  The
+Englishman shut his lips doggedly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Then you must be bound," said Mich' with curt decision.  "We've no
+time to waste."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Let <I>me</I> bind you, Monsieur," said Barbe, taking his wrists gently and
+putting them behind his back.  "It is no dishonor to be captive to a
+woman."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+With a silk scarf from her waist, and a feminine cunning in knots, she
+quickly tied his hands together so that he felt himself quite hopeless
+of escape.  Then, in a cold wrath, he was led forward; with no
+constraint but Barbe's touch upon his arm.  The ship, high on her
+stocks, came into view.  And he understood.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Seating himself upon a log, with his back against a tree, Mich' passed
+a rope about his waist and made him fast to the trunk.  There he sat
+and chewed his indignation, while his captors went in haste about their
+work.  But presently he grew interested.  He saw the blocks knocked out
+from under the little ship's sides, so that she came down upon the
+greased ways and slid smoothly into the flood.  He saw her checked
+gradually by a rope turned once around a tree trunk, so that she was
+kept from running aground on the opposite side of the Basin.  He saw a
+small boat dragged down from the bushes to the edge of the tide, and
+oars put into it.  By this time he had revolved many aspects of the
+case in his mind.  Then came to him Barbe and Jean.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Monsieur," said Jean, "I regret to have inconvenienced you in this
+way.  But you would without mercy have wrecked all my hopes.  I have
+put all my means into this little ship, built with my own hands.  My
+heart is set on removing from the land of Acadie, to live once more
+under my own flag of France.  But I do not wish to take you a prisoner
+to Louisburg, or to put you to any further annoyance.  To Mademoiselle
+Dieudonné you showed yourself yesterday a most kind and courteous
+gentleman.  All Acadie knows you are brave.  Give me your word that you
+will in no way seek to stop or hinder our departure, and let me set you
+free!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Give your parole, Monsieur!" begged Barbe, "or you will have to devote
+yourself to entertaining me all the way to Louisburg."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Englishman's face brightened.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Almost you make me wish to go to Louisburg, Mademoiselle.  With the
+duty you apportion me I should be much happier, I assure you, than here
+in Annapolis trying to govern your good fellow-countrymen.  But I will
+give my parole.  I promise you, sir," and he turned his face to Jean,
+"that I will not in any way interfere with the departure of you and
+your ship from Acadie."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Thank you," said Jean, and he undid the rope and the scarf.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The Englishman arose, walked down to the waterside with Barbe, and with
+elaborate courtesy helped her into the boat.  He bent his lips over her
+hand as he said good-by.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Turning upon him then a laughing face of farewell, Barbe cried: "Never,
+never will I pardon you, Monsieur, for consenting to give your parole!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Mademoiselle," he answered, "I am your prisoner still, and always."
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap19"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THOSE OLD LUNES! OR, WHICH IS THE MADMAN?
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By W. GILMORE SIMMS
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+"I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly I know a
+hawk from a handsaw."&mdash;<I>Hamlet</I>.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER I
+</H4>
+
+<P>
+We had spent a merry night of it.  Our stars had paled their not
+ineffectual fires, only in the daylight; and while Dan Phoebus was yet
+rising, "jocund on the misty mountain tops," I was busy in adjusting my
+foot in the stirrup and mounting my good steed Priam, to find my way by
+a close cut, and through narrow Indian trails, to my lodgings in the
+little town of C&mdash;&mdash;, on the very borders of Mississippi.  There were a
+dozen of us, all merry larks, half mad with wine and laughter, and the
+ride of seven miles proved a short one.  In less than two hours, I was
+snugly snoozing in my own sheets, and dreaming of the twin daughters of
+old Hansford Owens.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Well might one dream of such precious damsels.  Verily, they seemed,
+all of a sudden, to have become a part of my existence.  They filled my
+thoughts, excited my imagination, and,&mdash;if it be not an impertinence to
+say any thing of the heart of a roving lad of eighteen,&mdash;then were they
+at the very bottom of mine.&mdash;Both of them, let me say,&mdash;for they were
+twins, and were endowed with equal rights by nature.  I was not yet
+prepared to say what was the difference, if any, between their claims.
+One was fair, the other brown; one pensive, the other merry as the
+cricket of Venus.  Susannah was meek as became an Elder's daughter;
+Emmeline so mischievous that she might well have worried the meekest of
+the saints in the calendar from his propriety and position.  I confess,
+though I thought constantly of Susannah, I always looked after Emmeline
+the first.  She was the brunette&mdash;one of your flashing, sparkling,
+effervescing beauties,&mdash;perpetually running over with
+exultation&mdash;brimful of passionate fancies that tripped, on tiptoe, half
+winged, through her thoughts.  She was a creature to make your blood
+bound in your bosom,&mdash;to take you entirely off your feet, and fancy,
+for the moment, that your heels are quite as much entitled to dominion
+as your head.  Lovely too,&mdash;brilliant, if not absolutely perfect in
+features&mdash;she kept you always in a sort of sunlight.  She sung well,
+talked well, danced well&mdash;was always in air&mdash;seemed never herself to
+lack repose, and, it must be confessed, seldom suffered it to any body
+else.  Her dancing was the crowning grace and glory.  She was no
+Taglioni&mdash;not an Ellsler&mdash;I do not pretend that.  But she was a born
+artiste.  Every motion was a study.  Every look was life.  Her form
+subsided into the sweetest luxuriance of attitude, and rose into motion
+with some such exquisite buoyancy, as would become Venus issuing from
+the foam.  Her very affectations were so naturally worn, that you at
+length looked for them as essential to her charm.  I confess&mdash;but no!
+Why should I do anything so foolish?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Susannah was a very different creature.  She was a fair girl&mdash;rather
+pale, perhaps, when her features were in repose.  She had rich soft
+flaxen hair, and dark blue eyes.  She looked rather than spoke.  Her
+words were few, her glances many.  She was not necessarily silent in
+silence.  On the contrary, her very silence had frequently a
+significance, taken with her looks, that needed no help from speech.
+She seemed to look through you at a glance, yet there was a liquid
+sweetness in her gaze, that disarmed it of all annoyance.  If Emmeline
+was the glory of the sunlight&mdash;Susannah was the sovereign of the shade.
+If the song of the one filled you with exultation, that of the other
+awakened all your tenderness.  If Emmeline was the creature for the
+dance,&mdash;Susannah was the wooing, beguiling Egeria, who could snatch you
+from yourself in the moments of respite and repose.  For my part, I
+felt that I could spend all my mornings with the former, and all my
+evenings with the latter.  Susannah with her large, blue, tearful eyes,
+and few, murmuring and always gentle accents, shone out upon me at
+nightfall as that last star that watches in the vault of night for the
+coming of the sapphire dawn.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+So much for the damsels.  And all these fancies, not to say feelings,
+were the fruit of but three short days' acquaintance with their
+objects.  But these were days when thoughts travel merrily and
+fast&mdash;when all that concerns the fancies and the affections, are caught
+up in a moment, as if the mind were nothing but a congeries of
+instincts, and the sensibilities, with a thousand delicate antennae,
+were ever on the grasp for prey.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Squire Owens was a planter of tolerable condition.  He was a widower,
+with these two lovely and lovable daughters&mdash;no more.  But, bless you!
+Mine was no calculating heart.  Very far from it.  Neither the wealth
+of the father, nor the beauty of the girls, had yet prompted me to
+think of marriage.  Life was pleasant enough as it was.  Why burden it?
+Let well enough alone, say I.  I had no wish to be happier.  A wife
+never entered my thoughts.  What might have come of being often with
+such damsels, there's no telling; but just then it was quite enough to
+dance with Emmeline, and muse with Susannah, and&mdash;<I>vive la bagatelle</I>!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I need say nothing more of my dreams, since the reader sufficiently
+knows the subject.  I slept late that day, and only rose in time for
+dinner, which, in that almost primitive region, took place at 12
+o'clock, M.  I had no appetite.  A herring and soda water might have
+sufficed, but these were matters foreign to the manor.  I endured the
+day and headache together, as well as I could, slept soundly that
+night, with now the most ravishing fancies of Emmeline, and now the
+pleasant dreams of Susannah, one or other of whom still usurped the
+place of a bright particular star in my most capacious fancy.  Truth
+is, in those heyday days, my innocent heart never saw any terrors in
+polygamy.  I rose a new man, refreshed and very eager for a start.  I
+barely swallowed breakfast when Priam was at the door.  While I was
+about to mount, with thoughts filled with the meek beauties of
+Susannah,&mdash;I was arrested by the approach of no less a person than
+Ephraim Strong, the village blacksmith.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You're guine to ride, I see."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"To Squire Owens, I reckon."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Right."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, keep a sharp look out on the road, for there's news come down
+that the famous Archy Dargan has broke Hamilton jail."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And who's Archy Dargan?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What! don't know Archy?  Why, he's the madman that's been shut up
+there, it's now guine on two years."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A madman, eh?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, and a mighty sevagerous one at that.  He's the cunningest white
+man going.  Talks like a book, and knows how to get out of a
+scrape,&mdash;is jest as sensible as any man for a time, but, sudden, he
+takes a start, like a shying horse, and before you knows where you are,
+his heels are in your jaw.  Once he blazes out, it's knife or gun,
+hatchet or hickory&mdash;any thing he can lay hands on.  He's killed two men
+already, and cut another's throat a'most to killing.  He's an ugly chap
+to meet on the road, so look out right and left."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What sort of man is he?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"In looks?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, I reckon, he's about your heft.  He's young and tallish, with a
+fair skin, brown hair, and a mighty quick keen blue eye, that never
+looks steadily nowhere.  Look sharp for him.  The sheriff with his
+'spose-you-come-and-take-us'&mdash;is out after him, but he's mighty cute to
+dodge, and had the start some twelve hours afore they missed him."
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER II
+</H4>
+
+<P>
+The information thus received did not disquiet me.  After the momentary
+reflection that it might be awkward to meet a madman, out of bounds,
+upon the highway, I quickly dismissed the matter from my mind.  I had
+no room for any but pleasant meditations.  The fair Susannah was now
+uppermost in my dreaming fancies, and, reversing the grasp upon my
+whip, the ivory handle of which, lined with an ounce or two of lead,
+seemed to me a sufficiently effective weapon for the worst of dangers,
+I bade my friendly blacksmith farewell, and dashed forward upon the
+high road.  A smart canter soon took me out of the settlement, and,
+once in the woods, I recommended myself with all the happy facility of
+youth, to its most pleasant and beguiling imaginings.  I suppose I had
+ridden a mile or more&mdash;the story of the bedlamite was gone utterly from
+my thought&mdash;when a sudden turn in the road showed me a person, also
+mounted, and coming towards me at an easy trot, some twenty-five or
+thirty yards distant.  There was nothing remarkable in his appearance.
+He was a plain farmer or woodman, clothed in ample homespun, and riding
+a short heavy chunk of an animal, that had just been taken from the
+plough.  The rider was a spare, long-legged person, probably thirty
+years or thereabouts.  He looked innocent enough, wearing that simple,
+open-mouthed sort of countenance, the owner of which, we assume, at a
+glance, will never set any neighbouring stream on fire.  He belonged
+evidently to a class as humble as he was simple,&mdash;but I had been
+brought up in a school which taught me that the claims of poverty were
+quite as urgent upon courtesy as those of wealth.  Accordingly, as we
+neared each other, I prepared to bestow upon him the usual civil
+recognition of the highway.  What is it Scott says&mdash;I am not sure that
+I quote him rightly&mdash;
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"When men in distant forests meet,<BR>
+They pass not as in peaceful street."<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+And, with the best of good humour, I rounded my lips into a smile, and
+got ready my salutation.  To account somewhat for its effect when
+uttered, I must premise that my own personal appearance, at this time,
+was rather wild and impressive.  My face was full of laughter and my
+manners of buoyancy.  My hair was very long, and fell in masses upon my
+shoulder, unrestrained by the cap which I habitually wore, and which,
+as I was riding under heavy shade trees, was grasped in my hand along
+with my riding whip.  As the stranger drew nigh, the arm was extended,
+cap and whip lifted in air, and with free, generous lungs, I
+shouted&mdash;"good morning, my friend,&mdash;how wags the world with you to-day?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The effect of this address was prodigious.  The fellow gave no
+answer,&mdash;not a word, not a syllable&mdash;not the slightest nod of the
+head,&mdash;<I>mais, tout au contraire</I>.  But for the dilating of his amazed
+pupils, and the dropping of the lower jaw, his features might have been
+chiselled out of stone.  They wore an expression amounting to
+consternation, and I could see that he caught up his bridle with
+increased alertness, bent himself to the saddle, half drew up his
+horse, and then, as if suddenly resolved, edged him off, as closely as
+the woods would allow, to the opposite side of the road.  The
+undergrowth was too thick to allow of his going into the wood at the
+spot where we encountered, or he certainly would have done so.
+Somewhat surprised at this, I said something, I cannot now recollect
+what, the effect of which was even more impressive upon him than my
+former speech.  The heads of our horses were now nearly parallel&mdash;the
+road was an ordinary wagon track, say twelve feet wide&mdash;I could have
+brushed him with my cap as we passed, and, waving it still aloft, he
+seemed to fancy that such was my intention,&mdash;for, inclining his whole
+body on the off side of his nag, as the Comanche does when his aim is
+to send an arrow at his enemy beneath his neck&mdash;his heels thrown back,
+though spurless, were made to belabour with the most surprising
+rapidity the flanks of his drowsy animal.  And, not without some
+effect.  The creature dashed first into a trot, then into a canter, and
+finally into a gallop, which, as I was bound one way and he the other,
+soon threw a considerable space between us.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The fellow's mad!" was my reflection and speech, as, wheeling my horse
+half about, I could see him looking backward, and driving his heels
+still into the sides of his reluctant hack.  The next moment gave me a
+solution of the matter.  The simple countryman had heard of the
+bedlamite from Hamilton jail.  My bare head, the long hair flying in
+the wind, my buoyancy of manner, and the hearty, and, perhaps, novel
+form of salutation with which I addressed him, had satisfied him that I
+was the person.  As the thought struck me, I resolved to play the game
+out, and, with a restless love of levity which has been too frequently
+my error, I put the whip over my horse's neck, and sent him forward in
+pursuit.  My nag was a fine one, and very soon the space was lessened
+between me and the chase.  As he heard the footfalls behind, the
+frightened fugitive redoubled his exertions.  He laid himself to it,
+his heels paddling in the sides of his donkey with redoubled industry.
+And thus I kept him for a good mile, until the first houses of the
+settlement grew visible in the distance.  I then once more turned upon
+the path to the Owens', laughing merrily at the rare chase, and the
+undisguised consternation of the countryman.  The story afforded ample
+merriment to my fair friends Emmeline and Susannah.  "It was so
+ridiculous that one of my appearance should be taken for a madman.  The
+silly fellow deserved the scare."  On these points we were all
+perfectly agreed.  That night we spent charmingly.  The company did not
+separate till near one o'clock.  We had fun and fiddles.  I danced by
+turns with the twins, and more than once with a Miss Gridley, a very
+pretty girl, who was present.  Squire Owens was in the best of humours,
+and, no ways loth, I was made to stay all night.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER III
+</H4>
+
+<P>
+A new day of delight dawned upon us with the next.  Our breakfast made
+a happy family picture, which I began to think it would be cruel to
+interrupt.  So snugly did I sit beside Emmeline, and so sweetly did
+Susannah minister at the coffee urn, and so patriarchally did the old
+man look around upon the circle, that my meditations were all in favour
+of certain measures for perpetuating the scene.  The chief difficulty
+seemed to be, in the way of a choice between the sisters.
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"How happy could I be with either,<BR>
+Were t'other dear charmer away."<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent">
+I turned now from one to the other, only to become more bewildered.
+The lively glance and playful remark of Emmeline, her lovely, smiling
+visage, and buoyant, unpremeditative air, were triumphant always while
+I beheld them; but the pensive, earnest look of Susannah, the mellow
+cadences of her tones, seemed always to sink into my soul, and were
+certainly remembered longest.  Present, Emmeline was irresistible;
+absent, I thought chiefly of Susannah.  Breakfast was fairly over
+before I came to a decision.  We adjourned to the parlour,&mdash;and there,
+with Emmeline at the piano, and Susannah with her Coleridge in
+hand&mdash;her favourite poet&mdash;I was quite as much distracted as before.
+The bravura of the one swept me completely off my feet.  And when I
+pleaded with the other to read me the touching poem of
+"Genevieve"&mdash;-her low, subdued and exquisitely modulated utterance, so
+touching, so true to the plaintive and seductive sentiment, so
+harmonious even when broken, so thrilling even when most checked and
+hushed, was quite as little to be withstood.  Like the ass betwixt two
+bundles of hay, my eyes wandered from one to the other uncertain where
+to fix.  And thus passed the two first hours after breakfast.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The third brought an acquisition to our party.  We heard the trampling
+of horses' feet in the court below, and all hurried to the windows, to
+see the new comer.  We had but a glimpse of him&mdash;a tall, good-looking
+personage, about thirty years of age, with great whiskers, and a huge
+military cloak.  Squire Owens met him in the reception room, and they
+remained some half hour or three quarters together.  It was evidently a
+business visit.  The girls were all agog to know what it was about, and
+I was mortified to think that Emmeline was now far less eager to
+interest me than before.  She now turned listlessly over the pages of
+her music book, or strummed upon the keys of her piano, with the air of
+one whose thoughts were elsewhere.  Susannah did not seem so much
+disturbed,&mdash;she still continued to draw my attention to the more
+pleasing passages of the poet; but I could see, or I fancied, that even
+she was somewhat curious as to the coming of the stranger.  Her eyes
+turned occasionally to the parlour door at the slightest approaching
+sound, and she sometimes looked in my face with a vacant eye, when I
+was making some of my most favourable points of conversation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+At length there was a stir within, a buzz and the scraping of feet.
+The door was thrown open, and, ushered by the father, the stranger made
+his appearance.  His air was rather <I>distingué</I>.  His person was well
+made, tall and symmetrical.  His face was martial and expressive.  His
+complexion was of a rich dark brown; his eye was grey, large, and
+restless&mdash;his hair thin, and dishevelled.  His carriage was very erect;
+his coat, which was rather seedy, was close buttoned to his chin.  His
+movements were quick and impetuous, and seemed to obey the slightest
+sound, whether of his own, or of the voices of others.  He approached
+the company with the manner of an old acquaintance; certainly, with
+that of a man who had always been conversant with the best society.
+His ease was unobtrusive,&mdash;a polite deference invariably distinguishing
+his deportment whenever he had occasion to address the ladies.  Still,
+he spoke as one having authority.  There was a lordly something in his
+tones,&mdash;an emphatic assurance in his gesture,&mdash;that seemed to settle
+every question; and, after a little while, I found that, hereafter, if
+I played on any fiddle at all, in that presence, it was certainly not
+to be the first.  Emmeline and Susannah had ears for me no longer.
+There was a something of impatience in the manner of the former
+whenever I spoke as if I had only interrupted much pleasanter sounds;
+and, even Susannah, the meek Susannah, put down her Coleridge upon a
+stool, and seemed all attention, only for the imposing stranger.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The effect upon the old man was scarcely less agreeable.  Col.
+Nelson,&mdash;so was the stranger called&mdash;had come to see about the purchase
+of his upper mill-house tract&mdash;a body of land containing some four
+thousand acres, the sale of which was absolutely necessary to relieve
+him from certain incumbrances.  From the conversation which he had
+already had with his visitor, it appeared that the preliminaries would
+be of easy adjustment, and Squire Owens was in the best of all possible
+humours.  It was nothing but Col. Nelson,&mdash;Col. Nelson.  The girls did
+not seem to need this influence, though they evidently perceived it;
+and, in the course of the first half hour after his introduction, I
+felt myself rapidly becoming de trop.  The stranger spoke in passionate
+bursts,&mdash;at first in low tones,&mdash;with halting, hesitating manner, then,
+as if the idea were fairly grasped, he dilated into a torrent of
+utterance, his voice rising with his thought, until he started from his
+chair and confronted the listener.  I cannot deny that there was a
+richness in his language, a warmth and colour in his thought, which
+fascinated while it startled me.  It was only when he had fairly ended
+that one began to ask what had been the provocation to so much warmth,
+and whether the thought to which we had listened was legitimately the
+growth of previous suggestions.  But I was in no mood to listen to the
+stranger, or to analyze what he said.  I found my situation quite too
+mortifying&mdash;a mortification which was not lessened, when I perceived
+that neither of the two damsels said a word against my proposed
+departure.  Had they shown but the slightest solicitude, I might have
+been reconciled to my temporary obscuration.  But no! they suffered me
+to rise and declare my purpose, and made no sign.  A cold courtesy from
+them, and a stately and polite bow from Col. Nelson, acknowledged my
+parting salutation, and Squire Owens attended me to the threshold, and
+lingered with me till my horse was got in readiness.  As I dashed
+through the gateway, I could hear the rich voice of Emmeline swelling
+exultingly with the tones of her piano, and my fancy presented me with
+the images of Col. Nelson, hanging over her on one hand, while the meek
+Susannah on the other, was casting those oblique glances upon him which
+had so frequently been addressed to me.  "Ah! pestilent jades," I
+exclaimed in the bitterness of a boyish heart; "this then is the love
+of woman."
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER IV
+</H4>
+
+<P>
+Chewing such bitter cud as this, I had probably ridden a good mile,
+when suddenly I heard the sound of human voices, and looking up,
+discovered three men, mounted, and just in front of me.  They had
+hauled up, and were seemingly awaiting my approach.  A buzzing
+conversation was going on among them.  "That's he!" said one.  "Sure?"
+was the question of another.  A whistle at my very side caused me to
+turn my head, and as I did so, my horse was caught by the bridle, and I
+received a severe blow from a club above my ears, which brought me
+down, almost unconscious, upon the ground.  In an instant, two stout
+fellows were upon me, and busy in the praiseworthy toil of roping me,
+hands and feet, where I lay.  Hurt, stung, and utterly confounded by
+the surprise, I was not prepared to suffer this indignity with
+patience.  I made manful struggle, and for a moment succeeded in
+shaking off both assailants.  But another blow, taking effect upon my
+temples, and dealt with no moderate appliance of hickory, left me
+insensible.  When I recovered consciousness, I found myself in a cart,
+my hands tied behind me, my head bandaged with a red cotton
+handkerchief, and my breast and arms covered with blood.  A stout
+fellow rode beside me in the cart, while another drove, and on each
+side of the vehicle trotted a man, well armed with a double-barrelled
+gun.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What does all this mean?" I demanded.  "Why am I here?  Why this
+assault?  What do you mean to do with me?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Don't be obstropolous," said one of the men.  "We don't mean to hurt
+you; only put you safe.  We had to tap you on the head a little, for
+your own good."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Indeed!" I exclaimed, the feeling of that unhappy tapping upon the
+head, making me only the sorer at every moment&mdash;"but will you tell me
+what this is for, and in what respect did my good require that my head
+should be broken?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It might have been worse for you, where you was onbeknown," replied
+the spokesman,&mdash;"but we knowd your situation, and sarved you off
+easily.  Be quiet now, and&mdash;&mdash;"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What do you mean&mdash;what is my situation?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, I reckon we know.  Only you be quiet, or we'll have to give you
+the skin."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And he held aloft a huge wagon whip as he spoke.  I had sufficient
+proof already of the unscrupulousness with which my companions acted,
+not to be very chary of giving them farther provocation, and, in silent
+misgiving, I turned my head to the opposite side of the vehicle.  The
+first glance in this quarter revealed to me the true history of my
+disaster, and furnished an ample solution of the whole mystery.  Who
+should I behold but the very fellow whom I had chased into town the day
+before.  The truth was now apparent.  I had been captured as the stray
+bedlamite from Hamilton jail.  It was because of this that I had been
+"tapped on the head&mdash;only for my own good."  As the conjecture flashed
+upon me, I could not avoid laughter, particularly as I beheld the still
+doubtful and apprehensive visage of the man beside me.  My laughter had
+a very annoying effect upon all parties.  It was a more fearful sign
+than my anger might have been.  The fellow whom I had scared, edged a
+little farther from the cart, and the man who had played spokesman, and
+upon whom the whole business seemed to have devolved, now shook his
+whip again&mdash;"None of that, my lad," said he, "or I'll have to bruise
+you again.  Don't be obstropolous."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You've taken me up for a madman, have you?" said I.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, I reckon you ought to know what you are.  There's no disputing
+it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And this silly fellow has made you believe it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Reckon!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You've made a great mistake."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Don't think it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But you have: Only take me to C&mdash;&mdash;, and I'll prove it by General
+Cocke, himself, or Squire Humphries, or any body in the town."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No! no! my friend,&mdash;that cock won't fight.  We aint misdoubting at
+all, but you're the right man.  You answer all the descriptions, and
+Jake Sturgis here, has made his affidavy that you chased him, neck and
+neck, as mad as any blind puppy in a dry September, for an hour by sun
+yesterday.  We don't want no more proof."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"And where do you mean to carry me?" I enquired, with all the coolness
+I was master of.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well, we'll put you up in a pen we've got a small piece from here; and
+when the sheriff comes, he'll take you back to your old quarters at
+Hamilton jail, where I reckon they'll fix you a little tighter than
+they had you before.  We've sent after the sheriff, and his
+'spose-you-come-and-take-us,' and I reckon they'll be here about
+sun-down."
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER V
+</H4>
+
+<P>
+Here was a "situation" indeed.  Burning with indignation, I was yet
+sufficiently master of myself to see that any ebullition of rage on my
+part, would only confirm the impression which they had received of my
+insanity.  I said little, therefore, and that little was confined to an
+attempt to explain the chase of yesterday, which Jake Sturgis had made
+the subject of such a mischievous "affidavy."  But as I could not do
+this without laughter, I incurred the danger of the whip.  My laugh was
+ominous,&mdash;Jake edged off once more to the roadside; the man beside me,
+got his bludgeon in readiness, and the potent wagon whip of the leader
+of the party was uplifted in threatening significance.  Laughter was
+clearly out of the question, and it naturally ceased on my part, as I
+got in sight of the "pen" in which I was to be kept secure.  This
+structure is one well known to the less civilized regions of the
+country.  It is a common place of safe-keeping in the absence of jail
+and proper officers.  It is called technically a "bull pen," and
+consists of huge logs, roughly put together, crossing at right angles,
+forming a hollow square,&mdash;the logs too massy to be removed, and the
+structure too high to be climbed, particularly if the prisoner should
+happen to be, like myself, fairly tied up hand and foot together.  I
+relucted terribly at being put into this place.  I pleaded urgently,
+struggled fiercely, and was thrust in neck and heels without remorse;
+and, in sheer hopelessness and vexation, I lay with my face prone to
+the earth, and half buried among the leaves, weeping, I shame to
+confess it, the bitter tears of impotence and mortification.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Meantime, the news of my capture went through the country;&mdash;not <I>my</I>
+capture, mark me, but that of the famous madman, Archy Dargan, who had
+broke Hamilton jail.  This was an event, and visitors began to collect.
+My captors, who kept watch on the outside of my den, had their hands
+full in answering questions.  Man, woman and child, Squire and
+ploughboy, and, finally, dames and damsels, accumulated around me, and
+such a throng of eyes as pierced the crevices of my log dungeon, to see
+the strange monster by whom they were threatened, now disarmed of his
+terrors, were,&mdash;to use the language of one of my keepers&mdash;"a power to
+calkilate."  This was not the smallest part of my annoyance.  The logs
+were sufficiently far apart to suffer me to see and to be seen, and I
+crouched closer to my rushes, and buried my face more thoroughly than
+ever, if possible, to screen my dishonoured visage from their curious
+scrutiny.  This conduct mightily offended some of the visitors.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I can't see his face," said one.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Stir him with a long pole!"&mdash;and I was greatly in danger of being
+treated as a surly bear, refusing to dance for his keeper; since one of
+mine seemed very much disposed to gratify the spectator, and had
+actually begun sharpening the end of a ten foot hickory, for the
+purpose of pricking me into more sociableness.  He was prevented from
+carrying his generous design into effect by the suggestion of one of
+his companions.  "Better don't, Bosh; if ever he should git out agen,
+he'd put his ear mark upon you."  "Reckon you're right," was the reply
+of the other, as he laid his rod out of sight.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Meanwhile, the people came and went, each departing visitor sending
+others.  A couple of hours might have elapsed leaving me in this
+humiliating situation, chained to the stake, the beast of a bear
+garden, with fifty greedy and still dissatisfied eyes upon me.  Of
+these, fully one fourth were of the tender gender; some pitied me, some
+laughed, and all congratulated themselves that I was safely laid by the
+heels, incapable of farther mischief.  It was not the most agreeable
+part of their remarks, to find that they all universally agreed that I
+was a most frightful looking object.  Whether they saw my face or not,
+they all discovered that I glared frightfully upon them, and I heard
+one or two of them ask in under tones, "did you see his teeth&mdash;-how
+sharp!" I gnashed them with a vengeance all the while, you may be sure.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+CHAPTER VI
+</H4>
+
+<P>
+The last and worst humiliation was yet to come&mdash;that which put me for a
+long season out of humour with all human and woman nature.  Conscious
+of an unusual degree of bustle without, I was suddenly startled by
+sounds of a voice that had been once pleasingly familiar.  It was that
+of a female, a clear, soft, transparent sound, which, till this moment,
+had never been associated in my thoughts with any thing but the most
+perfect of all mortal melodies.  It was now jangled harsh, like "sweet
+bells out of tune."  The voice was that of Emmeline.  "Good heavens!" I
+exclaimed to myself&mdash;"can she be here?"  In another instant, I heard
+that of Susannah&mdash;the meek Susannah,&mdash;she too was among the curious to
+examine the features of the bedlamite, Archy Dargan.  "Dear me," said
+Emmeline, "is he in that place?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What a horrid place!" said Susannah.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's the very place for such a horrid creature," responded Emmeline.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Can't he get out, papa?" said Susannah.  "Isn't a mad person very
+strong?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh! don't frighten a body, Susannah, before we have had a peep," cried
+Emmeline; "I declare I'm afraid to look&mdash;do, Col. Nelson, peep first
+and see if there's no danger."  And there was the confounded Col.
+Nelson addressing his eyes to my person, and assuring his fair
+companions, my Emmeline, my Susannah, that there was no sort of
+danger,&mdash;that I was evidently in one of my fits of apathy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"The paroxysm is off for the moment, ladies,&mdash;and even if he were
+violent, it is impossible that he should break through the pen.  He
+seems quite harmless&mdash;you may look with safety."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Yes, he's mighty quiet now, Miss,"&mdash;said one of my keepers
+encouragingly, "but it's all owing to a close sight of my whip.  He was
+a-guine to be obstropolous more than once, when I shook it over
+him&mdash;he's usen to it, I reckon.  You can always tell when the roaring
+fit is coming on&mdash;for he breaks out in such a dreadful sort of
+laughing."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ha!  Ha!&mdash;he laughs does he&mdash;Ha!  Ha!" such was the somewhat wild
+interruption offered by Col. Nelson himself.  If my laugh produced such
+an effect upon my keeper, his had a very disquieting effect upon me.
+But, the instinctive conviction that Emmeline and Susannah were now
+gazing upon me, prompted me with a sort of fascination, to lift my head
+and look for them.  I saw their eyes quite distinctly.  Bright
+treacheries!  I could distinguish between them&mdash;and there were those of
+Col. Nelson beside them&mdash;the three persons evidently in close
+propinquity.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What a dreadful looking creature!" said Susannah.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dreadful!" said Emmeline, "I see nothing so dreadful in him.  He seems
+tame enough.  I'm sure, if that's a madman, I don't see why people
+should be afraid of them."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Poor man, how bloody he is!" said Susannah.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"We had to tap him, Miss, a leetle upon the head, to bring him quiet.
+He's tame and innocent now, but you should see him when he's going to
+break out.  Only just hear him when he laughs."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I could not resist the temptation.  The last remark of my keeper fell
+on my ears like a suggestion, and suddenly shooting up my head, and
+glaring fiercely at the spectators, I gave them a yell of laughter as
+terrible as I could possibly make it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ah!" was the shriek of Susannah, as she dashed back from the logs.
+Before the sounds had well ceased, they were echoed from without and in
+more fearful and natural style from the practised lungs of Col. Nelson.
+His yells following mine, were enough to startle even me.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What!" he cried, thrusting his fingers through the crevice, "you would
+come out, would you,&mdash;you would try your strength with mine.  Let him
+out,&mdash;let him out!  I am ready for him, breast to breast, man against
+man, tooth and nail, forever and forever.  You can laugh too, but&mdash;
+Ha!  Ha!  Ha!&mdash;what do you say to that?  Shut up, shut up, and be
+ashamed of yourself.  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was a sensation without.  I could see that Emmeline recoiled from
+the side of her companion.  He had thrown himself into an attitude, had
+grappled the logs of my dungeon, and exhibited a degree of strange
+emotion, which, to say the least, took everybody by surprise.  My chief
+custodian was the first to speak.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Don't be scared, Mr.&mdash;there's no danger&mdash;he can't get out."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But I say let him out&mdash;let him out.  Look at him, ladies&mdash;look at him.
+You shall see what a madman is&mdash;you shall see how I can manage him.
+Hark ye, fellow,&mdash;out with him at once.  Give me your whip&mdash;I know all
+about his treatment.  You shall see me work him.  I'll manage
+him,&mdash;I'll fight with him, and laugh with him too&mdash;how we shall
+laugh&mdash;Ha!  Ha!  Ha!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+His horrible laughter&mdash;for it was horrible&mdash;was cut short by an
+unexpected incident.  He was knocked down as suddenly as I had been,
+with a blow from behind, to the astonishment of all around.  The
+assailant was the sheriff of Hamilton jail, who had just arrived and
+detected the fugitive, Archy Dargan&mdash;the most cunning of all
+bedlamites, as he afterwards assured me&mdash;in the person of the handsome
+Col. Nelson.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I knew the scamp by his laugh&mdash;I heard it half a mile," said the
+sheriff, as he planted himself upon the bosom of the prostrate man, and
+proceeded to leash him in proper order.  Here was a concatenation
+accordingly.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Who hev' I got in the pen?" was the sapient inquiry of my captor&mdash;the
+fellow whose whip had been so potent over my imagination.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Who?  Have you any body there?" demanded the sheriff.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I reckon!&mdash;We cocht a chap that Jake made affidavy was the madman."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Let him out then, and beg the man's pardon.  I'll answer for Archy
+Dargan."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+My appearance before the astonished damsels was gratifying to neither
+of us.  I was covered with mud and blood,&mdash;and they with confusion.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh!  Mr. &mdash;&mdash;, how could we think it was you, such a fright as they've
+made you."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Such was Miss Emmeline's speech after her recovery.  Susannah's was
+quite as characteristic.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am so very sorry, Mr. &mdash;&mdash;."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Spare your regrets, ladies," I muttered ungraciously, as I leapt on my
+horse.  "I wish you a very pleasant morning."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ha!  Ha!  Ha!" yelled the bedlamite, writhing and bounding in his
+leash&mdash;"a very pleasant morning."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The damsels took to their heels, and went off in one direction quite as
+fast as I did in the other.  Since that day, dear reader, I have never
+suffered myself to scare a fool, or to fall in love with a pair of
+twins; and if ever I marry, take my word for it, the happy woman shall
+neither be a Susannah, nor an Emmeline.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap20"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE CHIROPODIST
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By BAYARD TAYLOR
+</H4>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+R. Henry Bartlett was one of three gentlemen who rode from the railroad
+station to Moore's Hotel, at Trenton Falls, on the top of an omnibus;
+and who, having clambered down from that lofty perch, under the
+inspection of forty pairs of eyes leveled at them from the balcony,
+hastened to inscribe their names in the book, and secure the keys of
+their several chambers.  To no one of the three, however, was this
+privacy so welcome as to Mr. Bartlett, who, entering his room with
+flushed face, nervously dismissed the servant, locked the door, and
+dropped into a chair with a pant of relief.  Our business being
+entirely with him, we shall at once dismiss his two companions&mdash;whom,
+indeed, we have only introduced as accessories to the principal
+figure&mdash;and, taking our invisible seats in the opposite chair, proceed
+to a contemplation of his person.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Age&mdash;four, perhaps five, and twenty&mdash;certainly not more; height, five
+feet nine inches, with well-developed breast and shoulders; limbs,
+whose firm, ample muscle betrays itself through the straight lines of
+his light summer costume, and hands and feet of agreeable shape;
+complexion fair, with a skin of feminine fineness and transparency,
+whereon the uncontrollable blood writes his emotions so palpably that
+he who runs may read; eyes of a clear, honest blue, but so shy of
+meeting a steady gaze that few know how beautiful they really are;
+mouth full and sensitive, and of so rich and dewy a red that we can not
+help wishing he were a woman that we might be pardoned for kissing it;
+forehead broad, and rather low; hair&mdash;but here we hesitate, for his
+enemies would certainly call it red.  Indeed, in some lights it is red,
+but its prevailing tint is brown, with a bronze lustre on the curls.
+As he sits thus, unconscious of our observation, he is certainly
+handsome, in spite of a haunting air of timidity which weakens the
+expression of features not weak in themselves.  On further observation,
+we are inclined to believe that he has not achieved that easy poise of
+self-possession which, in men of becoming modesty, is the result of
+more or less social experience.  He belongs, evidently, to that class
+of awkward, honest, warm-hearted, and sensitive natures whom all men
+like, and some women.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mr. Bartlett's reflections, after his arrival, were&mdash;we have good
+reason to know&mdash;after this fashion: "When will I cease to be a fool?
+Why couldn't I stare back at all those people on the balcony as coolly
+as the two fellows who sat beside me?  Why couldn't I get down without
+missing the step and grazing my shin on the wheel?  Why should I walk
+into the house with my head down, and a million of cold little needles
+pricking my back, because men and women, and not sheep, were looking at
+me?  I have at least an average body, as men go&mdash;an average intellect,
+too, I think; yet every day I see spindly, brainless squirts [Mr.
+Bartlett would not have used this epithet in conversation, but it
+certainly passed through his mind] put me to shame by their
+self-possession.  The women think me a fool because I have not the
+courage to be natural and unembarrassed, and I carry the consciousness
+of the fact about me whenever I meet them.  Come, come: this will never
+do.  I am a man, and I ought to possess the ordinary resolution of a
+man.  Now, here's a chance to turn over a new leaf.  Nobody knows me;
+no one will notice me particularly; and whether I fail or succeed, the
+experiment will never be brought forward to my confusion hereafter."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Full of a sudden courage he sprang to his feet, and carefully adjusted
+his toilet for the tea-table, whistling cheerfully all the while.  At
+the sound of the gong he descended the staircase, and approached the
+dining-room with head erect, meeting the gaze of the other guests with
+a steadiness which resembled defiance.  He was surprised to find how
+mechanical and transitory were the glances he encountered.  As Mr.
+Bartlett's friend, I should not like to assert that in his efforts to
+appear self-possessed he approached the bounds of effrontery; but I
+have my own private suspicions about the matter.  At the table a lively
+conversation was carried on, and he was able to take many stealthy
+observations of the ladies without being noticed.  To his shame I must
+confess that he had never been seriously in love, though it was a
+condition he most earnestly desired.  Attracted toward women by the
+instinct of his nature, and repelled by his awkward embarrassment,
+there seemed little chance that he would ever attain it.  On this
+particular occasion, however, he cast his eyes around with the air of a
+sultan scanning his slaves before throwing the handkerchief to the
+chosen one.  The female guests&mdash;old, young, married, single,
+ill-favored or beautiful&mdash;were subjected to the review.  It is
+impossible to describe Mr. Bartlett's satisfaction with himself.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+He had passed over twenty-nine of the thirty-five ladies present
+without experiencing any special emotion; but at the thirtieth he was
+suddenly attacked by a recurrence of his habitual timidity.  He fixed
+his eyes upon his toast, painfully conscious by the warmth of his ears
+that he was blushing violently, and actually drank a third cup of tea
+(one more than his usual allowance) before he became sufficiently
+composed to look up again.  Really there was no cause for confusion.
+Her face was turned away, so that even the profile was not wholly
+visible; but the exquisite line of the forehead and cheek, bent inward
+at the angle of the unseen eye, and melting into the sweep of the neck
+and shoulder, were the surest possible prophecies of beauty.  Her
+chestnut hair, rippled at the temples, was gathered into a heavy,
+shining knot at the back of her head, and inwoven with the varnished,
+heart-shaped leaves of the smilax.  More than this Mr. Bartlett did not
+dare to notice.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+During the evening he flitted restlessly about the rooms, intent on an
+object which he thus explained to himself: "I should like to see
+whether her front face corresponds to the outline of her cheek.  I am
+alone; it is too late to visit the Falls, and a whim of this sort will
+help me to pass the time."  But the lady belonged, apparently, to a
+numerous party, who took possession of one end of the balcony and sat
+in the moonlight, in such a position that he could not see her features
+with distinctness.  The face was a pure oval, in a frame-work of superb
+hair, and the glossy leaves of smilax glittered like silver in the
+moonlight whenever she chanced to turn her head.  There were songs, and
+she sang&mdash;"Scenes that are brightest," or something of the kind,
+suggested by the influences of the night.  Her voice was clear and
+sweet, without much strength&mdash;one of those voices which seem to be made
+for singing to one ear alone.  "Here, by God's grace, is the one voice
+for me," thought Mr. Bartlett.  [He had just been reading the "Idyls of
+the King."]  He slipped off to bed, saying to himself: "A little more
+courage, and I may be able to make her acquaintance."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In the morning he set out to make the tour of the Falls.  Entering the
+glen from below, he slowly crept up the black shelves of rock, under
+and around the rush of the amber waters.  The naiads of Trenton, waving
+their scarfs of rainbow brede, tossed their foam fringes in his face:
+above, the dryads of the pine and beech looked down from their seats on
+the brink of the overhanging walls.  Mr. Bartlett was neither a poet
+nor a painter, nor was it necessary; but his temperament (as you may
+know from his skin and the color of his hair) was joyous and excitable,
+and he felt a degree of delight that made him forget his own self.  I
+fancy there are no embarrassing conventionalisms at the bottom of the
+earth&mdash;wherever that may be&mdash;and the glen at Trenton is two hundred
+feet on the way thither.  Our friend enjoyed to the full this partial
+release, and was surprised to find that he could assist several married
+ladies to climb the slippery steps at the High Pall without consciously
+blushing.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+How it came to pass he never could rightly tell, but certain it is
+that, on lifting his eyes after a long contemplation of the shifting
+slides of fretted amber, he found himself alone in the glen&mdash;with the
+exception of a young lady who sat on the rocks a few paces distant.  At
+the first glance he thought it was a child, for the slight form was
+habited in a Bloomer dress, and a broad hat shaded the graceful head.
+The wide trowsers were gathered around her ankles, and a pair of the
+prettiest feet he had ever seen dangled in the edge of the swift
+stream.  She was idly plucking up tufts of grass from the crevices of
+the rock, and tossing them in the mouth of the cataract, and her face
+was partly turned toward him.  It was the fair unknown of the evening
+before!  There was no mistaking the lovely cheek and the rippled
+chestnut hair.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mr. Bartlett felt&mdash;as he afterward expressed himself&mdash;a warm, sweet
+shudder run through all his veins.  Alone with that lovely creature,
+below the outside surface of the earth!  "Oh, if I could but speak to
+her!  Her dress shows that she can lay aside the soulless forms of
+society in such a place as this: why not I?  There's Larkin, and
+Kirkland, and lots of fellows I know, wouldn't hesitate a moment.  But
+what shall I say?  'The scenery's very fine?'  Pshaw!  But the first
+sentence is the only difficulty&mdash;-the rest will come of itself.  What
+if I address her boldly as an old acquaintance, and then apologize for
+my mistake?  Upon my word, a good idea!  So natural and possible!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Having determined upon this plan, he immediately put it into action
+before the resolve had time to cool.  His step was firm and his bearing
+was sufficiently confident as he approached her; but when she lifted
+her long lashes, disclosing a pair of large, limpid, hazel eyes, which
+regarded him, unabashed, with the transient curiosity one bestows upon
+a stranger, his face, I am sure, betrayed the humbug of the thing.  The
+lady, however, not anticipating what followed, could scarcely have
+remarked it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Raising his hat as he reached the corner of the rock upon which she
+sat, he said, in a voice so curiously balanced between his enforced
+boldness and his reflected surprise thereat, that he hardly recognized
+it as his own:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How do you do, Miss Lawrence?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The lady looked at him wonderingly&mdash;steady, child-like eyes, that
+frankly and innocently perused his face, as if seeking for some trace
+of a forgotten acquaintance.  Mr. Bartlett could not withdraw his,
+although he knew that his face was getting redder and his respiration
+more unsteady every moment.  He stammered forth:
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Miss Lawrence, of South Carolina, I believe."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You are mistaken, Sir," said the lady, with the least shade of
+coldness in her voice, but it fell upon Mr. Bartlett like the wind from
+an iceberg&mdash;"I am not Miss Lawrence."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I&mdash;I beg your pardon," he answered, somewhat confusedly.  "You
+resemble her; I expected to meet her here.  Will you please tell her I
+enquired for her?  Here's my card!"  Therewith he thrust both hands
+into his vest pockets, extracted a card from one of them, and laid it
+hastily upon the rock beside her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Bertha!  Bertha!" rang through the glen, above the roar of the
+waterfall.  The remainder of the party which the young lady had
+preceded now came into view descending toward her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Good-day, Miss Lawrence!" said Mr. Bartlett, again lifting his hat,
+and retracing his steps.  For his life he could not have passed her and
+run the gauntlet of the faces of her friends upon the narrow path.
+Every soul of them would have instantly seen what a fool he was.
+Moreover, he had achieved enough for one day.  The soldier who storms a
+perilous breach and finds himself alive on the inside of it could not
+be more astonished than he.  "I blundered awfully," he thought; "but,
+after all, it's the one way to learn."&mdash;"Who's your friend, Bertha?"
+asked her brother, Dick Morris, the avant-guard of the party.  "I never
+saw the fellow before."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"If you had not frightened him by your sudden appearance," said she,
+"you might have discovered.  A Southerner, I suppose, though he don't
+look like one.  He addressed me as Miss Lawrence, of South Carolina,
+and afterwards left me his card, to be given to her.  What shall I do
+with it?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ha! the card will tell us who he is," said Dick, picking it up.  He
+instantly burst into a roar of laughter.  "Ha! ha!  This comes of
+wearing a Bloomer, Bertha!  Though I must say it's by no means
+complimentary to your little feet.  Who'd suspect <I>you</I> of having
+corns?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Dick, what <I>do</I> you mean?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ha! ha! no doubt I came at the nick of time to prevent him from
+pulling off your shoes."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"DICK!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Therewith she impatiently jerked the card from her brother's hand.  It
+was large, thick, handsomely glazed, and contained the following
+inscription:
+</P>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+PROFESSOR HURLBUT,<BR>
+Chiropodist<BR>
+To her Majesty Queen Victoria, and the<BR>
+Nobility of Great Britain.<BR>
+</H4>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"Incredible!" she exclaimed.  "So young, and embarrassed in his
+manners; how could he ever have taken hold of the Queen's foot?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Embarrassed indeed!" said Dick.  "I think he has a very cool way of
+procuring patients.  But, faith, he's chosen a romantic operating-room.
+After climbing down these rocks the corns naturally begin to twinge,
+and here's the Professor on hand.  Behold the march of civilization!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Bertha did not fall into her brother's vein of badinage, as usual.  She
+was vexed that the fresh, manly face and blue eyes into which she had
+looked belonged to a charlatan, and vexed at herself for being vexed
+thereat.  It was not so easy, however, to dismiss Professor Hurlbut
+from her mind, for Dick had related the incident to the others of the
+party, with his own embellishments, and numberless were the jokes to
+which it gave rise throughout the day.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Meantime Mr. Bartlett, in happy ignorance of the worst blunder he had
+ever made, returned to the hotel.  The day previous, at Utica, he had
+been annoyed by an itinerant extractor of corns, suppressor of bunions,
+and regulator of irregular nails, whose proffered card he had put into
+his pocket in order to get rid of the man.  It was this card which he
+had presented to Miss Morris as his own.  On reaching the hotel he
+easily ascertained her real name and place of residence, with the
+additional fact that the party were to leave for Saratoga on the
+morrow.  It occurred to him also that Saratoga, in the height of the
+season, would be well worth a visit.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In the evening he again happened to meet the lady on the stairs.  He
+retreated into a corner of the landing, to make room for her ample
+skirts, and, catching a glance of curious interest for her hazel eyes,
+ventured to say: "Good-evening, Miss Law-ris!" suddenly correcting her
+name in the middle.  Bertha, in spite of the womanly dignity which she
+could very well summon to her aid, could not suppress a fragment of gay
+laughter, in which the supposed Professor joined.  A slight inclination
+of the lovely head acknowledged his salutation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The next morning Miss Bertha Morris left, with her party, for Saratoga;
+and after allowing a day to intervene, in order to avoid the appearance
+of design, Mr. Henry Bartlett followed.  He did not admit to himself in
+the least that this movement was prompted by love; but he was aware of
+an intense desire to make her acquaintance.  The earnestness which this
+desire infused into his nature gave him courage; the man within him was
+beginning to wake and stir; and a boyhood of character, prolonged
+beyond the usual date, was dropping rapidly into the irrecoverable
+conditions of the past.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It chanced that they both took quarters in the same hotel; and great
+was Bertha's astonishment; on her first morning visit to the Congress
+Spring, to find Professor Hurlbut quietly quaffing his third glass.  He
+looked so much like a gentleman; he was really so fresh and rosy, so
+genuinely masculine in comparison with the blasé youths she was
+accustomed to see, that, forgetting his occupation, she acknowledged
+his bow with a cordiality which provoked herself the moment afterward.
+Mr. Bartlett was so much encouraged by this recognition that he
+ventured to walk beside her on their return to the hotel.  She, having
+in the impulsive frankness and forgetfulness of her nature returned his
+greeting, felt bound to suffer the temporary companionship,
+embarrassing though it was.  Fortunately none of her friends were in
+sight, nor was it probable that they knew the chiropodist in any case.
+She would be rid of him at the hotel door, and would take good care to
+avoid him in the future.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How delightful it is here!" said Mr. Bartlett, thinking more of his
+present position than of Saratoga in general.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+An inclination of the head was her only reply.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"This is my first visit," he added; "and I can not conceive of a summer
+society gayer or more inspiring."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I have no doubt you will find it a very favorable place for your
+business," said Bertha, maliciously recalling him to his occupation, as
+she thought.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, I hope so!" exclaimed the innocent Bartlett.  For was not his only
+business in Saratoga the endeavour to make her acquaintance?  And was
+he not already in a fair way to be successful?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Disgusting!" thought Bertha, as she suddenly turned and sprang up the
+steps in front of the ladies' drawing-room.  "He thinks of nothing but
+his horrid corn-plaster, or whatever it is!  I really believe he
+suspects that I need his services.  That such a man should be so brazen
+a charlatan&mdash;it is monstrous!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Such thoughts were not an auspicious commencement for the day, and
+Bertha's friends remarked that she was not in her sunniest mood.  She
+was very careful, however, not to speak of her meeting with the
+chiropodist; there would have been no end to her brother's banter.  She
+was also vexed that she could not forget his honest blue eyes, and the
+full, splendid curves of his mouth.  Indignation, she supposed, was her
+predominant emotion; but, in reality, there was a strong under-feeling
+of admiration, had she been aware of it.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After dinner Mr. Bartlett, occupying the post of observation at his
+window (room No. 1346, seventh story), saw the Morris party&mdash;Bertha
+among them&mdash;enter a carriage and drive away in the direction of the
+Lake.  Half an hour later, properly attired, he mounted a handsome roan
+at the door of a livery-stable, and set off in the same direction.  He
+was an accomplished rider, his legs being somewhat shorter than was
+required by due proportion, owing to which circumstance he appeared
+taller on horseback than afoot.  Like all horsemen, he was thoroughly
+self-possessed when in the saddle; and could he but have ridden into
+drawing-rooms and dining-rooms, would have felt no trace of his
+customary timidity.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Bertha noticed his figure afar off, approaching the carriage on a rapid
+trot, but made no remark.  Dick, who had a quick eye for good points
+both in man and beast, exclaimed, "By Jove! there's a fine pair of
+them!  Look at the action of that roan!  See how the fellow rises at
+the right moment without leaving his saddle! no jumping or bumping
+there!"  Mr. Bartlett came on at a staving pace, lifting his hat to the
+ladies with perfect grace as he passed.  He would have blushed could he
+have felt a single ripple of the wave of admiration which flowed after
+him.  Bertha alone was silent, more than ever provoked and disgusted
+that such a gallant outward embodiment of manhood should be connected
+with such disagreeable associations!  Had he been any thing but a
+chiropodist!  A singular feeling of shame, for his sake, prevented her
+from betraying his personality to her friends; and it came to pass that
+they innocently defended the very charlatan whom they had so ridiculed
+in the glen at Trenton from her half-disparaging observations.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+After all, she thought, the man may be honest in his profession, which
+he may look upon as simply that of a physician.  A pain in the toe is
+probably as troublesome as a pain in the head; and why should not one
+be cured as well as the other?  A dentist, I am sure, is a very
+respectable person; and, for my part, I would as soon operate on a
+corny toe as a carious tooth.  [I would not have you suppose, ladies,
+that Miss Morris made use of such horrid expressions in her
+conversation: I am only putting her thoughts into my own words.]
+Still, the conclusion to which she invariably arrived was, "I wish he
+were any thing else!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That evening there was a hop at the hotel.  The Morrises were
+enthusiastic dancers&mdash;even the widow, Bertha's mother, not disdaining a
+quadrille.  Mr. Bartlett, in an elegant evening dress, his eyes
+sparkling with new light, was there also.  In the course of the day he
+had encountered a Boston cousin, Miss Jane Heath, a tall, dashing girl,
+some two or three years older than himself.  She was one of the few
+women with whom he felt entirely at ease.  There was an honest,
+cousinly affection between them; and he always felt relieved, in
+society, when supported by her presence.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Now, Harry," said Jane, as they entered the room, "remember, the first
+schottisch belongs to me.  After that, I'll prove my disinterestedness
+by finding you partners."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As he led her upon the floor his eyes dropped in encountering those of
+Bertha Morris, whose floating tulle was just settling itself to rest as
+she whirled out of the ranks.  Poor Bertha! had she been alone she
+could have cried.  He danced as well as he rode&mdash;the splendid, mean
+fellow! the handsome, horrid&mdash;chiropodist!  Well, it was all outward
+varnish, no doubt.  If it was true that he had relieved the nobility of
+Great Britain of their corns, he must have acquired something of the
+elegances of their society.  But such ease and grace in dancing could
+not be picked up by mere imitation&mdash;it was a born gift.  Even her
+brother Dick, who was looked upon as the highest result of fashionable
+education in such matters, was not surer or lighter of foot.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+An hour later Bertha, who had withdrawn from the dancers and was
+refreshing herself with the mild night air at an open window, found
+herself temporarily separated from her friends.  Mr. Bartlett had
+evidently been watching for such an opportunity, for he presently
+disengaged himself from the crowd and approached her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You are fond of dancing, Miss Morris?" said he.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ye-es," she answered, hesitatingly, divided between her determination
+to repel his effrontery and her inability to do so.  She turned partly
+away, and gazed steadily into the moonshine.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mr. Bartlett, however, was not to be discouraged.  "Still, even the
+most agreeable exercise will fatigue at last," he remarked.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh," said Bertha, rather sharply, suspecting a professional meaning in
+his words, "my feet are perfectly sound, I assure you, Sir!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It is not to be denied that he was a little surprised at the
+earnestness of an assertion which, in a playful tone, would not have
+seemed out of place.  "I think you proved that at Trenton Falls," he
+rejoined; "but will you grant me the pleasure of another test during
+the next quadrille?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"No further test is necessary, Sir.  I presume you have patients enough
+already!"  And having uttered these words as coolly as her indignation
+allowed, Bertha moved away from the window.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Patience?" said Mr. Bartlett to himself, wholly misapprehending her
+meaning; "yes, I shall have patience while there is a chance to hope.
+But why did she speak of patience?  Women, I have heard, are natural
+diplomatists, and have a thousand indirect ways of saying things which
+they do not wish to speak outright.  Could she mean to test the
+sincerity of my wish to know her.  It is not to be expected that a
+stranger, so awkwardly introduced, should be received without
+hesitation&mdash;mistrust, perhaps.  No, no, I must persevere; she would
+despise me if I did not understand her meaning."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The following days were cold and rainy.  There was an end of the gay
+out-door life which offered him so many chances of meeting Miss Morris,
+and the fleeting glimpses he caught of her in the great dining-hall or
+the passage leading to the ladies' parlor were simply tantalizing.  I
+have no doubt there was a mute appeal in his eyes which must have
+troubled the young lady's conscience; for she avoided meeting his gaze.
+The knowledge of his presence made her uneasy; there was an atmosphere
+about the hotel which she would willingly have escaped.  She walked
+with the consciousness of an eye every where following her, and, in
+spite of herself, furtively sought for it.  We, who are aware of her
+mystification, may be amused at it; but imagine yourselves in the same
+situation, ladies, and you will appreciate its horrors!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+No, this was not longer to be endured, and so, after five or six days
+at Saratoga, the party suddenly left for Niagara.  Bertha, an only
+daughter, was a petted child, and might have had her own way much
+oftener than was really the case.  The principal use she made of her
+privilege was to follow the bent of a remarkably free, joyous, and
+confiding nature.  She was just unconventional enough to preserve an
+individuality, and thereby distinguish herself from thousands of girls
+who seem to have been cut out by a single pattern.  The sphere within
+which true womanhood moves is much wider than most women suspect.  To
+the frank, honest, and pure nature, what are called "the bounds of
+propriety" are its natural horizon-ring, moving with it, and inclosing
+it every where without restraining its freedom.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+We shall not be surprised to find that shortly after Miss Morris's
+departure Room No. 1346 in the Catanational Hotel had another tenant.
+Mr. Bartlett followed, as a matter of course.  He began nevertheless,
+to feel very much like a fool, and&mdash;as he afterward confessed&mdash;spent
+most of the time between Utica and the Suspension Bridge in
+deliberating whether he should seek or avoid an interview.  As if such
+discussions with one's self ever amounted to any thing!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Ascertaining the lady's presence, he decided to devote his first day to
+Niagara, trusting the rest to chance.  In fact, he could not have done
+a more sensible thing, for there is a Special Chance appointed for such
+cases.  The forenoon was not over before he experienced its operations.
+Bertha, cloaked and cowled in India-rubber, stood on the hurricane deck
+of the "Maid of the Mist," as the venturesome little steamer approached
+the corner of the Horse-Shoe Fall.  Looking up through blinding spray
+at the shimmer of emerald and dazzling silver against the sky, she
+crept near a broad-shouldered figure to shelter herself from the stormy
+gusts of the Fall.  Suddenly the boat wheeled, at the very edge of the
+tremendous sheet, and swirled away from the vortex with a heave which
+threw her off her feet.  She did not fall, however; for strong arms
+caught her waist and steadied her until the motion subsided.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Through the rush of the spray and the roar of the Fall she indistinctly
+heard a voice apologizing for the unceremonious way in which the arms
+had seized her.  She did not speak&mdash;-fearful, in fact, of having her
+mouth filled with water&mdash;but frankly gave the gentleman her hand.  The
+monkish figure bowed low over the wet fingers, and respectfully
+withdrew.  As the mist cleared away she encountered familiar eyes.  Was
+it possible?  The Chiropodist!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+This discovery gave Bertha no little uneasiness.  A subtle instinct
+told her that he had followed on her account, in spite of her cornless
+feet.  Perhaps he had left a lucrative practice at Saratoga&mdash;and why?
+There was but one answer to the question, and she blushed painfully as
+she admitted its possibility.  What was to be done?  She would tell her
+brother; but no&mdash;young men are so rash and violent.  Avoid him?  That
+was difficult and embarrassing.  Ignore him?  Yes, as much as possible,
+and, if necessary, frankly tell him that she could not accept his
+acquaintance.  On the whole, this course seemed best, though an
+involuntary sympathy with her victim made her wish that it were all
+over.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+In the afternoon Mrs. Morris, as usual, took her summer siesta; Dick
+had found a friend, and was whirling somewhere behind a pair of fast
+horses; and, finally, Bertha, bored by the society in the ladies'
+parlor, took her hat and a book and walked over to Goat Island.  She
+made the circuit of its forests and flashing water views, and finally
+selected a shady seat on its western side, whence she could look out on
+the foamy stairs of the Rapids.  The unnecessary book lay in her lap; a
+more wonderful book than any printed volume lay open before her.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Who shall dare to interpret the day-dream of a maiden?  Soothed by the
+mellow roar of the waters, fascinated by the momentary leaps of spray
+from the fluted, shell-shaped hollows of the descending waves, and
+freshened by the wind that blew from the cool Canadian shore, she
+nursed her wild weeds of fancy till they blossomed into brighter than
+garden-flowers.  Meanwhile a thunder-cloud rose, dark and swift, in the
+west.  The menaces of its coming were unheard, and Bertha was first
+recalled to consciousness by the sudden blast of cold wind that
+precedes the ram.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+When she looked up, the gray depth of storm already arched high over
+the Canadian woods, and big drops began to rap on the shingly bank
+below her.  A little further down was a summer-house&mdash;open to the west,
+it is true, but it offered the only chance of shelter within view.  She
+had barely reached it before a heavy peal of thunder shattered the
+bolts of the rain, and it rushed down in an overwhelming flood.
+Mounted on the bench and crouched in the least exposed corner, she was
+endeavoring, with but partial success, to shelter herself from the
+driving flood, when a man, coming from the opposite end of the island,
+rushed up at full speed.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Here," he panted, "Miss Morris, take this umbrella!  I saw you at a
+distance, and made haste to reach you.  I hope you're not wet."  The
+spacious umbrella was instantly clapped over her, and the inevitable
+Chiropodist placed himself in front to steady it, fully exposed to the
+rain.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Bertha was not proof against this gallant self-sacrifice.  In the
+surprise of the storm&mdash;the roar of which, mingled with that of the
+Fall, made a continuous awful peal&mdash;the companionship of any human
+being was a relief, and she felt grateful for Professor Hurlbut's
+arrival.  Chiropodist though he was, he must not suffer for her sake.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Here!" said she, lifting the umbrella, "it will shelter us both.
+Quick!  I insist upon it:" seeing that he hesitated.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+There was really no time for parley, for every drop pierced him to the
+skin, and the next moment found him planted before her, interposing a
+double shield.  His tender anxiety for her sake quite softened Bertha.
+How ungrateful she had been!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"This is the second time I am obliged to you to-day, Sir," said she.
+"I am sorry that I have unintentionally given you trouble."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Oh, Miss Morris," cried the delighted Bartlett, "don't mention it!
+It's nothing; I am quite amphibious, you know."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"You might be now in a place of shelter but for me," she answered,
+penitently.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I'd rather be here than any where else!" he exclaimed, in a burst of
+candor which quite overleaped the barrier of self-possession and came
+down on the other side.  "If you would allow me to be your friend, Miss
+Morris&mdash;if you would permit me to&mdash;to speak with you now and then;
+if&mdash;if&mdash;"  Here he paused, not knowing precisely what more to say, yet
+feeling that he had already said enough to make his meaning clear.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Bertha was cruelly embarrassed, but only for a moment.  Professor
+Hurlbut had at least been frank and honest in his avowal&mdash;she felt his
+sincerity through and through&mdash;and he deserved equal honesty at her
+hands.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"I am your debtor," said she, in an uncertain voice; "and you have a
+right to expect gratitude, at least, from me.  I can not, therefore,
+refuse your acquaintance, though, as you know, your&mdash;your occupation
+would be considered objectionable by many persons."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"My occupation!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Your profession, then.  I must candidly confess that I have a
+prejudice&mdash;a foolish one, perhaps, against it."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"My profession!" cried the astonished Bartlett; "why, I have none!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well&mdash;it <I>is</I> scarcely to be called a 'profession,' but it is always
+liable to the charge of charlatanism: pardon me the word.  And it may
+be ridiculed in so many ways.  I wish, for your sake&mdash;for I believe you
+to be capable of better things&mdash;that you would adopt some other
+business."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mr. Bartlett's amazement was now beyond all bounds, "Good Heavens!" he
+exclaimed, "Miss Morris, what do you mean?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Starting up from the bench as he uttered these words he jostled
+Bertha's book from her hand.  The leaves parted in falling, and a large
+card, escaping from between them, fluttered down upon the floor.  He
+picked it up and restored it to her, with the book.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"There!" she answered, giving the card back again, "there is what I
+mean!  Must I give you your own card in order to acquaint you with your
+own business?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Mr. Bartlett looked at it for a second in blank amazement; then, like a
+flash of lightning, the whole course of the misunderstanding flashed
+across his mind.  He burst&mdash;I am ashamed to say&mdash;into a tremendous
+paroxysm of mingled tears and laughter: were he not so strong and
+masculine a man, I should say, "hysterics."  In vain he struggled to
+find words.  At every attempt a fresh convulsion of laughter seized
+him, and tears, mingled with rain, flowed down his cheeks.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Bertha began to be alarmed at this strange and unexpected convulsion.
+"Professor Hurlbut!" said she, "what is the matter?"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Professor Hurlbut!" he repeated, in a faint, scarcely audible scream;
+then, striving to suppress his uncontrollable fit of delight and
+comical surprise, he sank upon the bench at her feet, shaking from head
+to foot with the effort.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"A-a-ah!" he at last panted forth, as if heaving an atlas-load from his
+heart, and stood erect before her.  With his face still flushed and
+eyes sparkling he was as handsome an embodiment of youth and life as
+one could wish to see.  In two words he explained to her the mistake,
+on learning which Bertha blushed deeply, saying: "How could I ever have
+supposed it!"  And then, reflecting upon the inferences which could be
+drawn from such an expression, became suddenly shy and silent.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Of course she accepted Mr. Bartlett's escort to the hotel when the rain
+was over, and he was presented to the agonised mother, who hailed him
+as a deliverer of her daughter from untold dangers, and privately
+remarked, afterward, to the latter: "Upon my word, a very nice young
+man, my dear!" Dick's commendation was no less emphatic though
+differently expressed: "A good fellow! well made in the shoulders and
+flanks: fine action, but wants a little training!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+By this time, ladies, you have probably guessed the conclusion.  My
+story would neither be agreeable nor true (I am relating facts) if they
+were not married, and did not have two children, and live happy ever
+after.  Married they were, in the course of time, and happy they also
+are, for I visit them now and then.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+One thing I had nearly forgotten.  When Mrs. Bartlett chooses to tease
+her husband in that playful way so delightful to married lovers, she
+invariably calls him "Professor Hurlbut," while he retorts with "Miss
+Lawrence, of South Carolina."  Moreover, in Mrs. B.'s confidential
+little boudoir, over her work-stand, hangs a neatly-framed card,
+whereon you may read:
+</P>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+PROFESSOR HURLBUT,<BR>
+Chiropodist<BR>
+To her Majesty Queen Victoria, and the<BR>
+Nobility of Great Britain.<BR>
+</H4>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap21"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+"MR. DOOLEY ON CORPORAL PUNISHMENT"
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+By F. P. DUNNE
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="intro">
+Copyright 1907 by H. H. McClure &amp; Co.
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+"Well, sir," said Mr. Dooley, "I see that some school-teachers down
+East have been petitioning to be allowed to slug th' young."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"How's that?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Well," said Mr. Dooley "they say they can't do anything with these
+tender little growths onless they use a club.  They want the boord iv
+iddycation to restore what's called corporal punishment&mdash;that is th'
+fun iv lickin' some wan that can't fight back.  Says wan iv thim: 'Th'
+little wans undher our care are far fr'm bein' th' small angels that
+they look.  As a matther iv fact they are rebellyous monsthers that
+must be suppressed be vigorous an',' says he, 'stern measures.  Is it
+right,' says he, 'that us school masthers shud daily risk our lives at
+th' hands iv these feerocious an' tigerish inimies iv human s'ciety
+without havin' a chance to pound thim?  Yisterdah a goolden haired imp
+iv perdition placed a tack in me chair.  To-day I found a dead rat in
+the desk.  At times they write opprobyous epithets about me on th'
+blackboard; at other times crood but pinted carrycachures.  Nawthin'
+will conthrol thim.  They hurl the murdherous spitball.  They pull th'
+braid iv th' little girl.  They fire baseballs through th' windows.
+Sometimes lumps iv chewin' gum are found undher their desks where they
+have stuck thim f'r further use.  They shuffle their feet whin I'm
+narvous.  They look around thim when they think I'm not lookin'.  They
+pass notes grossly insultin' each other.  Moral suasion does no good.
+I have thried writin' to their parents askin' thim to cripple their
+offspring, an' th' parents have come over an' offered to fight me.
+I've thried keepin' thim afther school, makin' thim write compositions
+an' shakin' th' milk teeth out iv thim, but to no avail.  Me opinyon is
+that th' av'rage small boy is a threecherous, dangerous crather like
+th' Apachy Indyan' an' that th' on'y thing to do with him is to slam
+him with a wagon spoke,' says he.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"An th' boord iv iddycation is discussin' th' petition.  It can't quite
+make up its mind whether Solomon wasn't right.  Solomon said, accordin'
+to Hogan, spile th' rod an' save th' child.  He must've had a large
+famly if he was annywhere near Tiddy Rosenfelt's law iv av'rages.  I
+don't see how he cud've spared time f'r writin' from correctin' his
+fam'ly.  He must've set up nights.  Annyhow, th' boord iv iddycation is
+discussin' whether he was right or not.  I don't know mys'lf.  All I
+know is that if I was a life insurance canvasser or a coal dealer or
+something else that made me illegible to be a mimber iv a boord iv
+iddycation, an' an able-bodied man six feet tall come to me f'r
+permission to whale a boy three feet tall, I'd say: 'I don't know
+whether ye are compitint.  Punishing people requires special thrainin'.
+It ain't iv'rybody that's suited f'r th' job.  Ye might bungle it.
+Just take off ye'er coat an' vest an' step into th' next room an' be
+examined.'  An' in th' next room th' ambitious iddycator wud find James
+J. Jeffreys or some other akely efficient expert ready f'r him an' if
+he come back alive he'd have a certy-ficate entitlin' him to whack anny
+little boy he met&mdash;except mine.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Sure there'd be very few people to say they believed in corporal
+punishment if corporal punishment was gin'ral.  I wudden't give anny
+wan th' right to lick a child that wanted to lick a child.  No wan shud
+be licked till he's too old to take a licking.  If it's right to larrup
+an infant iv eight, why ain't it right to larrup wan iv eighteen?
+Supposin' Prisidint Hadley iv Yale see that th' left tackle or th' half
+back iv th' football team wasn't behavin' right.  He'd been caught
+blowin' a pea shooter at th' pro-fissor iv iliminthry chemisthry, or
+pullin' th' dure bell iv th' pro-fissor iv dogmatic theosophy.  He
+don't know any different.  He's not supposed to ralize th' distinction
+between right an' wrong yet.  Does Prisidint Hadley grab th' child be
+th' ear an' conduct him to a corner iv th' schoolroom an wallup him?
+Ye bet he does not.  Prisidint Hadley may be a bold man in raisin'
+money or thranslatin' Homer, but he knows th' diff'rence between
+courage and sheer recklessness.  If he thried to convince this young
+idea how to shoot in this careless way ye'd read in the pa-apers that
+th' fire department was thryin' to rescue Prisidint Hadley fr'm th'
+roof iv th' buildin' but he declined to come down.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"But what wud ye do with a child that refused to obey ye?" demanded Mr.
+Hennessy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Not bein' ayther a parent or an iddycator I nivir had such a child,"
+said Mr. Dooley.  "I don't know what I'd do if I was.  Th' on'y thing I
+wudden't do wud be to hit him if he cudden't hit back, an' thin I'd
+think twice about it.  Th' older I grow th' more things there are I
+know I don't know annything about.  An' wan iv thim is childher.  I
+can't figure thim out at all.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"What d'ye know about thim little wans that ye have so carefully reared
+be lavin' thim in th' mornin' befure they got up an' losin' ye'er
+temper with at night whin ye come home fr'm wurruk?  They don't know ye
+an' ye don't know thim.  Ye'll niver know till 'tis too late.  I've
+often wondhered what a little boy thinks about us that call oursilves
+grown up because we can't grow anny more.  We wake him up in th'
+mornin' whin he wants to sleep.  We make him wash his face whin he
+knows it don't need washin' thin as much as it will later an' we sind
+him back to comb his hair in a way he don't approve iv at all.  We fire
+him off to school just about th' time iv day whin anny wan ought to be
+out iv dures.  He trudges off to a brick buildin' an' a tired teacher
+tells him a lot iv things he hasn't anny inthrest in at all, like how
+manny times sivin goes into a hundhred an' nine an' who was King iv
+England in thirteen twinty-two an' where is Kazabazoo on the map.  He
+has to set there most iv th' pleasant part iv th' day with sixty other
+kids an' ivry time be thries to do annything that seems right to him
+like jabbin' a frind with a pin or carvin' his name on the desk, th'
+sthrange lady or gintleman that acts as his keeper swoops down on him
+an' makes him feel like a criminal.  To'rds evenin' if he's been good
+an' repressed all his nacharal instincts he's allowed to go home an'
+chop some wood.  Whin he's done that an' has just managed to get a few
+iv his frinds together an' they're beginnin' to get up interest in th'
+spoort iv throwin' bricks down into a Chinese laundhry his little
+sister comes out an' tells him he's wanted at home.  He instinctively
+pulls her hair an' goes in to study his lessons so that he'll be able
+to-morrow to answer some ridiklous questions that are goin' to be asked
+him.  Afther a while ye come home an' greet him with ye'er usual glare
+an' ye have supper together.  Ye do most iv th' talkin', which ain't
+much.  If he thries to cut in with somethin' that intelligent people
+ought to talk about ye stop him with a frown.  Afther supper he's
+allowed to study some more, an' whin he's finished just as th' night
+begins to look good he's fired off to bed an' th' light is taken away
+fr'm him an' he sees ghosts an' hobgoberlins in th' dark an' th' next
+he knows he's hauled out iv bed an' made to wash his face again.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"An' so it goes.  If he don't do anny iv these things or if he doesn't
+do thim th' way ye think is th' right way some wan hits him or wants
+to.  Talk about happy childhood.  How wud ye like to have twinty or
+thirty people issuin' foolish ordhers to ye, makin' ye do things ye
+didn't want to do, an' niver undherstandin' at all why it was so?  Tis
+like livin' on this earth an' bein' ruled by the inhabitants iv Mars.
+He has his wurruld, ye can bet on that, an' 'tis a mighty important
+wurruld.  Who knows why a kid wud rather ate potatoes cooked nice an'
+black on a fire made of sthraw an' old boots thin th' delicious oatmeal
+so carefully an' so often prepared f'r him be his kind parents?  Who
+knows why he thinks a dark hole undher a sidewalk is a robbers' cave?
+Who knows why he likes to collect in wan pocket a ball iv twine, glass
+marbles, chewin' gum, a dead sparrow an' half a lemon?  Who knows what
+his seasons are?  They are not mine, an' they're not ye'ers, but he
+goes as reg'lar fr'm top time to marble time an' fr'm marble time to
+kite time as we go fr'm summer to autumn an' autumn to winter.  To-day
+he's thryin' to annihilate another boy's stick top with his; to-morrow
+he's thrying to sail a kite out iv a tillygraft wire.  Who knows why he
+does it?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Faith we know nawthin' about him an' he knows nawthin' about us.  I
+can raymimber whin I was a little boy but I can't raymimber how I was a
+little boy.  I call back 's though it was yisterdah th' things I did,
+but why I did thim I don't know.  Faith, if I cud look for'ard to th'
+things I've done I cud no more aisily explain why I was goin' to do
+thim.  Maybe we're both wrong in the way we look at each other&mdash;us an'
+th' childher.  We think we've grown up an' they don't guess that we're
+childher.  If they knew us betther they'd not be so surprised at our
+actions an' wudden't foorce us to hit thim.  Whin ye issued some
+foolish ordher to ye'er little boy he'd say: 'Pah-pah is fractious
+to-day.  Don't ye think he ought to have some castor ile?'"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's a wise child that knows his own father," said Mr. Hennessy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"It's a happy child that doesn't," said Mr. Dooley.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap22"></A>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+OVER A WOOD FIRE
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+DONALD G. MITCHELL
+</H4>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+I have got a quiet farmhouse in the country, a very humble place, to be
+sure, tenanted by a worthy enough man of the old New England stamp,
+where I sometimes go for a day or two in the winter, to look over the
+farm accounts and to see how the stock is thriving on the winter's keep.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+One side the door, as you enter from the porch, is a little parlor,
+scarce twelve feet by ten, with a cozy-looking fireplace, a heavy oak
+floor, a couple of armchairs, and a brown table with carved lions'
+feet.  Out of this room opens a little cabinet, only big enough for a
+broad bachelor bedstead, where I sleep upon feathers, and wake in the
+morning with my eye upon a saucy colored lithographic print of some
+fancy "Bessy."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+It happens to be the only house in the world of which I am <I>bona fide</I>
+owner, and I take a vast deal of comfort in treating it just as I
+choose.  I manage to break some article of furniture almost every time
+I pay it a visit; and if I cannot open the window readily of a morning,
+to breathe the fresh air, I knock out a pane or two of glass with my
+boot.  I lean against the walls in a very old armchair there is on the
+premises, and scarce ever fail to worry such a hole in the plastering
+as would set me down for a round charge for damages in town, or make a
+prim housewife fret herself into a raging fever.  I laugh out loud with
+myself, in my big armchair, when I think that I am neither afraid of
+one nor the other.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As for the fire, I keep the little hearth so hot as to warm half the
+cellar below, and the whole space between the jams roars for two hours
+together with white flame.  To be sure, the windows are not very tight,
+between broken panes and bad joints, so that the fire, large as it is,
+is by no means an extravagant comfort.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+As night approaches, I have a huge pile of oak and hickory placed
+beside the hearth; I put out the tallow candle on the mantel (using the
+family snuffers, with one leg broken), then, drawing my chair directly
+in front of the blazing wood, and setting one foot on each of the old
+iron fire-dogs (until they grow too warm), I dispose myself for an
+evening of such sober and thoughtful quietude as I believe, on my soul,
+that very few of my fellow men have the good fortune to enjoy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+My tenant, meantime, in the other room, I can hear now and then&mdash;though
+there is a thick stone chimney, and broad entry between&mdash;multiplying
+contrivances with his wife to put two babies to sleep.  This occupies
+them, I should say, usually an hour, though my only measure of time
+(for I never carry a watch into the country) is the blaze of my fire.
+By ten, or thereabouts, my stock of wood is nearly exhausted; I pile
+upon the hot coals what remains, and sit watching how it kindles, and
+blazes, and goes out&mdash;-even like our joys&mdash;and then slip by the light
+of the embers into my bed, where I luxuriate in such sound and
+healthful slumber as only such rattling window-frames and country air
+can supply.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But to return: the other evening&mdash;it happened to be on my last visit to
+my farmhouse&mdash;when I had exhausted all the ordinary rural topics of
+thought, had formed all sorts of conjectures as to the income of the
+year; had planned a new wall around one lot, and the clearing up of
+another, now covered with patriarchal wood; and wondered if the little
+rickety house would not be after all a snug enough box to live and to
+die in&mdash;I fell on a sudden into such an unprecedented line of thought,
+which took such deep hold of my sympathies&mdash;sometimes even starting
+tears&mdash;that I determined, the next day, to set as much of it as I could
+recall on paper.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Something&mdash;it may have been the home-looking blaze (I am a bachelor of,
+say, six-and-twenty), or possibly a plaintive cry of the baby in my
+tenant's room, had suggested to me the thought of&mdash;marriage.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I piled upon the heated fire-dogs the last armful of my wood; "and
+now," said I, bracing myself courageously between the arms of my chair,
+"I'll not flinch; I'll pursue the thought wherever it leads, though it
+leads me to the d&mdash;(I am apt to be hasty)&mdash;at least," continued I,
+softening, "until my fire is out."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The wood was green, and at first showed no disposition to blaze.  It
+smoked furiously.  Smoke, thought I, always goes before blaze; and so
+does doubt go before decision: and my reverie, from that very
+starting-point, slipped into this shape:
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="noindent" ALIGN="center">
+I.  SMOKE&mdash;SIGNIFYING DOUBT<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<P>
+A wife? thought I.  Yes, a wife.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And why?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+And pray, my dear sir, why not&mdash;why?  Why not doubt? why not hesitate;
+why not tremble?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Does a man buy a ticket in a lottery&mdash;a poor man whose whole earnings
+go in to secure the ticket&mdash;without trembling, hesitating, and doubting?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Can a man stake his bachelor respectability, his independence, and
+comfort, upon the die of absorbing, unchanging, relentless marriage,
+without trembling at the venture?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Shall a man who has been free to chase his fancies over the wide world,
+without let or hindrance, shut himself up to marriage-ship, within four
+walls called home, that are to claim him, his time, his trouble, and
+his tears, thenceforward forevermore, without doubts thick, and
+thick-coming as smoke?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Shall he who has been hitherto a mere observer of other men's cares and
+business&mdash;moving off where they made him sick of heart, approaching
+whenever and wherever they made him gleeful&mdash;shall he now undertake
+administration of just such cares and business, without qualms?  Shall
+he, whose whole life has been but a nimble succession of escapes from
+trifling difficulties, now broach without doubtings&mdash;that matrimony,
+where if difficulty beset him there is no escape?  Shall this brain of
+mine, careless-working, never tired with idleness, feeding on long
+vagaries and high, gigantic castles, dreaming out beatitudes hour by
+hour&mdash;turn itself at length to such dull task-work as thinking out a
+livelihood for wife and children?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Where thenceforward will be those sunny dreams, in which I have warmed
+my fancies, and my heart, and lighted my eye with crystal?  This very
+marriage, which a brilliant working imagination has invested time and
+again with brightness and delight, can serve no longer as a mine for
+teeming fancy.  All, alas! will be gone&mdash;reduced to the dull standard
+of the actual.  No more room for intrepid forays of imagination&mdash;no
+more gorgeous realm-making.  All will be over!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Why not, I thought, go on dreaming?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Can any wife be prettier than an after-dinner fancy, idle and yet
+vivid, can paint for you?  Can any children make less noise than the
+little rosy-cheeked ones who have no existence except in the omnium
+gatherum of your own brain?  Can any housewife be more unexceptionable
+than she who goes sweeping daintily the cobwebs that gather in your
+dreams?  Can any domestic larder be better stocked than the private
+larder of your head dozing on a cushioned chair-back at Delmonico's?
+Can any family purse be better filled than the exceeding plump one you
+dream of, after reading such pleasant books as Munchausen or Typee?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But if, after all, it must be&mdash;duty, or what-not, making
+provocation&mdash;what then?  And I clapped my feet hard against the
+fire-dogs, and leaned back, and turned my face to the ceiling, as much
+as to say, And where on earth, then, shall a poor devil look for a wife?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Somebody says&mdash;Lyttleton or Shaftesbury, I think&mdash;that "marriages would
+be happier if they were all arranged by the Lord Chancellor."
+Unfortunately, we have no Lord Chancellor to make this commutation of
+our misery.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Shall a man then scour the country on a mule's back, like honest Gil
+Blas of Santillane? or shall he make application to some such
+intervening providence as Madame St. Marc, who, as I see by the Presse,
+manages these matters to one's hand, for some five per cent on the
+fortunes of the parties?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+I have trouted when the brook was so low and the sky so hot that I
+might as well have thrown my fly upon the turnpike; and I have hunted
+hare at noon, and woodcock in snowtime&mdash;never despairing, scarce
+doubting; but for a poor hunter of his kind, without traps or snares,
+or any aid of police or constabulary, to traverse the world, where are
+swarming, on a moderate computation, some three hundred and odd
+millions of unmarried women, for a single capture&mdash;irremediable,
+unchangeable&mdash;and yet a capture which by strange metonymy, not laid
+down in the books, is very apt to turn captor into captive and make
+game of hunter&mdash;all this, surely, surely may make a man shrug with
+doubt!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then, again, there are the plaguy wife's relations.  Who knows how many
+third, fourth, or fifth cousins will appear at careless complimentary
+intervals long after you had settled into the placid belief that all
+congratulatory visits were at an end?  How many twisted-headed brothers
+will be putting in their advice, as a friend to Peggy?
+</P>
+
+<P>
+How many maiden aunts will come to spend a month or two with their
+"dear Peggy," and want to know every tea-time "if she isn't a dear love
+of a wife?"  Then, dear father-in-law will beg (taking dear Peggy's
+hand in his) to give a little wholesome counsel; and will be very sure
+to advise just the contrary of what you had determined to undertake.
+And dear mamma-in-law must set her nose into Peggy's cupboard, and
+insist upon having the key to your own private locker in the wainscot.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then, perhaps, there is a little bevy of dirty-nosed nephews who come
+to spend the holidays, and eat up your East India sweetmeats; and who
+are forever tramping over your head or raising the old Harry below,
+while you are busy with your clients.  Last, and worse, is some fidgety
+old uncle, forever too cold or too hot, who vexes you with his
+patronizing airs, and impudently kisses his little Peggy!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+That could be borne, however; for perhaps he has promised his fortune
+to Peggy.  Peggy, then, will be rich (and the thought made me rub my
+shins, which were now getting comfortably warm upon the fire-dogs).
+Then she will be forever talking of <I>her</I> fortune; and pleasantly
+reminding you; on occasion of a favorite purchase, how lucky that <I>she</I>
+had the means; and dropping hints about economy; and buying very
+extravagant Paisleys.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She will annoy you by looking over the stock-list at breakfast-time,
+and mention quite carelessly to your clients that she is interested in
+<I>such</I> or such a speculation.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She will be provokingly silent when you hint to a tradesman that you
+have not the money by you for his small bill&mdash;in short, she will tear
+the life out of you, making you pay in righteous retribution of
+annoyance, grief, vexation, shame, and sickness of heart, for the
+superlative folly of "marrying rich."
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But if not rich, then poor.  Bah! the thought made me stir the coals;
+but there was still no blaze.  The paltry earnings you are able to
+wring out of clients by the sweat of your brow will now be all <I>our</I>
+income; you will be pestered for pin-money, and pestered with your poor
+wife's relations.  Ten to one, she will stickle about taste&mdash;"Sir
+Visto's"&mdash;and want to make this so pretty, and that so charming, if she
+<I>only</I> had the means; and is sure Paul (a kiss) can't deny his little
+Peggy such a trifling sum, and all for the common benefit.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Then she, for one, means that <I>her</I> children sha'n't go a-begging for
+clothes&mdash;and another pull at the purse.  Trust a poor mother to dress
+her children in finery!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Perhaps she is ugly&mdash;not noticeable at first, but growing on her, and
+(what is worse) growing faster on you.  You wonder why you didn't see
+that vulgar nose long ago; and that lip&mdash;it is very strange, you think,
+that you ever thought it pretty.  And then, to come to breakfast with
+her hair looking as it does, and you not so much as daring to say,
+"Peggy, <I>do</I> brush your hair!"  Her foot, too&mdash;not very bad when
+decently <I>chausse</I>; but now since she's married she does wear such
+infernal slippers!  And yet for all this, to be prigging up for an
+hour, when any of my old chums come to dine with me!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Bless your kind hearts, my dear fellows," said I, thrusting the tongs
+into the coals and speaking out loud, as if my voice could reach from
+Virginia to Paris, "not married yet!"
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Perhaps Peggy is pretty enough, only shrewish.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+No matter for cold coffee; you should have been up before.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+What sad, thin, poorly cooked chops, to eat with your rolls!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She thinks they are very good, and wonders how you can set such an
+example to your children.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The butter is nauseating.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She has no other, and hopes you'll not raise a storm about butter a
+little turned.  I think I see myself, ruminated I, sitting meekly at
+table, scarce daring to lift up my eyes, utterly fagged out with some
+quarrel of yesterday, choking down detestably sour muffins, that my
+wife thinks are "delicious"&mdash;slipping in dried mouthfuls of burnt ham
+off the side of my forktines&mdash;slipping off my chair sideways at the
+end, and slipping out with my hat between my knees, to business, and
+never feeling myself a competent, sound-minded man till the oak door is
+between me and Peggy.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+"Ha-ha! not yet!" said I, and in so earnest a tone that my dog started
+to his feet, cocked his eye to have a good look into my face, met my
+smile of triumph with an amiable wag of the tail, and curled up again
+in the corner.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Again, Peggy is rich enough, well enough, mild enough, only she doesn't
+care a fig for you.  She has married you because father or grandfather
+thought the match eligible, and because she didn't wish to disoblige
+them.  Besides, she didn't positively hate you, and thought you were a
+respectable enough young person; she has told you so repeatedly at
+dinner.  She wonders you like to read poetry; she wishes you would buy
+her a good cook-book; and insists upon your making your will at the
+birth of the first baby.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+She thinks Captain So-and-So a splendid-looking fellow, and wishes you
+would trim up a little, were it only for appearance' sake.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+You need not hurry up from the office so early at night, she, bless her
+dear heart! does not feel lonely.  You read to her a love tale: she
+interrupts the pathetic parts with directions to her seamstress.  You
+read of marriages: she sighs, and asks if Captain So-and-So has left
+town.  She hates to be mewed up in a cottage, or between brick walls;
+she does so love the Springs!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But, again, Peggy loves you&mdash;at least she swears it, with her hand on
+"The Sorrows of Werter."  She has pin-money which she spends for the
+"Literary World" and the "Friends in Council."  She is not bad-looking,
+save a bit too much of forehead; nor is she sluttish, unless a
+<I>negligé</I> till three o'clock, and an ink-stain on the forefinger be
+sluttish; but then she is such a sad blue!
+</P>
+
+<P>
+You never fancied, when you saw her buried in a three-volume novel,
+that it was anything more than a girlish vagary; and when she quoted
+Latin, you thought innocently that she had a capital memory for her
+samplers.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+But to be bored eternally about divine Dante and funny Goldoni is too
+bad.  Your copy of Tasso, a treasure print of 1680, is all bethumbed
+and dog's-eared, and spotted with baby gruel.  Even your Seneca&mdash;an
+Elzevir&mdash;is all sweaty with handling.  She adores La Fontaine, reads
+Balzac with a kind of artist scowl, and will not let Greek alone.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+You hint at broken rest and an aching head at breakfast, and she will
+fling you a scrap of Anthology&mdash;in lien of the camphor-bottle&mdash;or chant
+the [Greek] <I>alai alai</I> of tragic chorus.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The nurse is getting dinner; you are holding the baby; Peggy is reading
+Bruyère.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+The fire smoked thick as pitch, and puffed out little clouds over the
+chimney-piece.  I gave the fore-stick a kick; at the thought of Peggy,
+baby, and Bruyère.
+</P>
+
+<P>
+Suddenly the flame flickered bluely athwart the smoke&mdash;caught at a twig
+below&mdash;rolled round the mossy oak-stick&mdash;twined among the crackling
+tree-limbs&mdash;mounted&mdash;lit up the whole body of smoke, and blazed out
+cheerily and bright.  Doubt vanished with smoke, and hope began with
+flame.
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR><BR>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of International Short Stories, by Various
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of International Short Stories, by Various
+
+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: International Short Stories
+       American
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: William Patten
+
+Release Date: June 16, 2010 [EBook #32845]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INTERNATIONAL SHORT STORIES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Al Haines
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Frontispiece: Anna Katharine Green]
+
+
+
+
+
+INTERNATIONAL SHORT STORIES
+
+
+EDITED BY
+
+WILLIAM PATTEN
+
+
+  A NEW COLLECTION OF
+  FAMOUS EXAMPLES
+  FROM THE LITERATURES
+  OF ENGLAND, FRANCE
+  AND AMERICA
+
+
+
+AMERICAN
+
+
+
+P F COLLIER &  SON
+
+NEW YORK
+
+
+
+
+Copyright, 1910
+
+BY P. F. COLLIER & SON
+
+
+The use of the copyrighted stories in this collection has been
+authorized in each case by their authors or by their representatives.
+
+
+
+
+AMERICAN STORIES
+
+
+THE PROPHETIC PICTURES . . . . . . . . . . . .  By Nathaniel Hawthorne
+
+THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW  . . . . . . . . . .  By Washington Irving
+
+THE GOLD-BUG . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  By Edgar Allan Poe
+
+CORPORAL FLINT'S MURDER  . . . . . . . . . . . . By J. Fenimore Cooper
+  (From "The Oak Openings")
+
+UNCLE JIM AND UNCLE BILLY  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . By Bret Harte
+
+THE NOTARY OF PERIGUEUX  . . . . . . . . . . . . . By H. W. Longfellow
+
+THE WIDOW'S CRUISE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . By F. R. Stockton
+
+THE COUNT AND THE WEDDING QUEST  . . . . . . . . . . . . . By O. Henry
+
+MISS TOOKER'S WEDDING GIFT . . . . . . . . . .  By John Kendrick Bangs
+
+THE FABLE OF THE TWO MANDOLIN PLAYERS AND
+  THE WILLING PERFORMER  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . By George Ade
+
+THE FABLE OF THE PREACHER WHO FLEW HIS KITE,
+  BUT NOT BECAUSE HE WISHED TO DO SO . . . . . . . . . . By George Ade
+
+THE SHADOWS ON THE WALL  . . . . . . . . .  By Mary E. Wilkins Freeman
+
+MAJOR PERDUE'S BARGAIN . . . . . . . . . . . . By Joel Chandler Harris
+
+A KENTUCKY CINDERELLA  . . . . . . . . . . . . . By F. Hopkinson Smith
+
+BY THE WATERS OF PARADISE  . . . . . . . . . . . By F. Marion Crawford
+
+A MEMORABLE NIGHT  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . By Anna Katharine Green
+
+THE MAN FROM RED DOG . . . . . . . . . . . . . . By Alfred Henry Lewis
+
+JEAN MICHAUD'S LITTLE SHIP . . . . . . . . .  By Charles G. D. Roberts
+
+THOSE OLD LUNES! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . By W. Gilmore Simms
+
+THE CHIROPODIST  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  By Bayard Taylor
+
+"MR. DOOLEY ON CORPORAL PUNISHMENT"  . . . . . . . . .  By F. P. Dunne
+
+OVER A WOOD FIRE . . . . . . . . . . . Donald G. Mitchell--"Ik Marvel"
+
+
+
+
+THE PROPHETIC PICTURES[1]
+
+By NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE
+
+[1] This story was suggested by an anecdote of Stuart, related in
+Dunlap's "History of the Arts of Design"--a most entertaining book to
+the general reader, and a deeply interesting one, we should think, to
+the artist.
+
+
+"But this painter!" cried Walter Ludlow, with animation.  "He not only
+excels in his peculiar art, but possesses vast acquirements in all
+other learning and science.  He talks Hebrew with Dr. Mather, and gives
+lectures in anatomy to Dr. Boylston.  In a word, he will meet the best
+instructed man among us, on his own ground.  Moreover, he is a polished
+gentleman--a citizen of the world--yes, a true cosmopolite; for he will
+speak like a native of each clime and country on the globe, except our
+own forests, whither he is now going.  Nor is all this what I most
+admire in him."
+
+"Indeed!" said Elinor, who had listened with a woman's interest to the
+description of such a man.  "Yet this is admirable enough."
+
+"Surely it is," replied her lover, "but far less so than his natural
+gift of adapting himself to every variety of character, insomuch that
+all men--and all women too, Elinor--shall find a mirror of themselves
+in this wonderful painter.  But the greatest wonder is yet to be told."
+
+"Nay, if he have more wonderful attributes than these," said Elinor,
+laughing, "Boston is a perilous abode for the poor gentleman.  Are you
+telling me of a painter, or a wizard?"
+
+"In truth," answered he, "that question might be asked much more
+seriously than you suppose.  They say that he paints not merely a man's
+features, but his mind and heart.  He catches the secret sentiments and
+passions, and throws them upon the canvas, like sunshine--or perhaps,
+in the portraits of dark-souled men, like a gleam of infernal fire.  It
+is an awful gift," added Walter, lowering his voice from its tone of
+enthusiasm.  "I shall be almost afraid to sit to him."
+
+"Walter, are you in earnest?" exclaimed Elinor.
+
+"For Heaven's sake, dearest Elinor, do not let him paint the look which
+you now wear," said her lover, smiling, though rather perplexed.
+"There: it is passing away now, but when you spoke you seemed
+frightened to death, and very sad besides.  What were you thinking of?"
+
+"Nothing, nothing," answered Elinor, hastily.  "You paint my face with
+your own fantasies.  Well, come for me to-morrow, and we will visit
+this wonderful artist."
+
+But when the young man had departed, it cannot be denied that a
+remarkable expression was again visible on the fair and youthful face
+of his mistress.  It was a sad and anxious look, little in accordance
+with what should have been the feelings of a maiden on the eve of
+wedlock.  Yet Walter Ludlow was the chosen of her heart.
+
+"A look!" said Elinor to herself.  "No wonder that it startled him, if
+it expressed what I sometimes feel.  I know, by my own experience, how
+frightful a look may be.  But it was all fancy.  I thought nothing of
+it at the time--I have seen nothing of it since--I did but dream it."
+
+And she busied herself about the embroidery of a ruff, in which she
+meant that her portrait should be taken.
+
+The painter of whom they had been speaking was not one of those native
+artists who, at a later period than this, borrowed their colors from
+the Indians, and manufactured their pencils of the furs of wild beasts.
+Perhaps, if he could have revoked his life and prearranged his destiny,
+he might have chosen to belong to that school without a master, in the
+hope of being at least original, since there were no works of art to
+imitate, nor rules to follow.  But he had been born and educated in
+Europe.  People said that he had studied the grandeur or beauty of
+conception, and every touch of the master-hand, in all the most famous
+pictures, in cabinets and galleries, and on the walls of churches, till
+there was nothing more for his powerful mind to learn.  Art could add
+nothing to its lessons, but Nature might.  He had therefore visited a
+world whither none of his professional brethren had preceded him, to
+feast his eyes on visible images that were noble and picturesque, yet
+had never been transferred to canvas.  America was too poor to afford
+other temptations to an artist of eminence, though many of the colonial
+gentry, on the painter's arrival, had expressed a wish to transmit
+their lineaments to posterity by means of his skill.  Whenever such
+proposals were made, he fixed his piercing eyes on the applicant, and
+seemed to look him through and through.  If he beheld only a sleek and
+comfortable visage, though there were a gold-laced coat to adorn the
+picture, and golden guineas to pay for it, he civilly rejected the task
+and the reward.  But if the face were the index of anything uncommon,
+in thought, sentiment, or experience; or if he met a beggar in the
+street, with a white beard and a furrowed brow; or if sometimes a child
+happened to look up and smile; he would exhaust all the art on them
+that he denied to wealth.
+
+Pictorial skill being so rare in the colonies, the painter became an
+object of general curiosity.  If few or none could appreciate the
+technical merit of his productions, yet there were points in regard to
+which the opinion of the crowd was as valuable as the refined judgment
+of the amateur.  He watched the effect that each picture produced on
+such untutored beholders, and derived profit from their remarks, while
+they would as soon have thought of instructing Nature herself as him
+who seemed to rival her.  Their admiration, it must be owned, was
+tinctured with the prejudices of the age and country.  Some deemed it
+an offence against the Mosaic law, and even a presumptuous mockery of
+the Creator, to bring into existence such lively images of His
+creatures.  Others, frightened at the art which could raise phantoms at
+will, and keep the form of the dead among the living, were inclined to
+consider the painter as a magician, or perhaps the famous Black Man, of
+old witch-times, plotting mischief in a new guise.  These foolish
+fancies were more than half believed among the mob.  Even in superior
+circles, his character was invested with a vague awe, partly rising
+like smoke-wreaths from the popular superstitions, but chiefly caused
+by the varied knowledge and talents which he made subservient to his
+profession.
+
+Being on the eve of marriage, Walter Ludlow and Elinor were eager to
+obtain their portraits, as the first of what, they doubtless hoped,
+would be a long series of family pictures.  The day after the
+conversation above recorded, they visited the painter's rooms.  A
+servant ushered them into an apartment, where, though the artist
+himself was not visible, there were personages whom they could hardly
+forbear greeting with reverence.  They knew, indeed, that the whole
+assembly were but pictures, yet felt it impossible to separate the idea
+of life and intellect from such striking counterfeits.  Several of the
+portraits were known to them, either as distinguished characters of the
+day, or their private acquaintances.  There was Governor Burnet,
+looking as if he had just received an undutiful communication from the
+House of Representatives, and were inditing a most sharp response.  Mr.
+Cooke hung beside the ruler whom he opposed, sturdy, and somewhat
+puritanical, as befitted a popular leader.  The ancient lady of Sir
+William Phips eyed them from the wall, in ruff and farthingale, an
+imperious old dame, not unsuspected of witchcraft.  John Winslow, then
+a very young man, wore the expression of warlike enterprise which long
+afterward made him a distinguished general.  Their personal friends
+were recognized at a glance.  In most of the pictures, the whole mind
+and character were brought out on the countenance, and concentrated
+into a single look, so that, to speak paradoxically, the originals
+hardly resembled themselves so strikingly as the portraits did.
+
+Among these modern worthies, there were two old bearded Saints, who had
+almost vanished into the darkening canvas.  There was also a pale but
+unfaded Madonna, who had perhaps been worshiped in Rome, and now
+regarded the lovers with such a mild and holy look that they longed to
+worship too.
+
+"How singular a thought," observed Walter Ludlow, "that this beautiful
+face has been beautiful for above two hundred years!  Oh, if all beauty
+would endure so well!  Do you not envy her, Elinor?"
+
+"If earth were heaven, I might," she replied.  "But where all things
+fade, how miserable to be the one that could not fade!"
+
+"This dark old St. Peter has a fierce and ugly scowl, saint though he
+be," continued Walter.  "He troubles me.  But the virgin looks kindly
+at us."
+
+"Yes; but very sorrowfully, methinks," said Elinor.  The easel stood
+beneath these three old pictures, sustaining one that had been recently
+commenced.  After a little inspection, they began to recognize the
+features of their own minister; the Rev. Dr. Colman, growing into shape
+and life as it were, out of a cloud.
+
+"Kind old man!" exclaimed Elinor.  "He gazes at me as if he were about
+to utter a word of paternal advice."
+
+"And at me," said Walter, "as if he were about to shake his head and
+rebuke me for some suspected iniquity.  But so does the original.  I
+shall never feel quite comfortable under his eye, till we stand before
+him to be married."
+
+They now heard a footstep on the floor, and turning, beheld the
+painter, who had been some moments in the room, and had listened to a
+few of their remarks.  He was a middle-aged man, with a countenance
+well worthy of his own pencil.  Indeed, by the picturesque though
+careless arrangement of his rich dress, and, perhaps, because his soul
+dwelt always among painted shapes, he looked somewhat like a portrait
+himself.  His visitors were sensible of a kindred between the artist
+and his works, and felt as if one of the pictures had stepped from the
+canvas to salute them.
+
+Walter Ludlow, who was slightly known to the painter, explained the
+object of their visit.  While he spoke, a sun-beam was falling athwart
+his figure and Elinor's, with so happy an effect that they also seemed
+living pictures of youth and beauty, gladdened by bright fortune.  The
+artist was evidently struck.
+
+"My easel is occupied for several ensuing days, and my stay in Boston
+must be brief," said he, thoughtfully; then, after an observant glance,
+he added, "but your wishes shall be gratified, though I disappoint the
+Chief-Justice and Madam Oliver.  I must not lose this opportunity, for
+the sake of painting a few ells of broadcloth and brocade."
+
+The painter expressed a desire to introduce both their portraits into
+one picture, and represent them engaged in some appropriate action.
+This plan would have delighted the lovers, but was necessarily
+rejected, because so large a space of canvas would have been unfit for
+the room which it was intended to decorate.  Two half-length portraits
+were therefore fixed upon.  After they had taken leave, Walter Ludlow
+asked Elinor, with a smile, whether she knew what an influence over
+their fates the painter was about to acquire.
+
+"The old women of Boston affirm," continued he, "that after he has once
+got possession of a person's face and figure, he may paint him in any
+act or situation whatever--and the picture will be prophetic.  Do you
+believe it?"
+
+"Not quite," said Elinor, smiling.  "Yet if he has such magic, there is
+something so gentle in his manner that I am sure he will use it well."
+
+It was the painter's choice to proceed with both the portraits at the
+same time, assigning as a reason, in the mystical language which he
+sometimes used, that the faces threw light upon each other.
+Accordingly, he gave now a touch to Walter, and now to Elinor, and the
+features of one and the other began to start forth so vividly that it
+appeared as if his triumphant art would actually disengage them from
+the canvas.  Amid the rich light and deep shade they beheld their
+phantom selves.  But, though the likeness promised to be perfect, they
+were not quite satisfied with the expression; it seemed more vague than
+in most of the painter's works.  He, however, was satisfied with the
+prospect of success, and being much interested in the lovers, employed
+his leisure moments, unknown to them, in making a crayon sketch of
+their two figures.  During their sittings, he engaged them in
+conversation, and kindled up their faces with characteristic traits,
+which, though continually varying, it was his purpose to combine and
+fix.  At length he announced that at their next visit both the
+portraits would be ready for delivery.
+
+"If my pencil will but be true to my conception, in the few last
+touches which I meditate," observed he, "these two pictures will be my
+very best performances.  Seldom, indeed, has an artist such subjects."
+
+While speaking, he still bent his penetrative eye upon them, nor
+withdrew it till they had reached the bottom of the stairs.
+
+Nothing, in the whole circle of human vanities, takes stronger hold of
+the imagination than this affair of having a portrait painted.  Yet why
+should it be so?  The looking-glass, the polished globes of the
+andirons, the mirror-like water, and all other reflecting surfaces,
+continually present us with portraits, or rather ghosts, of ourselves,
+which we glance at, and straightway forget them.  But we forget them
+only because they vanish.  It is the idea of duration--of earthly
+immortality--that gives such a mysterious interest to our own
+portraits.  Walter and Elinor were not insensible to this feeling, and
+hastened to the painter's room, punctually at the appointed hour, to
+meet those pictured shapes which were to be their representatives with
+posterity.  The sunshine flashed after them into the apartment, but
+left it somewhat gloomy, as they closed the door.
+
+Their eyes were immediately attracted to their portraits, which rested
+against the furthest wall of the room.  At the first glance, through
+the dim light and the distance, seeing themselves in precisely their
+natural attitudes, and with all the air that they recognized so well,
+they uttered a simultaneous exclamation of delight.
+
+"There we stand," cried Walter, enthusiastically, "fixed in sunshine
+forever!  No dark passions can gather on our faces!"
+
+"No," said Elinor, more calmly; "no dreary change can sadden us."
+
+This was said while they were approaching, and had yet gained only an
+imperfect view of the pictures.  The painter, after saluting them,
+busied himself at a table in completing a crayon sketch, leaving his
+visitors to form their own judgment as to his perfected labors.  At
+intervals, he sent a glance from beneath his deep eyebrows, watching
+their countenances in profile, with his pencil suspended over the
+sketch.  They had now stood some moments, each in front of the other's
+picture, contemplating it with entranced attention, but without
+uttering a word.  At length Walter stepped forward--then back--viewing
+Elinor's portrait in various lights, and finally spoke.
+
+"Is there not a change?" said he, in a doubtful and meditative tone.
+"Yes; the perception of it grows more vivid, the longer I look.  It is
+certainly the same picture that I saw yesterday; the dress--the
+features--all are the same; and yet something is altered."
+
+"Is, then, the picture less like than it was yesterday?" inquired the
+painter, now drawing near, with irrepressible interest.
+
+"The features are perfect, Elinor," answered Walter, "and, at the first
+glance, the expression seemed also hers.  But, I could fancy that the
+portrait has changed countenance while I have been looking at it.  The
+eyes are fixed on mine with a strangely sad and anxious expression.
+Nay, it is grief and terror!  Is this like Elinor?"
+
+"Compare the living face with the pictured one," said the painter.
+
+Walter glanced sidelong at his mistress and started.  Motionless and
+absorbed--fascinated as it were--in contemplation of Walter's portrait,
+Elinor's face had assumed precisely the expression of which he had just
+been complaining.  Had she practiced for whole hours before a mirror,
+she could not have caught the look so successfully.  Had the picture
+itself been a mirror, it could not have thrown back her present aspect,
+with stronger and more melancholy truth.  She appeared quite
+unconscious of the dialogue between the artist and her lover.
+
+"Elinor," exclaimed Walter, in amazement, "what change has come over
+you?"
+
+She did not hear him, nor desist from her fixed gaze, till he seized
+her hand, and thus attracted her notice; then, with a sudden tremor,
+she looked from the picture to the face of the original.  "Do you see
+no change in your portrait?" asked she.
+
+"In mine?--None!" replied Walter, examining it.  "But let me see!  Yes;
+there is a slight change--an improvement, I think, in the picture,
+though none in the likeness.  It has a livelier expression than
+yesterday, as if some bright thought were flashing from the eyes, and
+about to be uttered from the lips.  Now that I have caught the look, it
+becomes very decided."
+
+While he was intent on these observations, Elinor turned to the
+painter.  She regarded him with grief and awe, and felt that he repaid
+her with sympathy and commiseration, though wherefore she could but
+vaguely guess.
+
+"That look!" whispered she, and shuddered.  "How came it there?"
+
+"Madam," said the painter, sadly, taking her hand, and leading her
+apart, "in both these pictures I have painted what I saw.  The
+artist--the true artist--must look beneath the exterior.  It is his
+gift--his proudest but often a melancholy one--to see the inmost soul,
+and by a power indefinable even to himself to make it glow or darken
+upon the canvas, in glances that express the thought and sentiment of
+years.  Would that I might convince myself of error in the present
+instance!"
+
+They had now approached the table, on which were heads in chalk, hands
+almost as expressive as ordinary faces, ivied church towers, thatched
+cottages, old thunder-stricken trees, Oriental and antique costume, and
+all such picturesque vagaries of an artist's idle moments.  Turning
+them over, with seeming carelessness, a crayon sketch of two figures
+was disclosed.
+
+"If I have failed," continued he, "if your heart does not see itself
+reflected in your own portrait, if you have no secret cause to trust my
+delineation of the other, it is not yet too late to alter them.  I
+might change the action of these figures too.  But would it influence
+the event?"
+
+He directed her notice to the sketch.  A thrill ran through Elinor's
+frame; a shriek was upon her lips; but she stifled it, with the
+self-command that becomes habitual to all who hide thoughts of fear and
+anguish within their bosoms.  Turning from the table, she perceived
+that Walter had advanced near enough to have seen the sketch, though
+she could not determine whether it had caught his eye.
+
+"We will not have the pictures altered," said she hastily.  "If mine is
+sad, I shall but look the gayer for the contrast."
+
+"Be it so," answered the painter, bowing.  "May your griefs be such
+fanciful ones that only your picture may mourn for them!  For your
+joys--may they be true and deep, and paint themselves upon this lovely
+face till it quite belie my art!"
+
+After the marriage of Walter and Elinor, the pictures formed the two
+most splendid ornaments of their abode.  They hung side by side,
+separated by a narrow panel, appearing to eye each other constantly,
+yet always returning the gaze of the spectator.  Travelled gentlemen,
+who professed a knowledge of such subjects, reckoned these among the
+most admirable specimens of modern portraiture; while common observers
+compared them with the originals, feature by feature, and were
+rapturous in praise of the likeness.  But it was on a third
+class--neither travelled connoisseurs nor common observers, but people
+of natural sensibility--that the pictures wrought their strongest
+effect.  Such persons might gaze carelessly at first, but, becoming
+interested, would return day after day, and study these painted faces
+like the pages of a mystic volume.  Walter Ludlow's portrait attracted
+their earliest notice.  In the absence of himself and his bride, they
+sometimes disputed as to the expression which the painter had intended
+to throw upon the features; all agreeing that there was a look of
+earnest import, though no two explained it alike.  There was less
+diversity of opinion in regard to Elinor's picture.  They differed,
+indeed, in their attempts to estimate the nature and depth of the gloom
+that dwelt upon her face, but agreed that it was gloom, and alien from
+the natural temperament of their youthful friend.  A certain fanciful
+person announced, as the result of much scrutiny, that both these
+pictures were parts of one design, and that the melancholy strength of
+feeling, in Elinor's countenance, bore reference to the more vivid
+emotion, or, as he termed it, the wild passion, in that of Walter.
+Though unskilled in the art, he even began a sketch, in which the
+action of the two figures was to correspond with their mutual
+expression.
+
+It was whispered among friends, that, day by day, Elinor's face was
+assuming a deeper shade of pensiveness, which threatened soon to render
+her too true a counterpart of her melancholy picture.  Walter, on the
+other hand, instead of acquiring the vivid look which the painter had
+given him on the canvas, became reserved and downcast, with no outward
+flashes of emotion, however it might be smouldering within.  In course
+of time, Elinor hung a gorgeous curtain of purple silk, wrought with
+flowers, and fringed with heavy golden tassels, before the pictures,
+under pretence that the dust would tarnish their hues, or the light dim
+them.  It was enough.  Her visitors felt that the massive folds of the
+silk must never be withdrawn, nor the portraits mentioned in her
+presence.
+
+Time wore on; and the painter came again.  He had been far enough to
+the north to see the silver cascade of the Crystal Hills, and to look
+over the vast round of cloud and forest, from the summit of New
+England's loftiest mountain.  But he did not profane that scene by the
+mockery of his art.  He had also lain in a canoe on the bosom of Lake
+George, making his soul the mirror of its loveliness and grandeur, till
+not a picture in the Vatican was more vivid than his recollection.  He
+had gone with the Indian hunters to Niagara, and there, again, had
+flung his hopeless pencil down the precipice, feeling that he could as
+soon paint the roar as aught else that goes to make up the wondrous
+cataract.  In truth, it was seldom his impulse to copy natural scenery,
+except as a framework for the delineations of the human form and face,
+instinct with thought, passion, or suffering.  With store of such, his
+adventurous ramble had enriched him; the stern dignity of Indian
+chiefs; the dusky loveliness of Indian girls; the domestic life of
+wigwams; the stealthy march; the battle beneath gloomy pine trees; the
+frontier fortress with its garrison; the anomaly of the old French
+partisan, bred in courts, but grown gray in shaggy deserts; such were
+the scenes and portraits that he had sketched.  The glow of perilous
+moments; flashes of wild feeling; struggles of fierce power--love,
+hate, grief, frenzy--in a word, all the worn-out heart of the old earth
+had been revealed to him under a new form.  His portfolio was filled
+with graphic illustrations of the volume of his memory, which genius
+would transmute into its own substance, and imbue with immortality.  He
+felt that the deep wisdom in his art, which he had sought so far, was
+found.
+
+But, amid stern or lovely nature, in the perils of the forest, or its
+overwhelming peacefulness, still there had been two phantoms, the
+companions of his way.  Like all other men around whom an engrossing
+purpose wreathes itself, he was insulated from the mass of human kind.
+He had no aim--no pleasure--no sympathies--but what were ultimately
+connected with his art.  Though gentle in manner, and upright in intent
+and action, he did not possess kindly feelings; his heart was cold; no
+living creature could be brought near enough to keep him warm.  For
+these two beings, however, he had felt, in its greatest intensity, the
+sort of interest which always allied him to the subjects of his pencil.
+He had pried into their souls with his keenest insight, and pictured
+the result upon their features with his utmost skill, so as barely to
+fall short of that standard which no genius ever reached, his own
+severe conception.  He had caught from the duskiness of the future--at
+least, so he fancied--a fearful secret, and had obscurely revealed it
+on the portraits.  So much of himself--of his imagination and all other
+powers--had been lavished on the study of Walter and Elinor, that he
+almost regarded them as creations of his own, like the thousands with
+which he had peopled the realms of Picture.  Therefore did they flit
+through the twilight of the woods, hover on the mist of waterfalls,
+look forth from the mirror of the lake, nor melt away in the noontide
+sun.  They haunted his pictorial fancy, not as mockeries of life, nor
+pale goblins of the dead, but in the guise of portraits, each with the
+unalterable expression which his magic had evoked from the caverns of
+the soul.  He could not recross the Atlantic, till he had again beheld
+the originals of those airy pictures.
+
+"Oh, glorious Art!" thus mused the enthusiastic painter, as he trod the
+street.  "Thou art the image of the Creator's own.  The innumerable
+forms that wander in nothingness start into being at thy beck.  The
+dead live again.  Thou recallest them to their old scenes, and givest
+their gray shadows the lustre of a better life, at once earthly and
+immortal.  Thou snatchest back the fleeting moments of History.  With
+thee, there is no Past; for, at thy touch, all that is great becomes
+forever present; and illustrious men live through long ages, in the
+visible performance of the very deeds which made them what they are.
+Oh, potent Art! as thou bringest the faintly revealed Past to stand in
+that narrow strip of sunlight which we call Now, canst thou summon the
+shrouded Future to meet her there?  Have I not achieved it!  Am I not
+thy Prophet?"
+
+Thus with a proud yet melancholy fervor did he almost cry aloud, as he
+passed through the toilsome street, among people that knew not of his
+reveries, nor could understand nor care for them.  It is not good for
+man to cherish a solitary ambition.  Unless there be those around him
+by whose example he may regulate himself, his thoughts, desires, and
+hopes will become extravagant, and he the semblance, perhaps the
+reality, of a madman.  Reading other bosoms, with an acuteness almost
+preternatural, the painter failed to see the disorder of his own.
+
+"And this should be the house," said he, looking up and down the front,
+before he knocked.  "Heaven help my brains!  That picture!  Methinks it
+will never vanish.  Whether I look at the windows or the door, there it
+is framed within them, painted strongly, and glowing in the richest
+tints--the faces of the portraits--the figures and action of the
+sketch!"
+
+He knocked.
+
+"The portraits!  Are they within?" inquired he, of the domestic; then
+recollecting himself--"your master and mistress!  Are they at home?"
+
+"They are, sir," said the servant, adding, as he noticed that
+picturesque aspect of which the painter could never divest himself,
+"and the Portraits too!"
+
+The guest was admitted into a parlor, communicating by a central door
+with an interior room of the same size.  As the first apartment was
+empty, he passed to the entrance of the second, within which his eyes
+were greeted by those living personages, as well as their pictured
+representatives, who had long been the object of so singular an
+interest.  He involuntarily paused on the threshold.
+
+They had not perceived his approach.  Walter and Elinor were standing
+before the portraits, whence the former had just flung back the rich
+and voluminous folds of the silken curtain, holding its golden tassel
+with one hand, while the other grasped that of his bride.  The
+pictures, concealed for months, gleamed forth again in undiminished
+splendor, appearing to throw a sombre light across the room rather than
+to be disclosed by a borrowed radiance.  That of Elinor had been almost
+prophetic.  A pensiveness, and next a gentle sorrow, had successively
+dwelt upon her countenance, deepening, with the lapse of time, into a
+quiet anguish.  A mixture of affright would now have made it the very
+expression of the portrait.  Walter's face was moody and dull, or
+animated only by fitful flashes, which left a heavier darkness for
+their momentary illumination.  He looked from Elinor to her portrait,
+and thence to his own, in the contemplation of which he finally stood
+absorbed.
+
+The painter seemed to hear the step of Destiny approaching behind him,
+on its progress toward its victims.  A strange thought darted into his
+mind.  Was not his own the form in which that Destiny had embodied
+itself, and he a chief agent of the coming evil which he had
+foreshadowed?
+
+Still, Walter remained silent before the picture, communing with it, as
+with his own heart, and abandoning himself to the spell of evil
+influence that the painter had cast upon the features.  Gradually his
+eyes kindled; while, as Elinor watched the increasing wildness of his
+face, her own assumed a look of terror; and when at last he turned upon
+her, the resemblance of both to their portraits was complete.
+
+"Our fate is upon us!" howled Walter.  "Die!"
+
+Drawing a knife, he sustained her, as she was sinking to the ground,
+and aimed it at her bosom.  In the action and in the look and attitude
+of each, the painter beheld the figures of his sketch.  The picture,
+with all its tremendous coloring was finished.
+
+"Hold, madman!" cried he, sternly.
+
+He had advanced from the door, and interposed himself between the
+wretched beings, with the same sense of power to regulate their destiny
+as to alter a scene upon the canvas.  He stood like a magician,
+controlling the phantoms which he had evoked.
+
+"What!" muttered Walter Ludlow, as he relapsed from fierce excitement
+into silent gloom.  "Does Fate impede its own decree?"
+
+"Wretched lady!" said the painter.  "Did I not warn you?"
+
+"You did," replied Elinor, calmly, as her terror gave place to the
+quiet grief which it had disturbed.  "But--I loved him!"
+
+Is there not a deep moral in the tale?  Could the result of one, or all
+our deeds, be shadowed forth and set before us--some would call it Fate
+and hurry onward, others be swept along by their passionate
+desires--and none be turned aside by the PROPHETIC PICTURES.
+
+
+
+
+THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW
+
+By WASHINGTON IRVING
+
+(FOUND AMONG THE PAPERS OF THE LATE DIEDRICH KNICKERBOCKER)
+
+  "A pleasing land of drowsy head it was,
+  Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye;
+  And of gay castles in the clouds that pass,
+  Forever flushing round a summer sky."
+               --_Castle of Indolence_
+
+
+In the bosom of one of those spacious coves which indent the eastern
+shore of the Hudson, at that broad expansion of the river denominated
+by the ancient Dutch navigators the Tappaan Zee, and where they always
+prudently shortened sail and implored the protection of St. Nicholas
+when they crossed, there lies a small market town or rural port, which
+by some is called Greensburgh, but which is more generally and properly
+known by the name of Tarry Town.  This name was given it, we are told,
+in former days, by the good housewives of the adjacent country, from
+the inveterate propensity of their husbands to linger about the village
+tavern on market days.  Be that as it may, I do not vouch for the fact,
+but merely advert to it, for the sake of being precise and authentic.
+Not far from this village, perhaps about three miles, there is a little
+valley or rather lap of land among high hills, which is one of the
+quietest places in the whole world.  A small brook glides through it,
+with just murmur enough to lull one to repose, and the occasional
+whistle of a quail, or tapping of a woodpecker, is almost the only
+sound that ever breaks in upon the uniform tranquillity.
+
+I recollect that, when a stripling, my first exploit in
+squirrel-shooting was in a grove of tall walnut-trees that shades one
+side of the valley.  I had wandered into it at noon-time, when all
+nature is peculiarly quiet, and was startled by roar of my own gun, as
+it broke the sabbath stillness around and was prolonged and
+reverberated by the angry echoes.  If ever I should wish for a retreat
+whither I might steal from the world and its distractions, and dream
+quietly away the remnant of a troubled life, I know of none more
+promising than this little valley.
+
+From the listless repose of the place and the peculiar character of its
+inhabitants, who are descendants from the original Dutch settlers, this
+sequestered glen has long been known by the name of Sleepy Hollow, and
+its rustic lads are called the Sleepy Hollow Boys throughout all the
+neighboring country.  A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the
+land and to pervade the very atmosphere.  Some say that the place was
+bewitched by a high German doctor, during the early days of the
+settlement; others, that an old Indian chief, the prophet or wizard of
+his tribe, held his powwows there before the country was discovered by
+Master Hendrick Hudson.  Certain it is, the place still continues under
+the sway of some witching power that holds a spell over the minds of
+the good people, causing them to walk in a continual reverie.  They are
+given to all kinds of marvelous beliefs; are subject to trances and
+visions, and frequently see strange sights, and hear music and voices
+in the air.  The whole neighborhood abounds with local tales, haunted
+spots, and twilight superstitions; stars shoot and meteors glare
+oftener across the valley than in any other part of the country, and
+the nightmare, with her whole nine fold, seems to make it the favorite
+scene of her gambols.
+
+The dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region and
+seems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers of the air, is the
+apparition of a figure on horseback without a head.  It is said by some
+to be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away
+by a cannon-ball in some nameless battle during the revolutionary war,
+and who is ever and anon seen by the country folk, hurrying along in
+the gloom of night, as if on the wings of the wind.  His haunts are not
+confined to the valley, but extend at times to the adjacent roads, and
+especially to the vicinity of a church that is at no great distance.
+Indeed, certain of the most authentic historians of those parts, who
+have been careful in collecting and collating the floating facts
+concerning this specter, allege that, the body of the trooper having
+been buried in the churchyard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of
+battle in nightly quest of his head, and that the rushing speed with
+which he sometimes passes along the hollow like a midnight blast, is
+owing to his being belated, and in a hurry to get back to the
+churchyard before daybreak.
+
+Such is the general purport of this legendary superstition, which has
+furnished materials for many a wild story in that region of shadows,
+and the specter is known at all the country firesides by the name of
+The Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.
+
+It is remarkable that the visionary propensity I have mentioned is not
+confined to the native inhabitants of the valley, but is unconsciously
+imbibed by every one who resides there for a time.  However wide awake
+they may have been before they entered that sleepy region, they are
+sure, in a little time, to inhale the witching influence of the air,
+and begin to grow imaginative--to dream dreams and see apparitions.
+
+I mention this peaceful spot with all possible laud; for it is in such
+little retired Dutch valleys, found here and there embosomed in the
+great State of New York, that population, manners and customs remain
+fixed, while the great torrent of migration and improvement, which is
+making such incessant changes in other parts of this restless country,
+sweeps by them unobserved.  They are like those little nooks of still
+water which border a rapid stream, where we may see the straw and
+bubble riding quietly at anchor, or slowly revolving in their mimic
+harbor, undisturbed by the rush of the passing current.  Though many
+years have elapsed since I trod the drowsy shades of Sleepy Hollow, yet
+I question whether I should not still find the same trees and the same
+families vegetating in its sheltered bosom.
+
+In this by-place of nature there abode, in a remote period of American
+history, that is to say, some thirty years since, a worthy wight of the
+name of Ichabod Crane, who sojourned, or, as he expressed it,
+"tarried," in Sleepy Hollow, for the purpose of instructing the
+children of the vicinity.  He was a native of Connecticut, a State
+which supplies the Union with pioneers for the mind as well as for the
+forest, and sends forth yearly its legions of frontier woodmen and
+country schoolmasters.
+
+The cognomen of Crane was not inapplicable to his person.  He was tall,
+but exceedingly lank, with narrow shoulders, long arms and legs, hands
+that dangled a mile out of his sleeves, feet that might have served for
+shovels, and his whole frame most loosely hung together.  His head was
+small and flat at top, with huge ears, large green glassy eyes, and a
+long snipe nose, so that it looked like a weathercock perched upon his
+spindle neck to tell which way the wind blew.  To see him striding
+along the profile of a hill on a windy day, with his clothes bagging
+and fluttering about him, one might have mistaken him for the genius of
+famine descending upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from a
+cornfield.
+
+His schoolhouse was a low building of one large room, rudely
+constructed of logs, the windows partly glazed and partly patched with
+leaves of copy-books.  It was most ingeniously secured at vacant hours
+by a withe twisted in the handle of the door, and stakes set against
+the window-shutters; so that, though a thief might get in with perfect
+case, he would find some embarrassment in getting out--an idea most
+probably borrowed by the architect, Yost Van Houten, from the mystery
+of an ellpot.  The schoolhouse stood in a rather lonely but pleasant
+situation, just at the foot of a woody hill, with a brook running close
+by and a formidable birch-tree growing at one end of it.  From hence
+the low murmur of his pupils' voices, conning over their lessons, might
+be heard of a drowsy summer's day, like the hum of a beehive;
+interrupted now and then by the authoritative voice of the master in
+the tone of menace or command; or, peradventure, by the appalling sound
+of the birch, as he urged some tardy loiterer along the flowery path of
+knowledge.  Truth to say, he was a conscientious man, that ever bore in
+mind the golden maxim, "spare the rod and spoil the child."--Ichabod
+Crane's scholars certainly were not spoiled.
+
+I would not have it imagined, however, that he was one of those cruel
+potentates of the school who joy in the smart of their subjects; on the
+contrary, he administered justice with discrimination rather than
+severity, taking the burden off the backs of the weak and laying it on
+those of the strong.  Your mere puny stripling, that winced at the
+least flourish of the rod, was passed by with indulgence; but the
+claims of justice were satisfied by inflicting a double portion on some
+little, tough, wrong headed, broad-skirted Dutch urchin, who sulked and
+swelled and grew dogged and sullen beneath the birch.  All this he
+called "doing his duty by their parents"; and he never inflicted a
+chastisement without following it by the assurance, so consolatory to
+the smarting urchin, that "he would remember it and thank him for it
+the longest day he had to live."
+
+When school hours were over, he was even the companion and playmate of
+the larger boys; and on holyday afternoons would convoy some of the
+smaller ones home, who happened to have pretty sisters, or good
+housewives for mothers, noted for the comforts of the cupboard.
+Indeed, it behooved him to keep on good terms with his pupils.  The
+revenue arising from his school was small, and would have been scarcely
+sufficient to furnish him with daily bread, for he was a huge feeder,
+and, though lank, had the dilating powers of an anaconda; but to help
+out his maintenance, he was, according to country custom in those
+parts, boarded and lodged at the houses of the farmers whose children
+he instructed.  With these he lived successively a week at a time, thus
+going the rounds of the neighborhood with all his worldly effects tied
+up in a cotton handkerchief.
+
+That all this might not be too onerous on the purses of his rustic
+patrons, who are apt to consider the costs of schooling a grievous
+burden and schoolmasters as mere drones, he had various ways of
+rendering himself both useful and agreeable.  He assisted the farmers
+occasionally in the lighter labors of their farms; helped to make hay;
+mended the fences; took the horses to water; drove the cows from
+pasture, and cut wood for the winter fire.  He laid aside, too, all the
+dominant dignity and absolute sway with which he lorded it in his
+little empire, the school, and became wonderfully gentle and
+ingratiating.  He found favor in the eyes of the mothers, by petting
+the children, particularly the youngest; and like the lion bold, which
+whilom so magnanimously the lamb did hold, he would sit with a child on
+one knee and rock a cradle with his foot for whole hours together.
+
+In addition to his other vocations, he was the singing-master of the
+neighborhood, and picked up many bright shillings by instructing the
+young folks in psalmody.  It was a matter of no little vanity to him on
+Sundays to take his station in front of the church gallery, with a band
+of chosen singers; where, in his own mind, he completely carried away
+the palm from the parson.  Certain it is, his voice resounded far above
+all the rest of the congregation, and there are peculiar quavers still
+to be heard in that church, and which may even be heard half a mile
+off, quite to the opposite side of the mill-pond, on a still Sunday
+morning, which are said to be legitimately descended from the nose of
+Ichabod Crane.  Thus by divers little makeshifts, in that ingenious way
+which is commonly denominated "by hook and by crook," the worthy
+pedagogue got on tolerably enough, and was thought, by all who
+understood nothing of the labor of head-work, to have a wonderfully
+easy life of it.
+
+The schoolmaster is generally a man of some importance in the female
+circle of a rural neighborhood; being considered a kind of idle
+gentleman-like personage, of vastly superior taste and accomplishments
+to the rough country swains, and, indeed, inferior in learning only to
+the parson.  His appearance, therefore, is apt to occasion some little
+stir at the tea-table of a farmhouse and the addition of a
+supernumerary dish of cakes or sweetmeats, or, peradventure, the parade
+of a silver teapot.  Our man of letters, therefore, was peculiarly
+happy in the smiles of all the country damsels.  How he would figure
+among them in the churchyard, between, services on Sundays! gathering
+grapes for them from the wild vines that overrun the surrounding trees;
+reciting for their amusement all the epitaphs on the tombstones, or
+sauntering, with a whole bevy of them, along the banks of the adjacent
+mill-pond; while the more bashful country bumpkins hung sheepishly
+back, envying his superior elegance and address.
+
+From his half itinerant life, also, he was a kind of traveling gazette,
+carrying the whole budget of local gossip from house to house, so that
+his appearance was always greeted with satisfaction.  He was, moreover,
+esteemed by the women as a man of great erudition, for he had read
+several books quite through, and was a perfect master of Cotton
+Mather's "History of New England Witchcraft," in which, by the way, he
+most firmly and potently believed.
+
+He was, in fact, an odd mixture of small shrewdness and simple
+credulity.  His appetite for the marvelous, and his powers of digesting
+it, were equally extraordinary; and both had been increased by his
+residence in this spell-bound region.  No tale was too gross or
+monstrous for his capacious swallow.  It was often his delight, after
+his school was dismissed in the afternoon, to stretch himself on the
+rich bed of clover, bordering the little brook that whimpered by his
+schoolhouse, and there con over old Mather's direful tales, until the
+gathering dusk of evening made the printed page a mere mist before his
+eyes.  Then, as he wended his way, by swamp and stream and awful
+woodland, to the farmhouse where he happened to be quartered, every
+sound of nature, at that witching hour, fluttered his excited
+imagination: the moan of the whip-poor-will[1] from the hill-side; the
+boding cry of the tree-toad, that harbinger of storm; the dreary
+hooting of the screech-owl, or the sudden rustling in the thicket of
+birds frightened from their roost.  The fire-flies, too, which sparkled
+most vividly in the darkest places, now and then startled him, as one
+of uncommon brightness would stream across his path; and if, by chance,
+a huge blockhead of a beetle came winging his blundering flight against
+him, the poor varlet was ready to give up the ghost, with the idea that
+he was struck with a witch's token.  His only resource on such
+occasions, either to drown thought or drive away evil spirits, was to
+sing psalm tunes; and the good people of Sleepy Hollow, as they sat by
+their doors of an evening, were often filled with awe at hearing his
+nasal melody, "in linked sweetness long drawn out," floating from the
+distant hill, or along the dusky road.
+
+Another of his sources of fearful pleasure was to pass long winter
+evenings with the old Dutch wives, as they sat spinning by the fire,
+with a row of apples roasting and sputtering along the hearth, and
+listen to their marvelous tales of ghosts and goblins, and haunted
+fields and haunted brooks, and haunted bridges and haunted houses, and
+particularly of the headless horseman, or galloping Hessian of the
+Hollow, as they sometimes called him.  He would delight them equally by
+his anecdotes of witchcraft, and of the direful omens and portentous
+sights and sounds in the air, which prevailed in the earlier times of
+Connecticut; and would frighten them wofully with speculations upon
+comets and shooting stars, and with the alarming fact that the world
+did absolutely turn round, and that they were half the time topsy-turvy!
+
+But if there was a pleasure in all this, while snugly cuddling in the
+chimney corner of a chamber that was all of a ruddy glow from the
+crackling wood fire, and where, of course, no specter dared to show its
+face, it was dearly purchased by the terrors of his subsequent walk
+homeward.  What fearful shapes and shadows beset his path, amid the dim
+and ghastly glare of a snowy night!--With what wistful look did he eye
+every trembling ray of light streaming across the waste fields from
+some distant window!--How often was he appalled by some shrub covered
+with snow, which, like a sheeted specter, beset his very path!--How
+often did he shrink with curdling awe at the sound of his own steps on
+the frosty crust beneath his feet, and dread to look over his shoulder,
+lest he should behold some uncouth being tramping close behind
+him!--and how often was he thrown into complete dismay by some rushing
+blast, howling among the trees, in the idea that it was the galloping
+Hessian on one of his nightly scourings!
+
+All these, however, were mere terrors of the night, phantoms of the
+mind, that walk in darkness: and though he had seen many specters in
+his time, and had been more than once beset by Satan in divers shapes
+in his lonely perambulations, yet daylight put an end to all these
+evils; and he would have passed a pleasant life of it, in despite of
+the Devil and all his works, if his path had not been crossed by a
+being that causes more perplexity to mortal man than ghosts, goblins,
+and the whole race of witches put together; and that was--a woman.
+
+Among the musical disciples who assembled, one evening in each week, to
+receive his instructions in psalmody, was Katrina Van Tassel, the
+daughter and only child of a substantial Dutch farmer.  She was a
+blooming lass of fresh eighteen; plump as a partridge, ripe and melting
+and rosy-cheeked as one of her father's peaches, and universally famed,
+not merely for her beauty, but her vast expectations.  She was withal a
+little of a coquette, as might be perceived even in her dress, which
+was a mixture of ancient and modern fashions, as most suited to set off
+her charms.  She wore the ornaments of pure yellow gold which her
+great-great-grandmother had brought over from Saardam; the tempting
+stomacher of the olden time, and withal a provokingly short petticoat,
+to display the prettiest foot and ankle in the country round.
+
+Ichabod Crane had a soft and foolish heart toward the sex; and it is
+not to be wondered at that so tempting a morsel soon found favor in his
+eyes, more especially after he had visited her in her paternal mansion.
+Old Baltus Van Tassel was a perfect picture of a thriving, contented,
+liberal-hearted farmer.  He seldom, it is true, sent either his eyes or
+his thoughts beyond the boundaries of his own farm; but within these,
+everything was snug, happy, and well-conditioned.  He was satisfied
+with his wealth, but not proud of it; and piqued himself upon the
+hearty abundance, rather than the style in which he lived.  His
+stronghold was situated on the banks of the Hudson, in one of those
+green, sheltered, fertile nooks in which the Dutch farmers are so fond
+of nestling.  A great elm-tree spread its broad branches over it, at
+the foot of which bubbled up a spring of the softest and sweetest
+water, in a little well formed of a barrel, and then stole sparkling
+away through the grass, to a neighboring brook that babbled along among
+alders and dwarf willows.  Hard by the farmhouse was a vast barn that
+might have served for a church, every window and crevice of which
+seemed bursting forth with the treasures of the farm; the flail was
+busily resounding within it from morning to night; swallows and martins
+skimmed twittering about the eaves; and rows of pigeons, some with one
+eye turned up, as if watching the weather, some with their heads under
+their wings, or buried in their bosoms, and others, swelling, and
+cooing, and bowing about their dames, were enjoying the sunshine on the
+roof.  Sleek, unwieldy porkers were grunting in the repose and
+abundance of their pens, from whence sallied forth, now and then,
+troops of sucking pigs, as if to snuff the air.  A stately squadron of
+snowy geese were riding in an adjoining pond, convoying whole fleets of
+ducks; regiments of turkeys were gobbling through the farmyard, and
+guinea-fowls fretting about it like ill-tempered housewives, with their
+peevish, discontented cry.  Before the barn door strutted the gallant
+cock, that pattern of a husband, a warrior and a fine gentleman,
+clapping his burnished wings and crowing in the pride and gladness of
+his heart--sometimes tearing up the earth with his feet, and then
+generously calling his ever-hungry family of wives and children to
+enjoy the rich morsel which he had discovered.
+
+The pedagogue's mouth watered as he looked upon this sumptuous promise
+of luxurious winter fare.  In his devouring mind's eye, he pictured to
+himself every roasting pig running about, with a pudding in its belly
+and an apple in its mouth; the pigeons were snugly put to bed in a
+comfortable pie and tucked in with a coverlet of crust; the geese were
+swimming in their own gravy, and the ducks pairing cosily in dishes,
+like snug married couples, with a decent competency of onion sauce.  In
+the porkers he saw carved out the future sleek side of bacon and juicy
+relishing ham; not a turkey, but he beheld daintily trussed up, with
+its gizzard under its wing, and, peradventure, a necklace of savory
+sausages; and even bright chanticleer himself lay sprawling on his
+back, in a side dish, with uplifted claws, as if craving that quarter
+which his chivalrous spirit disdained to ask while living.
+
+As the enraptured Ichabod fancied all this, and as he rolled his great
+green eyes over the fat meadow lands, the rich fields of wheat, of rye,
+of buckwheat and Indian corn, and the orchards burdened with ruddy
+fruit, which surrounded the warm tenement of Van Tassel, his heart
+yearned after the damsel who was to inherit these domains, and his
+imagination expanded with the idea how they might be readily turned
+into cash, and the money invested in immense tracts of wild land and
+shingle palaces in the wilderness.  Nay, his busy fancy already
+realized his hopes, and presented to him the blooming Katrina, with a
+whole family of children, mounted on the top of a wagon loaded with
+household trumpery, with pots and kettles dangling beneath; and he
+beheld himself bestriding a pacing mare, with a colt at her heels,
+setting out for Kentucky, Tennessee--or the Lord knows where!
+
+When he entered the house, the conquest of his heart was complete.  It
+was one of those spacious farmhouses, with high-ridged, but
+lowly-sloping roofs, built in the style handed down from the first
+Dutch settlers.  The low projecting eaves forming a piazza along the
+front capable of being closed up in bad weather.  Under this were hung
+flails, harness, various utensils of husbandry, and nets for fishing in
+the neighboring river.  Benches were built along the sides for summer
+use; and a great spinning-wheel at one end and a churn at the other
+showed the various uses to which this important porch might be devoted.
+From this piazza the wonderful Ichabod entered the hall, which formed
+the center of the mansion, and the place of usual residence.  Here,
+rows of resplendent pewter, ranged on a long dresser, dazzled his eyes.
+In one corner stood a huge bag of wool, ready to be spun; in another, a
+quantity of linsey-woolsey just from the loom; ears of Indian corn and
+strings of dried apples and peaches hung in gay festoons along the
+walls, mingled with the gaud of red peppers; and a door left ajar gave
+him a peep into the best parlor, where the claw-footed chairs, and dark
+mahogany tables, shone like mirrors; andirons, with their accompanying
+shovel and tongs, glistened from their covert of asparagus tops;
+mock-oranges and conch shells decorated the mantel-piece; strings of
+various colored birds' eggs were suspended above it; a great ostrich
+egg was hung from the center of the room, and a corner cupboard,
+knowingly left open, displayed immense treasures of old silver and
+well-mended china.
+
+From the moment Ichabod laid his eyes upon these regions of delight,
+the peace of his mind was at an end, and his only study was how to gain
+the affections of the peerless daughter of Van Tassel.  In this
+enterprise, however, he had more real difficulties than generally fell
+to the lot of a knight-errant of yore, who seldom had anything but
+giants, enchanters, fiery dragons, and such like easily conquered
+adversaries, to contend with; and had to make his way merely through
+gates of iron and brass and walls of adamant to the castle-keep, where
+the lady of his heart was confined; all which he achieved as easily as
+a man would carve his way to the center of a Christmas pie, and then
+the lady gave him her hand as a matter of course.  Ichabod, on the
+contrary, had to win his way to the heart of a country coquette, beset
+with a labyrinth of whims and caprices, which were forever presenting
+new difficulties and impediments, and he had to encounter a host of
+fearful adversaries of real flesh and blood, the numerous rustic
+admirers who beset every portal to her heart; keeping a watchful and
+angry eye upon each other, but ready to fly out in the common cause
+against any new competitor.
+
+Among these, the most formidable was a burly, roaring, roistering
+blade, of the name of Abraham, or, according to the Dutch abbreviation,
+Brom Van Brunt, the hero of the country round, which rung with his
+feats of strength and hardihood.  He was broad-shouldered and
+double-jointed, with short curly black hair, and a bluff, but not
+unpleasant countenance, having a mingled air of fun and arrogance.
+From his Herculean frame and great powers of limb, he had received the
+nickname of Brom Bones, by which he was universally known.  He was
+famed for great knowledge and skill in horsemanship, being as dexterous
+on horseback as a Tartar.  He was foremost at all races and
+cock-fights, and with the ascendency which bodily strength always
+acquires in rustic life, was the umpire in all disputes, setting his
+hat on one side, and giving his decisions with an air and tone that
+admitted of no gainsay or appeal.  He was always ready for either a
+fight or a frolic; had more mischief than ill-will in his composition;
+and, with all his overbearing roughness, there was a strong dash of
+waggish good-humor at bottom.  He had three or four boon companions of
+his own stamp, who regarded him as their model, and at the head of whom
+he scoured the country, attending every scene of feud or merriment for
+miles round.  In cold weather, he was distinguished by a fur cap,
+surmounted with a flaunting fox's tail; and when the folks at a country
+gathering descried this well-known crest at a distance, whisking about
+among a squad of hard riders, they always stood by for a squall.
+Sometimes his crew would be heard dashing along past the farmhouses at
+midnight, with whoop and halloo, like a troop of Don Cossacks, and the
+old dames, startled out of their sleep, would listen for a moment till
+the hurry-scurry had clattered by, and then exclaim, "Ay, there goes
+Brom Bones and his gang!"  The neighbors looked upon him with a mixture
+of awe, admiration, and good-will; and when any madcap prank or rustic
+brawl occurred in the vicinity, always shook their heads, and warranted
+Brom Bones was at the bottom of it.
+
+This rantipole hero had for some time singled out the blooming Katrina
+for the object of his uncouth gallantries, and though his amorous
+toyings were something like the gentle caresses and endearments of a
+bear, yet it was whispered that she did not altogether discourage his
+hopes.  Certain it is, his advances were signals for rival candidates
+to retire, who felt no inclination to cross a lion in his amours;
+insomuch, that when his horse was seen tied to Van Tassel's paling, on
+a Sunday night, a sure sign that his master was courting, or, as it is
+termed, "sparking," within, all other suitors passed by in despair and
+carried the war into other quarters.
+
+Such was the formidable rival with whom Ichabod Crane had to contend,
+and considering all things, a stouter man than he would have shrunk
+from the competition, and a wiser man would have despaired.  He had,
+however, a happy mixture of pliability and perseverance in his nature;
+he was in form and spirit like a supple-jack--yielding, but tough;
+though he bent, he never broke; and though he bowed beneath the
+slightest pressure, yet, the moment it was away--jerk!--he was as erect
+and carried his head as high as ever.
+
+To have taken the field openly against his rival would have been
+madness; for he was not a man to be thwarted in his amours, any more
+than that stormy lover, Achilles.  Ichabod, therefore, made his
+advances in a quiet and gently-insinuating manner.  Under cover of his
+character of singing-master, he made frequent visits at the farmhouse;
+not that he had anything to apprehend from the meddlesome interference
+of parents, which is so often a stumbling-block in the path of lovers.
+Balt Van Tassel was an easy indulgent soul; he loved his daughter
+better even than his pipe, and like a reasonable man, and an excellent
+father, let her have her way in everything.  His notable little wife,
+too, had enough to do to attend to her housekeeping and manage the
+poultry; for, as she sagely observed, ducks and geese are foolish
+things, and must be looked after, but girls can take care of
+themselves.  Thus, while the busy dame bustled about the house, or
+plied her spinning-wheel at one end of the piazza, honest Balt would
+sit smoking his evening pipe at the other, watching the achievements of
+a little wooden warrior, who, armed with a sword in each hand, was most
+valiantly fighting the wind on the pinnacle of the barn.  In the
+meantime, Ichabod would carry on his suit with the daughter by the side
+of the spring under the great elm, or sauntering along in the twilight,
+that hour so favorable to the lover's eloquence.
+
+I profess not to know how women's hearts are wooed and won.  To me they
+have always been matters of riddle and admiration.  Some seem to have
+but one vulnerable point, or door of access; while others have a
+thousand avenues, and may be captured in a thousand different ways.  It
+is a great triumph of skill to gain the former, but a still greater
+proof of generalship to maintain possession of the latter, for a man
+must battle for his fortress at every door and window.  He that wins a
+thousand common hearts, is therefore entitled to some renown; but he
+who keeps undisputed sway over the heart of a coquette, is indeed a
+hero.  Certain it is, this was not the case with the redoubtable Brom
+Bones; and from the moment Ichabod Crane made his advances, the
+interests of the former evidently declined: his horse was no longer
+seen tied at the palings on Sunday nights, and a deadly feud gradually
+arose between him and the preceptor of Sleepy Hollow.
+
+Brom, who had a degree of rough chivalry in his nature, would fain have
+carried matters to open warfare, and settled their pretensions to the
+lady according to the mode of those most concise and simple reasoners,
+the knights-errant of yore--by single combat; but Ichabod was too
+conscious of the superior might of his adversary to enter the lists
+against him; he had overheard the boast of Bones, that he would "double
+the schoolmaster up, and put him on a shelf"; and he was too wary to
+give him an opportunity.  There was something extremely provoking in
+this obstinately pacific system; it left Brom no alternative but to
+draw upon the funds of rustic waggery in his disposition, and to play
+off boorish practical jokes upon his rival.  Ichabod became the object
+of whimsical persecution to Bones and his gang of rough riders.  They
+harried his hitherto peaceful domains; smoked out his singing-school,
+by stopping up the chimney; broke into the schoolhouse at night, in
+spite of its formidable fastenings of withe and window stakes, and
+turned everything topsy-turvy; so that the poor schoolmaster began to
+think all the witches in the country held their meetings there.  But
+what was still more annoying, Brom took all opportunities of turning
+him into ridicule in presence of his mistress, and had a scoundrel dog
+whom he taught to whine in the most ludicrous manner, and introduced as
+a rival of Ichabod's, to instruct her in psalmody.
+
+In this way, matters went on for some time, without producing any
+material effect on the relative situations of the contending powers.
+On a fine autumnal afternoon, Ichabod, in pensive mood, sat enthroned
+on the lofty stool from whence he usually watched all the concerns of
+his little literary realm.  In his hand he swayed a ferule, that
+scepter of despotic power; the birch of justice reposed on three nails,
+behind the throne, a constant terror to evil doers; while on the desk
+before him might be seen sundry contraband articles and prohibited
+weapons, detected upon the persons of idle urchins, such as
+half-munched apples, popguns, whirligigs, fly-cages, and whole legions
+of rampant little paper game-cocks.  Apparently there had been some
+appalling act of justice recently inflicted, for his scholars were all
+busily intent upon their books, or slyly whispering behind them with
+one eye kept upon the master; and a kind of buzzing stillness reigned
+throughout the schoolroom.  It was suddenly interrupted by the
+appearance of a negro in tow-cloth jacket and trousers, a round crowned
+fragment of a hat, like the cap of Mercury, and mounted on the back of
+a ragged, wild, half-broken colt, which he managed with a rope by way
+of halter.  He came clattering up to the school door with an invitation
+to Ichabod to attend a merry-making, or "quilting frolic," to be held
+that evening at Mynheer Van Tassel's; and having delivered his message
+with that air of importance, and effort at fine language, which a negro
+is apt to display on petty embassies of the kind, he dashed over the
+brook, and was seen scampering away up the hollow, full of the
+importance and hurry of his mission.
+
+All was now bustle and hubbub in the late quiet schoolroom.  The
+scholars were hurried through their lessons, without stopping at
+trifles; those who were nimble skipped over half with impunity, and
+those who were tardy had a smart application now and then in the rear,
+to quicken their speed, or help them over a tall word.  Books were
+flung aside, without being put away on the shelves; inkstands were
+overturned, benches thrown down, and the whole school was turned loose
+an hour before the usual time; bursting forth like a legion of young
+imps, yelping and racketing about the green, in joy at their early
+emancipation.
+
+The gallant Ichabod now spent at least an extra half-hour at his
+toilet, brushing and furbishing up his best, and indeed only suit of
+rusty black, and arranging his looks by a bit of broken looking-glass
+that hung up in the schoolhouse.  That he might make his appearance
+before his mistress in the true style of a cavalier, he borrowed a
+horse from the farmer with whom he was domiciliated, a choleric old
+Dutchman, of the name of Hans Van Ripper, and thus gallantly mounted,
+issued forth like a knight-errant in quest of adventures.  But it is
+meet I should, in the true spirit of romantic story, give some account
+of the looks and equipments of my hero and his steed.  The animal he
+bestrode was a broken-down plow-horse that had outlived almost
+everything but his viciousness.  He was gaunt and shagged, with a ewe
+neck and a head like a hammer; his rusty mane and tail were tangled and
+knotted with burrs; one eye had lost its pupil, and was glaring and
+spectral, but the other had the gleam of a genuine devil in it.  Still
+he must have had fire and mettle in his day, if we may judge from his
+name, which was Gunpowder.  He had, in fact, been a favorite steed of
+his master's, the choleric Van Ripper, who was a furious rider, and had
+infused, very probably, some of his own spirit into the animal; for,
+old and broken-down as he looked, there was more of the lurking devil
+in him than in any young filly in the country.
+
+Ichabod was a suitable figure for such a steed.  He rode with short
+stirrups, which brought his knees nearly up to the pommel of the
+saddle; his sharp elbows stuck out like grasshoppers'; he carried his
+whip perpendicularly in his hand, like a scepter, and as the horse
+jogged on, the motion of his arms was not unlike the flapping of a pair
+of wings.  A small wool hat rested on the top of his nose, for so his
+scanty strip of forehead might be called, and the skirts of his black
+coat fluttered out almost to the horse's tail.  Such was the appearance
+of Ichabod and his steed as they shambled out of the gate of Hans Van
+Ripper, and it was altogether such an apparition as is seldom to be met
+with in broad daylight.
+
+It was, as I have said, a fine autumnal day; the sky was clear and
+serene, and nature wore that rich and golden livery which we always
+associate with the idea of abundance.  The forests had put on their
+sober brown and yellow, while some trees of the tenderer kind had been
+nipped by the frosts into brilliant dyes of orange, purple, and
+scarlet.  Streaming files of wild ducks began to make their appearance
+high in the air; the bark of the squirrel might be heard from the
+groves of beech and hickory-nuts, and the pensive whistle of the quail
+at intervals from the neighboring stubble-field.
+
+The small birds were taking their farewell banquets.  In the fullness
+of their revelry, they fluttered, chirping and frolicking, from bush to
+bush and tree to tree, capricious from the very profusion and variety
+around them.  There was the honest cock-robin, the favorite game of
+stripling sportsmen, with its loud querulous note, and the twittering
+blackbirds flying in sable clouds; and the golden-winged woodpecker,
+with his crimson crest, his broad black gorget and splendid plumage;
+and the cedar-bird, with its red-tipped wings and yellow-tipped tail,
+and its little monteiro cap of feathers; and the blue jay, that noisy
+coxcomb, in his gay light blue coat and white underclothes, screaming
+and chattering, nodding, and bobbing, and bowing, and pretending to be
+on good terms with every songster of the grove.
+
+As Ichabod jogged slowly on his way, his eye, ever open to every
+symptom of culinary abundance, ranged with delight over the treasures
+of jolly autumn.  On all sides he beheld vast store of apples, some
+hanging in oppressive opulence on the trees, some gathered into baskets
+and barrels for the market, others heaped up in rich piles for the
+cider-press.  Further on he beheld great fields of Indian corn, with
+its golden ears peeping from their leafy coverts and holding out the
+promise of cakes and hasty-pudding; and the yellow pumpkins lying
+beneath them, turning up their fair round bellies to the sun, and
+giving ample prospects of the most luxurious of pies; and anon he
+passed the fragrant buckwheat fields, breathing the odor of the
+beehive, and as he beheld them, soft anticipations stole over his mind
+of dainty slap-jacks, well-buttered, and garnished with honey or
+treacle, by the delicate little dimpled hand of Katrina Van Tassel.
+
+Thus feeding his mind with many sweet thoughts and "sugared
+suppositions," he journeyed along the sides of a range of hills which
+look out upon some of the goodliest scenes of the mighty Hudson.  The
+sun gradually wheeled his broad disk down into the west.  The wide
+bosom of the Tappaan Zee lay motionless and glassy, excepting that here
+and there a gentle undulation waved and prolonged the blue shadow of
+the distant mountain.  A few amber clouds floated in the sky, without a
+breath of air to move them.  The horizon was of a fine golden tint,
+changing gradually into a pure apple green, and from that into the deep
+blue of the mid-heaven.  A slanting ray lingered on the woody crests of
+the precipices that overhung some parts of the river, giving greater
+depth to the dark gray and purple of their rocky sides.  A sloop was
+loitering in the distance, dropping slowly down with the tide, her sail
+hanging uselessly against the mast; and as the reflection of the sky
+gleamed along the still water, it seemed as if the vessel was suspended
+in the air.
+
+It was toward evening that Ichabod arrived at the castle of the Heer
+Van Tassel, which he found thronged with the pride and flower of the
+adjacent country.  Old farmers, a spare leathern-faced race, in
+homespun coats and breeches, blue stockings, huge shoes, and
+magnificent pewter buckles.  Their brisk, withered little dames, in
+close crimped caps, long-waisted gowns, homespun petticoats, with
+scissors and pin-cushions, and gay calico pockets hanging on the
+outside.  Buxom lasses, almost as antiquated as their mothers,
+excepting where a straw hat, a fine ribbon, or perhaps a white frock,
+gave symptoms of city innovations.  The sons, in short square-skirted
+coats, with rows of stupendous brass buttons, and their hair generally
+queued in the fashion of the times, especially if they could procure an
+eelskin for the purpose, it being esteemed throughout the country as a
+potent nourisher and strengthener of the hair.
+
+Brom Bones, however, was the hero of the scene, having come to the
+gathering on his favorite steed Daredevil, a creature, like himself,
+full of mettle and mischief, and which no one but himself could manage.
+He was, in fact, noted for preferring vicious animals, given to all
+kinds of tricks which kept the rider in constant risk of his neck, for
+he held a tractable well-broken horse as unworthy of a lad of spirit.
+
+Fain would I pause to dwell upon the world of charms that burst upon
+the enraptured gaze of my hero, as he entered the state parlor of Van
+Tassel's mansion.  Not those of the bevy of buxom lasses, with their
+luxurious display of red and white, but the ample charms of a genuine
+Dutch country tea-table, in the sumptuous time of autumn.  Such
+heaped-up platters of cakes of various and almost indescribable kinds,
+known only to experienced Dutch housewives!  There was the doughty
+doughnut, the tender oly-koek, and the crisp and crumbling cruller;
+sweet cakes and short cakes, ginger cakes and honey cakes, and the
+whole family of cakes.  And then there were apple pies, and peach pies,
+and pumpkin pies; besides slices of ham and smoked beef; and moreover
+delectable dishes of preserved plums, and peaches, and pears, and
+quinces; not to mention broiled shad and roasted chickens; together
+with bowls of milk and cream, all mingled higgledy-piggledy, pretty
+much as I have enumerated them, with the motherly teapot sending up its
+clouds of vapor from the midst--Heaven bless the mark!  I want breath
+and time to discuss this banquet as it deserves, and am too eager to
+get on with my story.  Happily, Ichabod Crane was not in so great a
+hurry as his historian, but did ample justice to every dainty.
+
+He was a kind and thankful creature, whose heart dilated in proportion
+as his skin was filled with good cheer, and whose spirits rose with
+eating, as some men's do with drink.  He could not help, too, rolling
+his large eyes round him as he ate, and chuckling with the possibility
+that he might one day be lord of all this scene of almost unimaginable
+luxury and splendor.  Then, he thought, how soon he'd turn his back
+upon the old schoolhouse; snap his fingers in the face of Hans Van
+Ripper, and every other niggardly patron, and kick any itinerant
+pedagogue out of doors that should dare to call him comrade!
+
+Old Baltus Van Tassel moved about among his guests with a face dilated
+with content and good-humor, round and jolly as the harvest moon.  His
+hospitable attentions were brief, but expressive, being confined to a
+shake of the hand, a slap on the shoulder, a loud laugh, and a pressing
+invitation to "fall to and help themselves."
+
+And now the sound of the music from the common room, or hall, summoned
+to the dance.  The musician was an old gray-headed negro, who had been
+the itinerant orchestra of the neighborhood for more than half a
+century.  His instrument was as old and battered as himself.  The
+greater part of the time he scraped away on two or three strings,
+accompanying every movement of the bow with a motion of the head;
+bowing almost to the ground, and stamping with his foot whenever a
+fresh couple were to start.
+
+Ichabod prided himself upon his dancing as much as upon his vocal
+powers.  Not a limb, not a fiber about him was idle; and to have seen
+his loosely hung frame in full motion, and clattering about the room,
+you would have thought St. Vitus himself, that blessed patron of the
+dance, was figuring before you in person.  He was the admiration of all
+the negroes; who, having gathered, of all ages and sizes, from the farm
+and the neighborhood, stood forming a pyramid of shining black faces at
+every door and window, gazing with delight at the scene, rolling their
+white eyeballs, and showing grinning rows of ivory from ear to ear.
+How could the flogger of urchins be otherwise than animated and
+joyous?--the lady of his heart was his partner in the dance, and
+smiling graciously in reply to all his amorous oglings; while Brom
+Bones, sorely smitten with love and jealousy, sat brooding by himself
+in one corner.
+
+When the dance was at an end, Ichabod was attracted to a knot of the
+sager folks, who, with Old Van Tassel, sat smoking at one end of the
+piazza, gossiping over former times, and drawling out long stories
+about the war.
+
+This neighborhood, at the time of which I am speaking, was one of those
+highly favored places which abound with chronicle and great men.  The
+British and American line had run near it during the war; it had,
+therefore, been the scene of marauding, and infested with refugees,
+cowboys, and all kind of border chivalry.  Just sufficient time had
+elapsed to enable each story-teller to dress up his tale with a little
+becoming fiction, and, in the indistinctness of his recollection, to
+make himself the hero of every exploit.
+
+There was the story of Doffue Martling, a large blue-bearded Dutchman,
+who had nearly taken a British frigate with an old iron nine-pounder
+from a mud breastwork, only that his gun burst at the sixth discharge.
+And there was an old gentleman who shall be nameless, being too rich a
+mynheer to be lightly mentioned, who, in the battle of White Plains,
+being an excellent master of defense, parried a musket-ball with a
+small-sword, insomuch that he absolutely felt it whiz round the blade
+and glance off at the hilt; in proof of which he was ready at any time
+to show the sword, with the hilt a little bent.  There were several
+more that had been equally great in the field, not one of whom but was
+persuaded that he had a considerable hand in bringing the war to a
+happy termination.
+
+But all these were nothing to the tales of ghosts and apparitions that
+succeeded.  The neighborhood is rich in legendary treasures of the
+kind.  Local tales and superstitions thrive best in these sheltered
+long-settled retreats; but are trampled under foot by the shifting
+throng that forms the population of most of our country places.
+Besides, there is no encouragement for ghosts in most of our villages,
+for they have scarcely had time to finish their first nap, and turn
+themselves in their graves, before their surviving friends have
+traveled away from the neighborhood: so that when they turn out at
+night to walk their rounds, they have no acquaintance left to call
+upon.  This is perhaps the reason why we so seldom hear of ghosts
+except in our long-established Dutch communities.
+
+The immediate cause, however, of the prevalence of supernatural stories
+in these parts was doubtless owing to the vicinity of Sleepy Hollow.
+There was a contagion in the very air that blew from that haunted
+region; it breathed forth an atmosphere of dreams and fancies infecting
+all the land.  Several of the Sleepy Hollow people were present at Van
+Tassel's, and, as usual, were doling out their wild and wonderful
+legends.  Many dismal tales were told about funeral trains, and
+mourning cries and wailings heard and seen about the great tree where
+the unfortunate Major Andre was taken, and which stood in the
+neighborhood.  Some mention was made also of the woman in white, that
+haunted the dark glen at Raven Rock, and was often heard to shriek on
+winter nights before a storm, having perished there in the snow.  The
+chief part of the stories, however, turned upon the favorite specter of
+Sleepy Hollow, the headless horseman, who had been heard several times
+of late, patrolling the country, and, it is said, tethered his horse
+nightly among the graves in the churchyard.
+
+The sequestered situation of this church seems always to have made it a
+favorite haunt of troubled spirits.  It stands on a knoll, surrounded
+by locust trees and lofty elms, from among which its decent,
+whitewashed walls shine modestly forth, like Christian purity, beaming
+through the shades of retirement.  A gentle slope descends from it to a
+silver sheet of water, bordered by high trees, between which peeps may
+be caught at the blue hills of the Hudson.  To look upon its
+grass-grown yard, where the sunbeams seem to sleep so quietly, one
+would think that there at least the dead might rest in peace.  On one
+side of the church extends a wide woody dell, along which raves a large
+brook among broken rocks and trunks of fallen trees.  Over a deep black
+part of the stream, not far from the church, was formerly thrown a
+wooden bridge; the road that led to it, and the bridge itself, were
+thickly shaded by overhanging trees, which cast a gloom about it, even
+in the daytime; but occasioned a fearful darkness at night.  Such was
+one of the favorite haunts of the headless horseman, and the place
+where he was most frequently encountered.  The tale was told of old
+Brouwer, a most heretical disbeliever in ghosts, how he met the
+horseman returning from his foray into Sleepy Hollow, and was obliged
+to get up behind him; how they galloped over bush and brake, over hill
+and swamp, until they reached the bridge; when the horseman suddenly
+turned into a skeleton, threw old Brouwer into the brook, and sprang
+away over the treetops with a clap of thunder.
+
+This story was immediately matched by a thrice marvelous adventure of
+Brom Bones, who made light of the galloping Hessian as an arrant
+jockey.  He affirmed that, on returning one night from the neighboring
+village of Sing Sing, he had been overtaken by this midnight trooper;
+that he had offered to race with him for a bowl of punch, and should
+have won it too, for Daredevil beat the goblin horse all hollow, but
+just as they came to the church bridge the Hessian bolted, and vanished
+in a flash of fire.
+
+All these tales, told in that drowsy undertone with which men talk in
+the dark, the countenances of the listeners only now and then receiving
+a casual gleam from the glare of a pipe, sunk deep in the mind of
+Ichabod.  He repaid them in kind with large extracts from his
+invaluable author, Cotton Mather, and added many marvelous events that
+had taken place in his native State of Connecticut, and fearful sights
+which he had seen in his nightly walks about Sleepy Hollow.
+
+The revel now gradually broke up.  The old farmers gathered together
+their families in their wagons, and were heard for some time rattling
+along the hollow roads, and over the distant hills.  Some of the
+damsels mounted on pillions behind their favorite swains, and their
+light-hearted laughter, mingling with the clatter of hoofs, echoed
+along the silent woodlands, sounding fainter and fainter, until they
+gradually died away--and the late scene of noise and frolic was all
+silent and deserted.  Ichabod only lingered behind, according to the
+custom of country lovers, to have a tete-a-tete with the heiress, fully
+convinced that he was now on the high road to success.  What passed at
+this interview I will not pretend to say, for in fact I do not know.
+Something, however, I fear me, must have gone wrong, for he certainly
+sallied forth, after no very great interval, with an air quite desolate
+and chapfallen.--Oh, these women! these women!  Could that girl have
+been playing off any of her coquettish tricks?--Was her encouragement
+of the poor pedagogue all a mere sham to secure her conquest of his
+rival?--Heaven only knows, not I!--Let it suffice to say, Ichabod stole
+forth with the air of one who had been sacking a hen-roost, rather than
+a fair lady's heart.  Without looking to the right or left to notice
+the scene of rural wealth on which he had so often gloated, he went
+straight to the stable, and with several hearty cuffs and kicks roused
+his steed most uncourteously from the comfortable quarters in which he
+was soundly sleeping, dreaming of mountains of corn and oats, and whole
+valleys of timothy and clover.
+
+It was the very witching time of night that Ichabod, heavy-hearted and
+crestfallen, pursued his travel homeward, along the sides of the lofty
+hills which rise above Tarry Town, and which he had traversed so
+cheerily in the afternoon.  The hour was as dismal as himself.  Far
+below him the Tappaan Zee spread its dusky and indistinct waste of
+waters, with here and there the tall mast of a sloop, riding quietly at
+anchor under the land.  In the dead hush of midnight he could even hear
+the barking of the watch-dog from the opposite shore of the Hudson; but
+it was so vague and faint as only to give an idea of his distance from
+this faithful companion of man.  Now and then, too, the long-drawn
+crowing of a cock, accidentally awakened, would sound far, far off,
+from some farmhouse away among the hills--but it was like a dreaming
+sound in his ear.  No signs of life occurred near him, but occasionally
+the melancholy chirp of a cricket, or perhaps the guttural twang of a
+bullfrog from a neighboring marsh, as if sleeping uncomfortably, and
+turning suddenly in his bed.
+
+All the stories of ghosts and goblins that he had heard in the
+afternoon now came crowding upon his recollection.  The night grew
+darker and darker, the stars seemed to sink deeper in the sky, and
+driving clouds occasionally hid them from his sight.  He had never felt
+so lonely and dismal.  He was, moreover, approaching the very place
+where many of the scenes of the ghost stories had been laid.  In the
+center of the road stood an enormous tulip tree, which towered like a
+giant above all the other trees of the neighborhood, and formed a kind
+of landmark.  Its limbs were gnarled and fantastic, large enough to
+form trunks for ordinary trees, twisting down almost to the earth, and
+rising again into the air.  It was connected with the tragical story of
+the unfortunate Andre, who had been taken prisoner hard by; and was
+universally known by the name of Major Andre's tree.  The common people
+regarded it with a mixture of respect and superstition, partly out of
+sympathy for the fate of its ill-starred namesake, and partly from the
+tales of strange sights and doleful lamentations told concerning it.
+
+As Ichabod approached this fearful tree he began to whistle; he thought
+his whistle was answered: it was but a blast sweeping sharply through
+the dry branches.  As he approached a little nearer, he thought he saw
+something white hanging in the midst of the tree: he paused, and ceased
+whistling; but, on looking more narrowly, perceived that it was a place
+where the tree had been scathed by lightning and the white wood laid
+bare.  Suddenly he heard a groan--his teeth chattered, and his knees
+smote against the saddle: it was but the rubbing of one huge bough upon
+another, as they were swayed about by the breeze.  He passed the tree
+in safety, but new perils lay before him.
+
+About two hundred yards from the tree a small brook crossed the road,
+and ran into a marshy and thickly wooded glen known by the name of
+Wiley's Swamp.  A few rough logs, laid side by side, served for a
+bridge over this stream.  On that side of the road where the brook
+entered the wood a group of oaks and chestnuts, matted thick with wild
+grape-vines, threw a cavernous gloom over it.  To pass this bridge was
+the severest trial.  It was at this identical spot that the unfortunate
+Andre was captured, and under the covert of those chestnuts and vines
+were the sturdy yeomen concealed who surprised him.  This has ever
+since been considered a haunted stream, and fearful are the feelings of
+a schoolboy who has to pass it alone after dark.
+
+As he approached the stream his heart began to thump; he summoned up,
+however, all his resolution, gave his horse half a score of kicks in
+the ribs, and attempted to dash briskly across the bridge; but instead
+of starting forward, the perverse old animal made a lateral movement,
+and ran broadside against the fence.  Ichabod, whose fears increased
+with the delay, jerked the reins on the other side, and kicked lustily
+with the contrary foot.  It was all in vain; his steed started, it is
+true, but it was only to plunge to the opposite side of the road into a
+thicket of brambles and alder-bushes.  The schoolmaster now bestowed
+both whip and heel upon the starveling ribs of old Gunpowder, who
+dashed forward, snuffling and snorting, but came to a stand just by the
+bridge with a suddenness that had nearly sent his rider sprawling over
+his head.  Just at this moment a plashy tramp by the side of the bridge
+caught the sensitive ear of Ichabod.  In the dark shadow of the grove,
+on the margin of the brook, he beheld something huge, misshapen, black
+and towering.  It stirred not, but seemed gathered up in the gloom,
+like some gigantic monster ready to spring upon the traveler.
+
+The hair of the affrighted pedagogue rose upon his head with terror.
+What was to be done?  To turn and fly was now too late; and besides,
+what chance was there of escaping ghost or goblin, if such it was,
+which could ride upon the wings of the wind?  Summoning up, therefore,
+a show of courage, he demanded in stammering accents--"Who are you?"
+He received no reply.  He repeated his demand in a still more agitated
+voice.  Still there was no answer.  Once more he cudgeled the sides of
+the inflexible Gunpowder, and shutting his eyes, broke forth with
+involuntary fervor into a psalm tune.  Just then the shadowy object of
+alarm put itself in motion, and with a scramble and a bound stood at
+once in the middle of the road.  Though the night was dark and dismal,
+yet the form of the unknown might now in some degree be ascertained.
+He appeared to be a horseman of large dimensions, and mounted on a
+black horse of powerful frame.  He made no offer of molestation or
+sociability, but kept aloof on one side of the road, jogging along on
+the blind side of old Gunpowder, who had now got over his fright and
+waywardness.
+
+Ichabod, who had no relish for this strange midnight companion, and
+bethought himself of the adventure of Brom Bones with the galloping
+Hessian, now quickened his steed, in hopes of leaving him behind.  The
+stranger, however, quickened his horse to an equal pace.  Ichabod
+pulled up, and fell into a walk, thinking to lag behind--the other did
+the same.  His heart began to sink within him; he endeavored to resume
+his psalm tune, but his parched tongue clove to the roof of his mouth,
+and he could not utter a stave.  There was something in the moody and
+dogged silence of this pertinacious companion that was mysterious and
+appalling.  It was soon fearfully accounted for.  On mounting a rising
+ground, which brought the figure of his fellow-traveler in relief
+against the sky, gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Ichabod
+was horror-struck, on perceiving that he was headless! but his horror
+was still more increased, on observing that the head, which should have
+rested on his shoulders, was carried before him on the pommel of his
+saddle!  His terror rose to desperation; he rained a shower of kicks
+and blows upon Gunpowder, hoping, by a sudden movement, to give his
+companion the slip--but the specter started full jump with him.  Away,
+then, they dashed through thick and thin; stones flying and sparks
+flashing at every bound.  Ichabod's flimsy garments fluttered in the
+air, as he stretched his long lank body away over his horse's head, in
+the eagerness of his flight.
+
+They had now reached the road which turns off to Sleepy Hollow; but
+Gunpowder, who seemed possessed with a demon, instead of keeping up it,
+made an opposite turn, and plunged headlong downhill to the left.  This
+road leads through a sandy hollow, shaded by trees for about a quarter
+of a mile, where it crosses the bridge famous in goblin story; and just
+beyond swells the green knoll on which stands the whitewashed church.
+
+As yet the panic of the steed had given his unskillful rider an
+apparent advantage in the chase; but just as he had got half-way
+through the hollow, the girths of the saddle gave way, and he felt it
+slipping from under him.  He seized it by the pommel, and endeavored to
+hold it firm, but in vain; and had just time to save himself by
+clasping old Gunpowder round the neck, when the saddle fell to the
+earth, and he heard it trampled under foot by his pursuer.  For a
+moment the terror of Hans Van Ripper's wrath passed across his
+mind--for it was his Sunday saddle; but this was no time for petty
+fears: the goblin was hard on his haunches; and (unskillful rider that
+he was!) he had much ado to maintain his seat; sometimes slipping on
+one side, sometimes on another, and sometimes jolted on the high ridge
+of his horse's backbone, with a violence that he verily feared would
+cleave him asunder.
+
+An opening in the trees now cheered him with the hopes that the church
+bridge was at hand.  The wavering reflection of a silver star in the
+bosom of the brook told him that he was not mistaken.  He saw the walls
+of the church dimly glaring under the trees beyond.  He recollected the
+place where Brom Bones's ghostly competitor had disappeared.  "If I can
+but reach that bridge," thought Ichabod, "I am safe."  Just then he
+heard the black steed panting and blowing close behind him; he even
+fancied that he felt his hot breath.  Another convulsive kick in the
+ribs, and old Gunpowder sprung upon the bridge; he thundered over the
+resounding planks; he gained the opposite side, and now Ichabod cast a
+look behind to see if his pursuer should vanish, according to rule, in
+a flash of fire and brimstone.  Just then he saw the goblin rising in
+his stirrups, and in the very act of hurling his head at him.  Ichabod
+endeavored to dodge the horrible missile, but too late.  It encountered
+his cranium with a tremendous crash--he was tumbled headlong into the
+dust, and Gunpowder, the black steed, and the goblin rider, passed by
+like a whirlwind.
+
+The next morning the old horse was found without his saddle, and with
+the bridle under his feet, soberly cropping the grass at his master's
+gate.  Ichabod did not make his appearance at breakfast--dinner-hour
+came, but no Ichabod.  The boys assembled at the schoolhouse, and
+strolled idly about the banks of the brook; but no schoolmaster.  Hans
+Van Ripper now began to feel some uneasiness about the fate of poor
+Ichabod, and his saddle.  An inquiry was set on foot, and after
+diligent investigation they came upon his traces.  In one part of the
+road leading to the church was found the saddle trampled in the dirt;
+the tracks of horses' hoofs deeply dented in the road, and evidently at
+furious speed, were traced to the bridge, beyond which, on the bank of
+a broad part of the brook, where the water ran deep and black, was
+found the hat of the unfortunate Ichabod, and close beside it a
+shattered pumpkin.
+
+The brook was searched, but the body of the schoolmaster was not to be
+discovered.  Hans Van Ripper, as executor of his estate, examined the
+bundle which contained all his worldly effects.  They consisted of two
+shirts and a half; two stocks for the neck; a pair or two of worsted
+stockings; an old pair of corduroy small-clothes; a rusty razor; a book
+of psalm tunes full of dog's ears; and a broken pitch-pipe.  As to the
+books and furniture of the schoolhouse, they belonged to the community,
+excepting Cotton Mather's "History of Witchcraft," a New England
+Almanac, and a book of dreams and fortune-telling; in which last was a
+sheet of foolscap much scribbled and blotted, by several fruitless
+attempts to make a copy of verses in honor of the heiress of Van
+Tassel.  These magic books and the poetic scrawl were forthwith
+consigned to the flames by Hans Van Ripper; who, from that time
+forward, determined to send his children no more to school; observing
+that he never knew any good come of this same reading and writing.
+Whatever money the schoolmaster possessed, and he had received his
+quarter's pay but a day or two before, he must have had about his
+person at the time of his disappearance.
+
+The mysterious event caused much speculation at the church on the
+following Sunday.  Knots of gazers and gossips were collected in the
+churchyard, at the bridge, and at the spot where the hat and pumpkin
+had been found.  The stories of Brouwer, of Bones, and a whole budget
+of others, were called to mind; and when they had diligently considered
+them all, and compared them with the symptoms of the present case, they
+shook their heads, and came to the conclusion that Ichabod had been
+carried off by the galloping Hessian.  As he was a bachelor, and in
+nobody's debt, nobody troubled his head any more about him; the school
+was removed to a different quarter of the Hollow, and another pedagogue
+reigned in his stead.
+
+It is true, an old farmer, who had been down to New York on a visit
+several years after, and from whom this account of the ghostly
+adventure was received, brought home the intelligence that Ichabod
+Crane was still alive; that he had left the neighborhood partly through
+fear of the goblin and Hans Van Ripper, and partly in mortification at
+having been suddenly dismissed by the heiress; that he had changed his
+quarters to a distant part of the country; had kept school and studied
+law at the same time; had been admitted to the bar; turned politician;
+electioneered; written for the newspapers; and finally had been made a
+Justice of the Ten Pound Court.  Brom Bones too, who, shortly after his
+rival's disappearance, conducted the blooming Katrina in triumph to the
+altar, was observed to look exceedingly knowing whenever the story of
+Ichabod was related, and always burst into a hearty laugh at the
+mention of the pumpkin; which led some to suspect that he knew more
+about the matter than he chose to tell.
+
+The old country wives, however, who are the best judges of these
+matters, maintain to this day that Ichabod was spirited away by
+supernatural means; and it is a favorite story often told about the
+neighborhood round the winter evening fire.  The bridge became more
+than ever an object of superstitious awe; and that may be the reason
+why the road has been altered of late years, so as to approach the
+church by the border of the mill-pond.  The schoolhouse being deserted,
+soon fell to decay, and was reported to be haunted by the ghost of the
+unfortunate pedagogue; and the plow-boy, loitering homeward of a still
+summer evening, has often fancied his voice at a distance, chanting a
+melancholy psalm tune among the tranquil solitudes of Sleepy Hollow.
+
+
+POSTSCRIPT
+
+FOUND IN THE HANDWRITING OF MR. KNICKERBOCKER
+
+The preceding Tale is given, almost in the precise words in which I
+heard it related at a Corporation meeting of the ancient city of the
+Manhattoes,[2] at which were present many of its sagest and most
+illustrious burghers.  The narrator was a pleasant, shabby, gentlemanly
+old fellow in pepper-and-salt clothes, with a sadly humorous face; and
+one whom I strongly suspected of being poor--he made such efforts to be
+entertaining.  When his story was concluded there was much laughter and
+approbation, particularly from two or three deputy aldermen, who had
+been asleep the greater part of the time.  There was, however, one
+tall, dry-looking old gentleman, with beetling eyebrows, who maintained
+a grave and rather severe face throughout; now and then folding his
+arms, inclining his head, and looking down upon the floor, as if
+turning a doubt over in his mind.  He was one of your wary men, who
+never laugh but upon good grounds--when they have reason and the law on
+their side.  When the mirth of the rest of the company had subsided,
+and silence was restored, he leaned one arm on the elbow of his chair,
+and sticking the other a-kimbo, demanded, with a slight but exceedingly
+sage motion of the head and contraction of the brow, what was the moral
+of the story, and what it went to prove.
+
+The story-teller, who was just putting a glass of wine to his lips, as
+a refreshment after his toils, paused for a moment, looked at his
+inquirer with an air of infinite deference, and lowering the glass
+slowly to the table, observed that the story was intended most
+logically to prove:
+
+"That there is no situation in life but has its advantages and
+pleasures--provided we will but take a joke as we find it;
+
+"That, therefore, he that runs races with goblin troopers is likely to
+have rough riding of it;
+
+"Ergo, for a country schoolmaster to be refused the hand of a Dutch
+heiress is a certain step to high preferment in the State."
+
+The cautious old gentleman knit his brows tenfold closer after this
+explanation, being sorely puzzled by the ratiocination of the
+syllogism; while, methought, the one in pepper-and-salt eyed him with
+something of a triumphant leer.  At length he observed, that all this
+was very well, but still he thought the story a little on the
+extravagant--there were one or two points on which he had his doubts:
+
+"Faith, sir," replied the story-teller, "as to that matter, I don't
+believe one-half of it myself."
+
+D. K.
+
+
+
+[1] The whip-poor-will is a bird which is only heard at night.  It
+receives its name from its note, which is thought to resemble those
+words.
+
+[2] New York.
+
+
+
+
+THE GOLD-BUG
+
+By EDGAR ALLAN POE
+
+  What ho! what ho! this fellow is dancing mad!
+  He hath been bitten by the Tarantula.
+          --_All in the Wrong_
+
+
+Many years ago, I contracted an intimacy with a Mr. William Legrand.
+He was of an ancient Huguenot family, and had once been wealthy; but a
+series of misfortunes had reduced him to want.  To avoid the
+mortification consequent upon his disasters, he left New Orleans, the
+city of his forefathers, and took up his residence at Sullivan's
+Island, near Charleston, South Carolina.
+
+This island is a very singular one.  It consists of little else than
+the sea sand, and is about three miles long.  Its breadth at no point
+exceeds a quarter of a mile.  It is separated from the mainland by a
+scarcely perceptible creek, oozing its way through a wilderness of
+reeds and slime, a favorite resort of the marsh-hen.  The vegetation,
+as might be supposed, is scant, or at least dwarfish.  No trees of any
+magnitude are to be seen.  Near the western extremity, where Fort
+Moultrie stands, and where are some miserable frame buildings,
+tenanted, during the summer, by the fugitives from Charleston dust and
+fever, may be found, indeed, the bristly palmetto; but the whole
+island, with the exception of this western point, and a line of hard,
+white beach on the seacoast, is covered with a dense undergrowth of the
+sweet myrtle so much prized by the horticulturists of England.  The
+shrub here often attains the height of fifteen or twenty feet, and
+forms an almost impenetrable coppice, burdening the air with its
+fragrance.
+
+In the inmost recesses of this coppice, not far from the eastern or
+more remote end of the island, Legrand had built himself a small hut,
+which he occupied when I first, by mere accident, made his
+acquaintance.  This soon ripened into friendship--for there was much in
+the recluse to excite interest and esteem.  I found him well educated,
+with unusual powers of mind, but infected with misanthropy, and subject
+to perverse moods of alternate enthusiasm and melancholy.  He had with
+him many books, but rarely employed them.  His chief amusements were
+gunning and fishing, or sauntering along the beach and through the
+myrtles, in quest of shells or entomological specimens--his collection
+of the latter might have been envied by a Swammerdamm.  In these
+excursions he was usually accompanied by an old negro, called Jupiter,
+who had been manumitted before the reverses of the family, but who
+could be induced, neither by threats nor by promises, to abandon what
+he considered his right of attendance upon the footsteps of his young
+"Massa Will."  It is not improbable that the relatives of Legrand,
+conceiving him to be somewhat unsettled in intellect, had contrived to
+instil this obstinacy into Jupiter, with a view to the supervision and
+guardianship of the wanderer.
+
+The winters in the latitude of Sullivan's Island are seldom very
+severe, and in the fall of the year it is a rare event indeed when a
+fire is considered necessary.  About the middle of October, 18--, there
+occurred, however, a day of remarkable chilliness.  Just before sunset
+I scrambled my way through the evergreens to the hut of my friend, whom
+I had not visited for several weeks--my residence being, at that time,
+in Charleston, a distance of nine miles from the island, while the
+facilities of passage and re-passage were very far behind those of the
+present day.  Upon reaching the hut I rapped, as was my custom, and
+getting no reply, sought for the key where I knew it was secreted,
+unlocked the door, and went in.  A fine fire was blazing upon the
+hearth.  It was a novelty, and by no means an ungrateful one.  I threw
+off an overcoat, took an armchair by the crackling logs, and awaited
+patiently the arrival of my hosts.
+
+Soon after dark they arrived, and gave me a most cordial welcome.
+Jupiter, grinning from ear to ear, bustled about to prepare some
+marsh-hens for supper.  Legrand was in one of his fits--how else shall
+I term them?--of enthusiasm.  He had found an unknown bivalve, forming
+a new genus, and, more than this, he had hunted down and secured, with
+Jupiter's assistance, a _scarabaeus_ which he believed to be totally
+new, but in respect to which he wished to have my opinion on the morrow.
+
+"And why not to-night?" I asked, rubbing my hands over the blaze, and
+wishing the whole tribe of _scarabaei_ at the devil.
+
+"Ah, if I had only known you were here!" said Legrand, "but it's so
+long since I saw you; and how could I foresee that you would pay me a
+visit this very night, of all others?  As I was coming home I met
+Lieutenant G----, from the fort, and, very foolishly, I lent him the
+bug; so it will be impossible for you to see it until the morning.
+Stay here to-night, and I will send Jup down for it at sunrise.  It is
+the loveliest thing in creation!"
+
+"What?--sunrise?"
+
+"Nonsense! no!--the bug.  It is of a brilliant gold color--about the
+size of a large hickory-nut--with two jet-black spots near one
+extremity of the back, and another, somewhat longer, at the other.  The
+_antennae_ are--"
+
+"Dey ain't no tin in him, Massa Will, I keep a tellin' on you," here
+interrupted Jupiter; "de bug is a goole-bug, solid, ebery bit of him,
+inside and all, sep him wing--neber feel half so hebby a bug in my
+life."
+
+"Well, suppose it is, Jup," replied Legrand, somewhat more earnestly,
+it seemed to me, than the case demanded; "is that any reason for your
+letting the birds burn?  The color--" here he turned to me--"is really
+almost enough to warrant Jupiter's idea.  You never saw a more
+brilliant metallic lustre than the scales emit--but of this you cannot
+judge till to-morrow.  In the meantime I can give you some idea of the
+shape."  Saying this, he seated himself at a small table, on which were
+a pen and ink, but no paper.  He looked for some in a drawer, but found
+none.
+
+"Never mind," he said at length, "this will answer;" and he drew from
+his waistcoat pocket a scrap of what I took to be very dirty foolscap,
+and made upon it a rough drawing with the pen.  While he did this, I
+retained my seat by the fire, for I was still chilly.  When the design
+was complete, he handed it to me without rising.  As I received it, a
+loud growl was heard, succeeded by a scratching at the door.  Jupiter
+opened it, and a large Newfoundland, belonging to Legrand, rushed in,
+leaped upon my shoulders, and loaded me with caresses; for I had shown
+him much attention during previous visits.  When his gambols were over,
+I looked at the paper, and, to speak the truth, found myself not a
+little puzzled at what my friend had depicted.
+
+"Well!" I said, after contemplating it for some minutes, "this _is_ a
+strange _scarabaeus_, I must confess; new to me; never saw anything
+like it before--unless it was a skull, or a death's-head, which it more
+nearly resembles than anything else that has come under _my_
+observation."
+
+"A death's-head!" echoed Legrand.  "Oh--yes well, it has something of
+that appearance upon paper, no doubt.  The two upper black spots look
+like eyes, eh? and the longer one at the bottom like a mouth--and then
+the shape of the whole is oval."
+
+"Perhaps so," said I; "but, Legrand, I fear you are no artist.  I must
+wait until I see the beetle itself, if I am to form any idea of its
+personal appearance."
+
+"Well, I don't know," said he, a little nettled, "I draw
+tolerably--_should_ do it at least--have had good masters, and flatter
+myself that I am not quite a blockhead."
+
+"But, my dear fellow, you are joking, then," said I; "this is a very
+passable _skull_--indeed, I may say that it is a very _excellent_
+skull, according to the vulgar notions about such specimens of
+physiology--and your _scarabaeus_ must be the queerest _scarabaeus_ in
+the world if it resembles it.  Why, we may get up a very thrilling bit
+of superstition upon this hint.  I presume you will call the bug
+_scarabaeus caput hominis_, or something of that kind--there are many
+similar titles in the Natural Histories.  But where are the _antennae_
+you spoke of?"
+
+"The _antennae_!" said Legrand, who seemed to be getting unaccountably
+warm upon the subject; "I am sure you must see the _antennae_.  I made
+them as distinct as they are in the original insect, and I presume that
+is sufficient."
+
+"Well, well," I said, "perhaps you have--still I don't see them;" and I
+handed him the paper without additional remark, not wishing to ruffle
+his temper; but I was much surprised at the turn affairs had taken; his
+ill humor puzzled me--and, as for the drawing of the beetle, there were
+positively _no antennae_ visible, and the whole did bear a very close
+resemblance to the ordinary cuts of a death's-head.
+
+He received the paper very peevishly, and was about to crumple it,
+apparently to throw it in the fire, when a casual glance at the design
+seemed suddenly to rivet his attention.  In an instant his face grew
+violently red--in another excessively pale.  For some minutes he
+continued to scrutinize the drawing minutely where he sat.  At length
+he arose, took a candle from the table, and proceeded to seat himself
+upon a sea-chest in the furthest corner of the room.  Here again he
+made an anxious examination of the paper; turning it in all directions.
+He said nothing, however, and his conduct greatly astonished me; yet I
+thought it prudent not to exacerbate the growing moodiness of his
+temper by any comment.  Presently he took from his coat-pocket a
+wallet, placed the paper carefully in it, and deposited both in a
+writing-desk, which he locked.  He now grew more composed in his
+demeanor; but his original air of enthusiasm had quite disappeared.
+Yet he seemed not so much sulky as abstracted.  As the evening wore
+away he became more and more absorbed in revery, from which no sallies
+of mine could arouse him.  It had been my intention to pass the night
+at the hut, as I had frequently done before, but, seeing my host in
+this mood, I deemed it proper to take leave.  He did not press me to
+remain, but, as I departed, he shook my hand with even more than his
+usual cordiality.
+
+It was about a month after this (and during the interval I had seen
+nothing of Legrand) when I received a visit, at Charleston, from his
+man, Jupiter.  I had never seen the good old negro look so dispirited,
+and I feared that some serious disaster had befallen my friend.
+
+"Well, Jup," said I, "what is the matter now?--how is your master?"
+
+"Why, to speak de troof, massa, him not so berry well as mought be."
+
+"Not well!  I am truly sorry to hear it.  What does he complain of?"
+
+"Dar! dat's it!--him neber 'plain of notin'--but him berry sick for all
+dat."
+
+"_Very_ sick, Jupiter!--why didn't you say so at once?  Is he confined
+to bed?"
+
+"No, dat he aint--he aint 'fin'd nowhar--dat's just whar de shoe
+pinch--my mind is got to be berry hebby 'bout poor Massa Will."
+
+"Jupiter, I should like to understand what it is you are talking about.
+You say your master is sick.  Hasn't he told you what ails him?"
+
+"Why, massa, 'taint worf while for to git mad about de matter--Massa
+Will say noffin at all aint de matter wid him--but den what make him go
+about looking dis here way, wid he head down and he soldiers up, and as
+white as a goose?  And den he keep a syphon all de time--"
+
+"Keeps a what, Jupiter?"
+
+"Keeps a syphon wid de figgurs on de slate--de queerest figgurs I ebber
+did see.  Ise gittin' to be skeered, I tell you.  Hab for to keep
+mighty tight eye 'pon him 'noovers.  Todder day he gib me slip 'fore de
+sun up and was gone de whole ob de blessed day.  I had a big stick
+ready cut for to gib him deuced good beating when he did come--but Ise
+sich a fool dat I hadn't de heart arter all--he looked so berry poorly."
+
+"Eh?--what?--ah yes!--upon the whole I think you had better not be too
+severe with the poor fellow--don't flog him, Jupiter--he can't very
+well stand it--but can you form no idea of what has occasioned this
+illness, or rather this change of conduct?  Has anything unpleasant
+happened since I saw you?"
+
+"No, massa, dey aint bin noffin onpleasant _since_ den--'twas _'fore_
+den I'm feared--'twas de berry day you was dare."
+
+"How? what do you mean?"
+
+"Why, massa, I mean de bug--dare now."
+
+"The what?"
+
+"De bug--I'm berry sartin dat Massa Will bin bit somewhere 'bout de
+head by dat goole-bug."
+
+"And what cause have you, Jupiter, for such a supposition?"
+
+"Claws enuff, massa, and mouff, too.  I nebber did see sich a deuced
+bug--he kick and he bite ebery ting what cum near him.  Massa Will
+cotch him fuss, but had for to let him go 'gin mighty quick, I tell
+you--den was de time he must ha' got de bite.  I didn't like de look ob
+de bug mouff, myself, nohow, so I wouldn't take hold ob him wid my
+finger, but I cotch him wid a piece ob paper dat I found.  I rap him up
+in de paper and stuff a piece of it in he mouff--dat was de way."
+
+"And you think, then, that your master was really bitten by the beetle,
+and that the bite made him sick?"
+
+"I don't think noffin about it--I nose it.  What make him dream 'bout
+de goole so much, if 'taint cause he bit by the goole-bug?  Ise heered
+'bout dem goole-bugs 'fore dis."
+
+"But how do you know he dreams about gold?"
+
+"How I know? why, 'cause he talk about it in he sleep--dat's how I
+nose."
+
+"Well, Jup, perhaps you are right; but to what fortunate circumstance
+am I to attribute the honor of a visit from you to-day?"
+
+"What de matter, massa?"
+
+"Did you bring any message from Mr. Legrand?"
+
+"No, massa, I bring dis here pissel;" and here Jupiter handed me a note
+which ran thus:
+
+
+"My Dear--: Why have I not seen you for so long a time?  I hope you
+have not been so foolish as to take offence at any little brusquerie of
+mine; but no, that is improbable.
+
+"Since I saw you I have had great cause for anxiety.  I have something
+to tell you, yet scarcely know how to tell it, or whether I should tell
+it at all.
+
+"I have not been quite well for some days past, and poor old Jup annoys
+me, almost beyond endurance, by his well-meant attentions.  Would you
+believe it?--he had prepared a huge stick, the other day, with which to
+chastise me for giving him the slip, and spending the day, solus, among
+the hills on the main land.  I verily believe that my ill looks alone
+saved me a flogging.
+
+"I have made no addition to my cabinet since we met.
+
+"If you can, in any way, make it convenient, come over with Jupiter.
+Do come.  I wish to see you to-night, upon business of importance.  I
+assure you that it is of the highest importance.
+
+"Ever yours,
+  "William Legrand."
+
+
+There was something in the tone of this note which gave me great
+uneasiness.  Its whole style differed materially from that of Legrand.
+What could he be dreaming of?  What new crotchet possessed his
+excitable brain?  What "business of the highest importance" could he
+possibly have to transact?  Jupiter's account of him boded no good.  I
+dreaded lest the continued pressure of misfortune had, at length,
+fairly unsettled the reason of my friend.  Without a moment's
+hesitation, therefore, I prepared to accompany the negro.
+
+Upon reaching the wharf, I noticed a scythe and three spades, all
+apparently new, lying in the bottom of the boat in which we were to
+embark.
+
+"What is the meaning of all this, Jup?" I inquired.
+
+"Him syfe, massa, and spade."
+
+"Very true; but what are they doing here?"
+
+"Him de syfe and de spade what Massa Will sis pon my buying for him in
+de town, and de debbil's own lot of money I had to gib for 'em."
+
+"But what, in the name of all that is mysterious, is your 'Massa Will'
+going to do with scythes and spades?"
+
+"Dat's more dan _I_ know, and debbil take me if I don't b'lieve 'tis
+more dan he know, too.  But it's all cum ob de bug."
+
+Finding that no satisfaction was to be obtained of Jupiter, whose whole
+intellect seemed to be absorbed by "de bug," I now stepped into the
+boat, and made sail.  With a fair and strong breeze we soon ran into
+the little cove to the northward of Port Moultrie, and a walk of some
+two miles brought us to the hut.  It was about three in the afternoon
+when we arrived.  Legrand had been awaiting us in eager expectation.
+He grasped my hand with a nervous _empressement_ which alarmed me and
+strengthened the suspicions already entertained.  His countenance was
+pale even to ghastliness, and his deep-set eyes glared with unnatural
+lustre.  After some inquiries respecting his health, I asked him, not
+knowing what better to say, if he had yet obtained the _scarabaeus_
+from Lieutenant G----.
+
+"Oh, yes," he replied, coloring violently, "I got it from him the next
+morning.  Nothing should tempt me to part with that _scarabaeus_.  Do
+you know that Jupiter is quite right about it?"
+
+"In what way?" I asked, with a sad foreboding at heart.
+
+"In supposing it to be a bug of real gold."  He said this with an air
+of profound seriousness, and I felt inexpressibly shocked.
+
+"This bug is to make my fortune," he continued, with a triumphant
+smile; "to reinstate me in my family possessions.  Is it any wonder,
+then, that I prize it?  Since Fortune has thought fit to bestow it upon
+me, I have only to use it properly, and I shall arrive at the gold of
+which it is the index.  Jupiter, bring me that _scarabaeus_!"
+
+"What! de bug, massa?  I'd rudder not go fer trubble dat bug; you mus'
+git him for your own self."  Hereupon Legrand arose, with a grave and
+stately air, and brought me the beetle from a glass case in which it
+was enclosed.  It was a beautiful _scarabaeus_, and, at that time,
+unknown to naturalists--of course a great prize in a scientific point
+of view.  There were two round black spots near one extremity of the
+back, and a long one near the other.  The scales were exceedingly hard
+and glossy, with all the appearance of burnished gold.  The weight of
+the insect was very remarkable, and, taking all things into
+consideration, I could hardly blame Jupiter for his opinion respecting
+it; but what to make of Legrand's concordance with that opinion, I
+could not, for the life of me, tell.
+
+"I sent for you," said he, in a grandiloquent tone, when I had
+completed my examination of the beetle, "I sent for you that I might
+have your counsel and assistance in furthering the views of Fate and of
+the frag--"
+
+"My dear Legrand," I cried, interrupting him, "you are certainly
+unwell, and had better use some little precautions.  You shall go to
+bed, and I will remain with you a few days, until you get over this.
+You are feverish and--"
+
+"Feel my pulse," said he.
+
+I felt it, and to say the truth, found not the slightest indication of
+fever.
+
+"But you may be ill and yet have no fever.  Allow me this once to
+prescribe for you.  In the first place, go to bed.  In the next--"
+
+"You are mistaken," he interposed, "I am as well as I can expect to be
+under the excitement which I suffer.  If you really wish me well, you
+will relieve this excitement."
+
+"And how is this to be done?"
+
+"Very easily.  Jupiter and myself are going upon an expedition into the
+hills, upon the mainland, and, in this expedition, we shall need the
+aid of some person in whom we can confide.  You are the only one we can
+trust.  Whether we succeed or fail, the excitement which you now
+perceive in me will be equally allayed."
+
+"I am anxious to oblige you in any way," I replied; "but do you mean to
+say that this infernal beetle has any connection with your expedition
+into the hills?"
+
+"It has."
+
+"Then, Legrand, I can become a party to no such absurd proceeding."
+
+"I am sorry--very sorry--for we shall have to try it by ourselves."
+
+"Try it by yourselves!  The man is surely mad!--but stay!--how long do
+you propose to be absent?"
+
+"Probably all night.  We shall start immediately, and be back, at all
+events, by sunrise."
+
+"And will you promise me, upon your honor, that when this freak of
+yours is over, and the bug business (good God!) settled to your
+satisfaction, you will then return home and follow my advice
+implicitly, as that of your physician?"
+
+"Yes; I promise; and now let us be off, for we have no time to lose."
+
+With a heavy heart I accompanied my friend.  We started about four
+o'clock--Legrand, Jupiter, the dog, and myself.  Jupiter had with him
+the scythe and spades--the whole of which he insisted upon
+carrying--more through fear, it seemed to me, of trusting either of the
+implements within reach of his master, than from any excess of industry
+or complaisance.  His demeanor was dogged in the extreme, and "dat
+deuced bug" were the sole words which escaped his lips during the
+journey.  For my own part, I had charge of a couple of dark lanterns,
+while Legrand contented himself with the _scarabaeus_, which he carried
+attached to the end of a bit of whip-cord; twirling it to and fro, with
+the air of a conjurer, as he went.  When I observed this last, plain
+evidence of my friend's aberration of mind, I could scarcely refrain
+from tears.  I thought it best, however, to humor his fancy, at least
+for the present, or until I could adopt some more energetic measures
+with a chance of success.  In the meantime I endeavored, but all in
+vain, to sound him in regard to the object of the expedition.  Having
+succeeded in inducing me to accompany him, he seemed unwilling to hold
+conversation upon any topic of minor importance, and to all my
+questions vouchsafed no other reply than "we shall see!"
+
+We crossed the creek at the head of the island by means of a skiff,
+and, ascending the high grounds on the shore of the main land,
+proceeded in a northwesterly direction, through a tract of country
+excessively wild and desolate, where no trace of a human footstep was
+to be seen.  Legrand led the way with decision; pausing only for an
+instant, here and there, to consult what appeared to be certain
+landmarks of his own contrivance upon a former occasion.
+
+In this manner we journeyed for about two hours, and the sun was just
+setting when we entered a region infinitely more dreary than any yet
+seen.  It was a species of table-land, near the summit of an almost
+inaccessible hill, densely wooded from base to pinnacle, and
+interspersed with huge crags that appeared to lie loosely upon the
+soil, and in many cases were prevented from precipitating themselves
+into the valleys below, merely by the support of the trees against
+which they reclined.  Deep ravines, in various directions, gave an air
+of still sterner solemnity to the scene.
+
+The natural platform to which we had clambered was thickly overgrown
+with brambles, through which we soon discovered that it would have been
+impossible to force our way but for the scythe; and Jupiter, by
+direction of his master, proceeded to clear for us a path to the foot
+of an enormously tall tulip-tree, which stood, with some eight or ten
+oaks, upon the level, and far surpassed them all, and all other trees
+which I had then ever seen, in the beauty of its foliage and form, in
+the wide spread of its branches, and in the general majesty of its
+appearance.  When we reached this tree, Legrand turned to Jupiter, and
+asked him if he thought he could climb it.  The old man seemed a little
+staggered by the question, and for some moments made no reply.  At
+length he approached the huge trunk, walked slowly around it and
+examined it with minute attention.  When he had completed his scrutiny,
+he merely said:
+
+"Yes, massa, Jup climb any tree he eber see in he life."
+
+"Then up with you as soon as possible for it will soon be too dark to
+see what we are about."
+
+"How far mus' go up, massa?" inquired Jupiter.
+
+"Get up the main trunk first, and then I will tell you which way to
+go--and here--stop! take this beetle with you."
+
+"De bug, Massa Will!--de goole-bug!" cried the negro, drawing back in
+dismay--"what for mus tote de bug way up de tree?--d--n if I do!"
+
+"If you are afraid, Jup, a great big negro like you, to take hold of a
+harmless little dead beetle, why you can carry it up by this
+string--but, if you do not take it up with you in some way, I shall be
+under the necessity of breaking your head with this shovel."
+
+"What de matter now, massa?" said Jup, evidently shamed into
+compliance; "always want for to raise fuss wid old nigger.  Was only
+funnin, anyhow.  Me feered de bug! what I keer for de bug?"  Here he
+took cautiously hold of the extreme end of the string, and, maintaining
+the insect as far from his person as circumstances would permit,
+prepared to ascend the tree.
+
+In youth, the tulip-tree, or _Liriodendron Tulipiferum_, the most
+magnificent of American foresters, has a trunk peculiarly smooth, and
+often rises to a great height without lateral branches; but, in its
+riper age, the bark becomes gnarled and uneven, while many short limbs
+make their appearance on the stem.  Thus the difficulty of ascension,
+in the present case, lay more in semblance than in reality.  Embracing
+the huge cylinder, as closely as possible with his arms and knees,
+seizing with his hands some projections, and resting his naked toes
+upon others, Jupiter, after one or two narrow escapes from falling, at
+length wriggled himself into the first great fork, and seemed to
+consider the whole business as virtually accomplished.  The _risk_ of
+the achievement was, in fact, now over, although the climber was some
+sixty or seventy feet from the ground.
+
+"Which way mus go now, Massa Will?" he asked.
+
+"Keep up the largest branch--the one on this side," said Legrand.  The
+negro obeyed him promptly, and apparently with but little trouble;
+ascending higher and higher, until no glimpse of his squat figure could
+be obtained through the dense foliage which enveloped it.  Presently
+his voice was heard in a sort of halloo.
+
+"How much fudder is got for go?"
+
+"How high up are you?" asked Legrand.
+
+"Ebber so fur," replied the negro; "can see de sky fru de top ob de
+tree."
+
+"Never mind the sky, but attend to what I say.  Look down the trunk and
+count the limbs below you on this side.  How many limbs have you
+passed?"
+
+"One, two, tree, four, fibe--I done pass fibe big limb, massa, 'pon dis
+side."
+
+"Then go one limb higher."
+
+In a few minutes the voice was heard again, announcing that the seventh
+limb was attained.
+
+"Now, Jup," cried Legrand, evidently much excited, "I want you to work
+your way out upon that limb as far as you can.  If you see anything
+strange let me know."
+
+By this time what little doubt I might have entertained of my poor
+friend's insanity was put finally at rest.  I had no alternative but to
+conclude him stricken with lunacy, and I became seriously anxious about
+getting him home.  While I was pondering upon what was best to be done,
+Jupiter's voice was again heard.
+
+"Mos feered for to ventur pon dis limb berry far--'tis dead limb putty
+much all de way."
+
+"Did you say it was a _dead_ limb, Jupiter?" cried Legrand in a
+quavering voice.
+
+"Yes, massa, him dead as de door-nail--done up for sartin--done
+departed dis here life."
+
+"What in the name of heaven shall I do?" asked Legrand, seemingly in
+the greatest distress.
+
+"Do!" said I, glad of an opportunity to interpose a word, "why, come
+home and go to bed.  Come now!--that's a fine fellow.  It's getting
+late, and, besides, you remember your promise."
+
+"Jupiter," cried he, without heeding me in the least, "do you hear me?"
+
+"Yes, Massa Will, hear you ebber so plain."
+
+"Try the wood well, then, with your knife, and see if you think it very
+rotten."
+
+"Him rotten, massa, sure nuff," replied the negro in a few moments,
+"but not so berry rotten as mought be.  Mought venture our leetle way
+pon de limb by myself, dat's true."
+
+"By yourself!--what do you mean?"
+
+"Why, I mean de bug.  'Tis _berry_ hebby bug.  Spose I drop him down
+fuss, and den de limb won't break wid just de weight of one nigger."
+
+"You infernal scoundrel!" cried Legrand, apparently much relieved,
+"what do you mean by telling me such nonsense as that?  As sure as you
+drop that beetle I'll break your neck.  Look here, Jupiter, do you hear
+me?"
+
+"Yes, massa, needn't hollo at poor nigger dat style."
+
+"Well! now listen!--if you will venture out on the limb as far as you
+think safe, and not let go the beetle, I'll make you a present of a
+silver dollar as soon as you get down."
+
+"I'm gwine, Massa Will--deed I is," replied the negro very
+promptly--"mos out to the eend now."
+
+"_Out to the end!_" here fairly screamed Legrand; "do you say you are
+out to the end of that limb?"
+
+"Soon be to the eend, massa--o-o-o-o-oh!  Lor-gol-a-mercy! what _is_
+dis here pon de tree?"
+
+"Well!" cried Legrand, highly delighted, "what is it?"
+
+"Why, 'taint noffin but a skull--somebody bin lef him head up de tree,
+and de crows done gobble ebery bit ob de meat off."
+
+"A skull, you say!--very well--how is it fastened to the limb?--what
+holds it on?"
+
+"Sure nuff, massa; mus look.  Why dis berry curious sarcumstance, pon
+my word--dare's a great big nail in de skull, what fastens ob it on to
+de tree."
+
+"Well now, Jupiter, do exactly as I tell you--do you hear?"
+
+"Yes, massa."
+
+"Pay attention, then--find the left eye of the skull."
+
+"Hum! hoo! dat's good! why dey ain't no eye lef at all."
+
+"Curse your stupidity! do you know your right hand from your left?"
+
+"Yes, I knows dat--knows all about dat--'tis my lef hand what I chops
+de wood wid."
+
+"To be sure! you are left-handed; and your left eye is on the same side
+as your left hand.  Now, I suppose, you can find the left eye of the
+skull, or the place where the left eye has been.  Have you found it?"
+
+Here was a long pause.  At length the negro asked:
+
+"Is de lef eye of de skull pon de same side as de lef hand of de skull,
+too?--cause de skull aint got not a bit ob a hand at all--nebber mind!
+I got de lef eye now--here de lef eye! what mus do wid it?"
+
+"Let the beetle drop through it, as far as the string will reach--but
+be careful and not let go your hold of the string."
+
+"All dat done, Massa Will; mighty easy ting for to put de bug fru de
+hole--look out for him dare below!"
+
+During this colloquy no portion of Jupiter's person could be seen; but
+the beetle, which he had suffered to descend, was now visible at the
+end of the string, and glistened, like a globe of burnished gold, in
+the last rays of the setting sun, some of which still faintly illumined
+the eminence upon which we stood.  The _scarabaeus_ hung quite clear of
+any branches, and, if allowed to fall, would have fallen at our feet.
+Legrand immediately took the scythe, and cleared with it a circular
+space, three or four yards in diameter, just beneath the insect, and
+having accomplished this, ordered Jupiter to let go the string and come
+down from the tree.
+
+Driving a peg, with great nicety, into the ground, at the precise spot
+where the beetle fell, my friend now produced from his pocket a
+tape-measure.  Fastening one end of this at that point of the trunk of
+the tree which was nearest the peg, he unrolled it till it reached the
+peg and thence further unrolled it, in the direction already
+established by the two points of the tree and the peg, for the distance
+of fifty feet--Jupiter clearing away the brambles with the scythe.  At
+the spot thus attained a second peg was driven, and about this, as a
+centre, a rude circle, about four feet in diameter, described.  Taking
+now a spade himself, and giving one to Jupiter and one to me, Legrand
+begged us to set about digging as quickly as possible.
+
+To speak the truth, I had no especial relish for such amusement at any
+time, and, at that particular moment, would willingly have declined it;
+for the night was coming on, and I felt much fatigued with the exercise
+already taken; but I saw no mode of escape, and was fearful of
+disturbing my poor friend's equanimity by a refusal.  Could I have
+depended, indeed, upon Jupiter's aid, I would have had no hesitation in
+attempting to get the lunatic home by force; but I was too well assured
+of the old negro's disposition to hope that he would assist me, under
+any circumstances, in a personal contest with his master.  I made no
+doubt that the latter had been infected with some of the innumerable
+Southern superstitions about money buried, and that his phantasy had
+received confirmation by the finding of the _scarabaeus_, or, perhaps,
+by Jupiter's obstinacy in maintaining it to be "a bug of real gold."  A
+mind disposed to lunacy would readily be led away by such
+suggestions--especially if chiming in with favorite preconceived
+ideas--and then I called to mind the poor fellow's speech about the
+beetle's being "the index of his fortune."  Upon the whole, I was sadly
+vexed and puzzled, but, at length, I concluded to make a virtue of
+necessity--to dig with a good will, and thus the sooner to convince the
+visionary, by ocular demonstration, of the fallacy of the opinion he
+entertained.
+
+The lanterns having been lit, we all fell to work with a zeal worthy a
+more rational cause; and, as the glare fell upon our persons and
+implements, I could not help thinking how picturesque a group we
+composed, and how strange and suspicious our labors must have appeared
+to any interloper who, by chance, might have stumbled upon our
+whereabout.
+
+We dug very steadily for two hours.  Little was said; and our chief
+embarrassment lay in the yelpings of the dog, who took exceeding
+interest in our proceedings.  He, at length, became so obstreperous
+that we grew fearful of his giving the alarm to some stragglers in the
+vicinity--or, rather, this was the apprehension of Legrand;--for
+myself, I should have rejoiced at any interruption which might have
+enabled me to get the wanderer home.  The noise was, at length, very
+effectually silenced by Jupiter, who, getting out of the hole with a
+dogged air of deliberation, tied the brute's mouth up with one of his
+suspenders, and then returned, with a grave chuckle, to his task.
+
+When the time mentioned had expired, we had reached a depth of five
+feet, and yet no signs of any treasure became manifest.  A general
+pause ensued, and I began to hope that the farce was at an end.
+Legrand, however, although evidently much disconcerted, wiped his brow
+thoughtfully and recommenced.  We had excavated the entire circle of
+four feet diameter, and now we slightly enlarged the limit, and went to
+the further depth of two feet.  Still nothing appeared.  The
+gold-seeker, whom I sincerely pitied, at length clambered from the pit,
+with the bitterest disappointment imprinted upon every feature, and
+proceeded, slowly and reluctantly, to put on his coat, which he had
+thrown off at the beginning of his labor.  In the meantime I made no
+remark.  Jupiter, at a signal from his master, began to gather up his
+tools.  This done, and the dog having been unmuzzled, we turned in
+profound silence toward home.
+
+We had taken, perhaps, a dozen steps in this direction, when, with a
+loud oath, Legrand strode up to Jupiter, and seized him by the collar.
+The astonished negro opened his eyes and mouth to the fullest extent,
+let fall the spades, and fell upon his knees.
+
+"You scoundrel!" said Legrand, hissing out the syllables from between
+his clinched teeth--"you infernal black villain!--speak, I tell
+you!--answer me this instant, without prevarication!--which--which is
+your left eye?"
+
+"Oh, my golly, Massa Will! aint dis here my lef eye for attain?" roared
+the terrified Jupiter, placing his hand upon his right organ of vision,
+and holding it there with a desperate pertinacity, as if in immediate
+dread of his master's attempt at a gouge.
+
+"I thought so!--I knew it! hurrah!" vociferated Legrand, letting the
+negro go and executing a series of curvets and caracols, much to the
+astonishment of his valet, who, arising from his knees, looked, mutely,
+from his master to myself, and then from myself to his master.
+
+"Come! we must go back," said the latter, "the game's not up yet;" and
+he again led the way to the tulip-tree.
+
+"Jupiter," said he, when we reached its foot, "come here! was the skull
+nailed to the limb with the face outward, or with the face to the limb?"
+
+"De face was out, massa, so dat de crows could get at de eyes good,
+widout any trouble."
+
+"Well, then, was it this eye or that through which you dropped the
+beetle?" here Legrand touched each of Jupiter's eyes.
+
+"'Twas dis eye, massa--de lef eye--jis as you tell me," and here it was
+his right eye that the negro indicated.
+
+"That will do--we must try it again."
+
+Here my friend, about whose madness I now saw, or fancied that I saw,
+certain indications of method, removed the peg which marked the spot
+where the beetle fell, to a spot about three inches to the westward of
+its former position.  Taking, now, the tape measure from the nearest
+point of the trunk to the peg, as before, and continuing the extension
+in a straight line to the distance of fifty feet, a spot was indicated,
+removed, by several yards, from the point at which we had been digging.
+
+Around the new position a circle, somewhat larger than in the former
+instance, was now described, and we again set to work with the spade.
+I was dreadfully weary, but, scarcely understanding what had occasioned
+the change in my thoughts, I felt no longer any great aversion from the
+labor imposed.  I had become most unaccountably interested--nay, even
+excited.  Perhaps there was something, amid all the extravagant
+demeanor of Legrand--some air of forethought, or of deliberation, which
+impressed me.  I dug eagerly, and now and then caught myself actually
+looking, with something that very much resembled expectation, for the
+fancied treasure, the vision of which had demented my unfortunate
+companion.  At a period when such vagaries of thought most fully
+possessed me, and when we had been at work perhaps an hour and a half,
+we were again interrupted by the violent howlings of the dog.  His
+uneasiness, in the first instance, had been, evidently, but the result
+of playfulness or caprice, but he now assumed a bitter and serious
+tone.  Upon Jupiter's again attempting to muzzle him, he made furious
+resistance, and, leaping into the hole, tore up the mould frantically
+with his claws.  In a few seconds he had uncovered a mass of human
+bones, forming two complete skeletons, intermingled with several
+buttons of metal, and what appeared to be the dust of decayed woollen.
+One or two strokes of a spade upturned the blade of a large Spanish
+knife, and, as we dug further, three or four loose pieces of gold and
+silver coin came to light.
+
+At sight of these the joy of Jupiter could scarcely be restrained, but
+the countenance of his master wore an air of extreme disappointment.
+He urged us, however, to continue our exertions, and the words were
+hardly uttered when I stumbled and fell forward, having caught the toe
+of my boot in a large ring of iron that lay half buried in the loose
+earth.
+
+We now worked in earnest, and never did I pass ten minutes of more
+intense excitement.  During this interval we had fairly unearthed an
+oblong chest of wood, which, from its perfect preservation and
+wonderful hardness, had plainly been subjected to some mineralizing
+process--perhaps that of the bi-chloride of mercury.  This box was
+three feet and a half long, three feet broad, and two and a half feet
+deep.  It was firmly secured by bands of wrought iron, riveted, and
+forming a kind of open trellis-work over the whole.  On each side of
+the chest, near the top, were three rings of iron--six in all--by means
+of which a firm hold could be obtained by six persons.  Our utmost
+united endeavors served only to disturb the coffer very slightly in its
+bed.  We at once saw the impossibility of removing so great a weight.
+Luckily, the sole fastenings of the lid consisted of two sliding bolts.
+These we drew back--trembling and panting with anxiety.  In an instant,
+a treasure of incalculable value lay gleaming before us.  As the rays
+of the lanterns fell within the pit, there flashed upward a glow and a
+glare, from a confused heap of gold and of jewels, that absolutely
+dazzled our eyes.
+
+I shall not pretend to describe the feelings with which I gazed.
+Amazement was, of course, predominant.  Legrand appeared exhausted with
+excitement, and spoke very few words.  Jupiter's countenance wore, for
+some minutes, as deadly a pallor as it is possible, in the nature of
+things, for any negro's visage to assume.  He seemed
+stupefied--thunderstricken.  Presently he fell upon his knees in the
+pit, and burying his naked arms up to the elbows in gold, let them
+there remain, as if enjoying the luxury of a bath.  At length, with a
+deep sigh, he exclaimed, as if in a soliloquy:
+
+"And dis all cum ob de goole-bug! de putty goole-bug! de poor little
+goole-bug, what I boosed in that sabage kind ob style!  Aint you shamed
+ob yourself, nigger?--answer me dat!"
+
+It became necessary, at last, that I should arouse both master and
+valet to the expediency of removing the treasure.  It was growing late,
+and it behooved us to make exertion, that we might get everything
+housed before daylight.  It was difficult to say what should be done,
+and much time was spent in deliberation--so confused were the ideas of
+all.  We, finally, lightened the box by removing two-thirds of its
+contents, when we were enabled, with some trouble, to raise it from the
+hole.  The articles taken out were deposited among the brambles, and
+the dog left to guard them, with strict orders from Jupiter neither,
+upon any pretence, to stir from the spot, nor to open his mouth until
+our return.  We then hurriedly made for home with the chest; reaching
+the hut in safety, but after excessive toil, at one o'clock in the
+morning.  Worn out as we were, it was not in human nature to do more
+immediately.  We rested until two, and had supper; starting for the
+hills immediately afterward, armed with three stout sacks, which, by
+good luck, were upon the premises.  A little before four we arrived at
+the pit, divided the remainder of the booty, as equally as might be,
+among us, and, leaving the holes unfilled, again set out for the hut,
+at which, for the second time, we deposited our golden burdens, just as
+the first faint streaks of the dawn gleamed from over the tree-tops in
+the East.
+
+We were now thoroughly broken down; but the intense excitement of the
+time denied us repose.  After an unquiet slumber of some three or four
+hours' duration, we arose, as if by preconcert, to make examination of
+our treasure.
+
+The chest had been full to the brim, and we spent the whole day, and
+the greater part of the next night, in a scrutiny of its contents.
+There had been nothing like order or arrangement.  Everything had been
+heaped in promiscuously.  Having assorted all with care, we found
+ourselves possessed of even vaster wealth than we had at first
+supposed.  In coin, there was rather more than four hundred and fifty
+thousand dollars--estimating the value of the pieces, as accurately as
+we could, by the tables of the period.  There was not a particle of
+silver.  All was gold of antique date and of great variety--French,
+Spanish, and German money, with a few English guineas, and some
+counters, of which we had never seen specimens before.  There were
+several very large and heavy coins, so worn that we could make nothing
+of their inscriptions.  There was no American money.  The value of the
+jewels we found more difficulty in estimating.  There were
+diamonds--some of them exceedingly large and fine--a hundred and ten in
+all, and not one of them small; eighteen rubies of remarkable
+brilliancy;--three hundred and ten emeralds, all very beautiful; and
+twenty-one sapphires, with an opal.  These stones had all been broken
+from their settings and thrown loose in the chest.  The settings
+themselves, which we picked out from among the other gold, appeared to
+have been beaten up with hammers, as if to prevent identification.
+Besides all this, there was a vast quantity of solid gold ornaments;
+nearly two hundred massive finger and ear rings; rich chains--thirty of
+these, if I remember; eighty-three very large and heavy crucifixes;
+five gold censers of great value; a prodigious golden punch-bowl,
+ornamented with richly chased vine-leaves and Bacchanalian figures;
+with two sword-handles exquisitely embossed, and many other smaller
+articles which I can not recollect.  The weight of these valuables
+exceeded three hundred and fifty pounds avoirdupois; and in this
+estimate I have not included one hundred and ninety-seven superb gold
+watches; three of the number being worth each five hundred dollars, if
+one.  Many of them were very old, and as timekeepers, valueless; the
+works having suffered, more or less, from corrosion--but all were
+richly jewelled and in cases of great worth.  We estimated the entire
+contents of the chest, that night, at a million and a half of dollars;
+and upon the subsequent disposal of the trinkets and jewels (a few
+being retained for our own use), it was found that we had greatly
+undervalued the treasure.
+
+When, at length, we had concluded our examination, and the intense
+excitement of the time had, in some measure, subsided, Legrand, who saw
+that I was dying with impatience for a solution of this most
+extraordinary riddle, entered into a full detail of all the
+circumstances connected with it.
+
+"You remember," said he, "the night when I handed you the rough sketch
+I had made of the _scarabaeus_.  You recollect, also, that I became
+quite vexed at you for insisting that my drawing resembled a
+death's-head.  When you first made this assertion I thought you were
+jesting; but afterward I called to mind the peculiar spots on the back
+of the insect, and admitted to myself that your remark had some little
+foundation in fact.  Still, the sneer at my graphic powers irritated
+me--for I am considered a good artist--and, therefore, when you handed
+me the scrap of parchment, I was about to crumple it up and throw it
+angrily into the fire."
+
+"The scrap of paper, you mean," said I.
+
+"No; it had much of the appearance of paper, and at first I supposed it
+to be such, but when I came to draw upon it, I discovered it at once to
+be a piece of very thin parchment.  It was quite dirty, you remember.
+Well, as I was in the very act of crumpling it up, my glance fell upon
+the sketch at which you had been looking, and you may imagine my
+astonishment when I perceived, in fact, the figure of a death's-head
+just where, it seemed to me, I had made the drawing of the beetle.  For
+a moment I was too much amazed to think with accuracy.  I knew that my
+design was very different in detail from this--although there was a
+certain similarity in general outline.  Presently I took a candle, and
+seating myself at the other end of the room, proceeded to scrutinize
+the parchment more closely.  Upon turning it over, I saw my own sketch
+upon the reverse, just as I had made it.  My first idea, now, was mere
+surprise at the really remarkable similarity of outline--at the
+singular coincidence involved in the fact that, unknown to me, there
+should have been a skull upon the other side of the parchment,
+immediately beneath my figure of the _scarabaeus_, and that this skull,
+not only in outline but in size, should so closely resemble my drawing.
+I say the singularity of this coincidence absolutely stupefied me for a
+time.  This is the usual effect of such coincidences.  The mind
+struggles to establish a connection--a sequence of cause and
+effect--and, being unable to do so, suffers a species of temporary
+paralysis.  But, when I recovered from this stupor, there dawned upon
+me gradually a conviction which startled me even far more than the
+coincidence.  I began distinctly, positively, to remember that there
+had been no drawing upon the parchment when I made my sketch of the
+_scarabaeus_.  I became perfectly certain of this; for I recollected
+turning up first one side and then the other, in search of the cleanest
+spot.  Had the skull been then there, of course I could not have failed
+to notice it.  Here was indeed a mystery which I felt it impossible to
+explain; but, even at that early moment, there seemed to glimmer,
+faintly, within the most remote and secret chambers of my intellect, a
+glow-worm-like conception of that truth which last night's adventure
+brought to so magnificent a demonstration.  I arose at once, and,
+putting the parchment securely away, dismissed all further reflection
+until I should be alone.
+
+"When you had gone, and when Jupiter was fast asleep, I betook myself
+to a more methodical investigation of the affair.  In the first place,
+I considered the manner in which the parchment had come into my
+possession.  The spot where we discovered the _scarabaeus_ was on the
+coast of the mainland, about a mile eastward of the island, and but a
+short distance above high-water mark.  Upon my taking hold of it, it
+gave me a sharp bite, which caused me to let it drop.  Jupiter, with
+his accustomed caution, before seizing the insect, which had flown
+toward him, looked about him for a leaf, or something of that nature,
+by which to take hold of it.  It was at this moment that his eyes, and
+mine also, fell upon the scrap of parchment, which I then supposed to
+be paper.  It was lying half buried in the sand, a corner sticking up.
+Near the spot where we found it, I observed the remnants of the hull of
+what appeared to have been a ship's long-boat.  The wreck seemed to
+have been there for a very great while; for the resemblance to boat
+timbers could scarcely be traced.
+
+"Well, Jupiter picked up the parchment, wrapped the beetle in it, and
+gave it to me.  Soon afterward we turned to go home, and on the way met
+Lieutenant G----.  I showed him the insect, and he begged me to let him
+take it to the fort.  Upon my consenting, he thrust it forthwith into
+his waistcoat pocket, without the parchment in which it had been
+wrapped, and which I had continued to hold in my hand during his
+inspection.  Perhaps he dreaded my changing my mind, and thought it
+best to make sure of the prize at once--you know how enthusiastic he is
+on all subjects connected with Natural History.  At the same time,
+without being conscious of it, I must have deposited the parchment in
+my own pocket.
+
+"You remember that when I went to the table for the purpose of making a
+sketch of the beetle, I found no paper where it was usually kept.  I
+looked in the drawer, and found none there.  I searched my pockets,
+hoping to find an old letter, when my hand fell upon the parchment.  I
+thus detail the precise mode in which it came into my possession; for
+the circumstances impressed me with peculiar force.
+
+"No doubt you will think me fanciful--but I had already established a
+kind of connection.  I had put together two links of a great chain.
+There was a boat lying upon a seacoast, and not far from the boat was a
+parchment--_not a paper_--with a skull depicted upon it.  You will, of
+course, ask 'where is the connection?'  I reply that the skull, or
+death's-head, is the well-known emblem of the pirate.  The flag of the
+death's-head is hoisted in all engagements.
+
+"I have said that the scrap was parchment, and not paper.  Parchment is
+durable--almost imperishable.  Matters of little moment are rarely
+consigned to parchment; since, for the mere ordinary purposes of
+drawing or writing, it is not nearly so well adapted as paper.  This
+reflection suggested some meaning--some relevancy--in the death's-head.
+I did not fail to observe, also, the _form_ of the parchment.  Although
+one of its corners had been, by some accident, destroyed, it could be
+seen that the original form was oblong.  It was just such a slip,
+indeed, as might have been chosen for a memorandum--for a record of
+something to be long remembered and carefully preserved."
+
+"But," I interposed, "you say that the skill was not upon the parchment
+when you made the drawing of the beetle.  How then do you trace any
+connection between the boat and the skull---since this latter,
+according to your own admission, must have been designed (God only
+knows how or by whom) at some period subsequent to your sketching the
+_scarabaeus_?"
+
+"Ah, hereupon turns the whole mystery; although the secret, at this
+point, I had comparatively little difficulty in solving.  My steps were
+sure, and could afford but a single result I reasoned, for example,
+thus: When I drew the _scarabaeus_, there was no skull apparent upon
+the parchment When I had completed the drawing I gave it to you, and
+observed you narrowly until you returned it.  You, therefore, did not
+design the skull, and no one else was present to do it.  Then it was
+not done by human agency.  And nevertheless it was done.
+
+"At this stage of my reflections I endeavored to remember, and _did_
+remember, with entire distinctness, every incident which occurred about
+the period in question.  The weather was chilly (oh, rare and happy
+accident!), and a fire was blazing upon the hearth.  I was heated with
+exercise and sat near the table.  You, however, had drawn a chair close
+to the chimney.  Just as I placed the parchment in your hand, and as
+you were in the act of inspecting it, Wolf, the Newfoundland, entered,
+and leaped upon your shoulders.  With your left hand you caressed him
+and kept him off, while your right, holding the parchment, was
+permitted to fall listlessly between your knees, and in close proximity
+to the fire.  At one moment I thought the blaze had caught it, and was
+about to caution you, but, before I could speak, you had withdrawn it,
+and were engaged in its examination.  When I considered all these
+particulars, I doubted not for a moment that heat had been the agent in
+bringing to light, upon the parchment, the skull which I saw designed
+upon it.  You are well aware that chemical preparations exist, and have
+existed time out of mind, by means of which it is possible to write
+upon either paper or vellum, so that the characters shall become
+visible only when subjected to the action of fire.  Zaffre, digested in
+_aqua regia_, and diluted with four times its weight of water, is
+sometimes employed; a green tint results.  The regulus of cobalt,
+dissolved in spirit of nitre, gives a red.  These colors disappear at
+longer or shorter intervals after the material written upon cools, but
+again become apparent upon the reapplication of heat.
+
+"I now scrutinized the death's-head with care.  Its outer edges--the
+edges of the drawing nearest the edge of the vellum--were far more
+_distinct_ than the others.  It was clear that the action of the
+caloric had been imperfect or unequal.  I immediately kindled a fire,
+and subjected every portion of the parchment to a glowing heat.  At
+first, the only effect was the strengthening of the faint lines in the
+skull; but, upon persevering in the experiment, there became visible,
+at the corner of the slip, diagonally opposite to the spot in which the
+death's-head was delineated, the figure of what I at first supposed to
+be a goat.  A closer scrutiny, however, satisfied me that it was
+intended for a kid."
+
+"Ha! ha!" said I, "to be sure I have no right to laugh at you--a
+million and a half of money is too serious a matter for mirth--but you
+are not about to establish a third link in your chain--you will not
+find any especial connection between your pirates and a goat--pirates,
+you know, have nothing to do with goats; they appertain to the farming
+interest."
+
+"But I have just said that the figure was _not_ that of a goat."
+
+"Well, a kid, then--pretty much the same thing."
+
+"Pretty much, but not altogether," said Legrand.  "You may have heard
+of one _Captain_ Kidd.  I at once looked upon the figure of the animal
+as a kind of punning or hieroglyphical signature.  I say signature,
+because, its position upon the vellum suggested this idea.  The
+death's-head at the corner diagonally opposite, had, in the same
+manner, the air of a stamp, or seal.  But I was sorely put out by the
+absence of all else--of the body to my imagined instrument--of the text
+for my context."
+
+"I presume you expected to find a letter between the stamp and the
+signature."
+
+"Something of that kind.  The fact is, I felt irresistibly impressed
+with a presentiment of some vast good fortune impending.  I can
+scarcely say why.  Perhaps, after all, it was rather a desire than an
+actual belief;--but do you know that Jupiter's silly words, about the
+bug being of solid gold, had a remarkable effect upon my fancy?  And
+then the series of accidents and coincidents--these were so _very_
+extraordinary.  Do you observe how mere an accident it was that these
+events should have occurred upon the _sole_ day of all the year in
+which it has been, or may be sufficiently cool for foe, and that
+without the fire, or without the intervention of the dog at the precise
+moment in which he appeared, I should never have become aware of the
+death's-head, and so never the possessor of the treasure?"
+
+"But proceed--I am all impatience."
+
+"Well; you have heard, of course, the many stories current--the
+thousand vague rumors afloat about money buried, somewhere upon the
+Atlantic coast, by Kidd and his associates.  These rumors must have had
+some foundation in fact.  And that the rumors have existed so long and
+so continuously, could have resulted, it appeared to me, only from the
+circumstance of the buried treasures still _remaining_ entombed.  Had
+Kidd concealed his plunder for a time, and afterward reclaimed it, the
+rumors would scarcely have reached us in their present unvarying form.
+You will observe that the stories told are all about money-seekers, not
+about money-finders.  Had the pirate recovered his money, there the
+affair would have dropped.  It seemed to me that some accident--say the
+loss of a memorandum indicating its locality--had deprived him of the
+means of recovering it, and that this accident had become known to his
+followers, who otherwise might never have heard that the treasure had
+been concealed at all, and who, busying themselves in vain, because
+unguided, attempts to regain it, had given first birth, and then
+universal currency, to the reports which are now so common.  Have you
+ever heard of any important treasure being unearthed along the coast?"
+
+"Never."
+
+"But that Kidd's accumulations were immense, is well known.  I took it
+for granted, therefore, that the earth still held them; and you will
+scarcely be surprised when I tell you that I felt a hope, nearly
+amounting to certainty, that the parchment so strangely found involved
+a lost record of the place of deposit."
+
+"But how did you proceed?"
+
+"I held the vellum again to the fire, after increasing the heat, but
+nothing appeared.  I now thought it possible that the coating of dirt
+might have something to do with the failure: so I carefully rinsed the
+parchment by pouring warm water over it, and, having done this, I
+placed it in a tin pan, with the skull downward, and put the pan upon a
+furnace of lighted charcoal.  In a few minutes, the pan having become
+thoroughly heated, I removed the slip, and, to my inexpressible joy,
+found it spotted, in several places, with what appeared to be figures
+arranged in lines.  Again I placed it in the pan, and suffered it to
+remain another minute.  Upon taking it off, the whole was just as you
+see it now."
+
+Here Legrand, having reheated the parchment, submitted it to my
+inspection.  The following characters were rudely traced in a red tint,
+between the death's-head and the goat:
+
+  "53[dd][dd]t3o5))6*;4826)4[dd])4[dd].;8o6*;48[d]8[pilcrow]6o))85
+  ;1[dd](;:[dd]*8[d]83(88)5*[d];46(;88*96e*?;8)*[dd](;485);5*[d]2:*
+  [dd](;4956*2(5*--4)8[pilcrow]8*;4o69285);)6[d]8)4tt;1([dd]9;48o81
+  ;8:8[dd]1;48t85;4)485[d]5288o6*81([dd]9;48;(88;4([dd]
+  ?34;48)4[dd];161;:188:188;[dd]?;"
+
+[Transcriber's note: "[d]" indicates the dagger symbol, "[dd]"
+indicates the double-dagger symbol, and "[pilcrow]" indicates the
+pilcrow symbol.]
+
+"But," said I, returning him the slip, "I am as much in the dark as
+ever.  Were all the jewels of Golconda awaiting me upon my solution of
+this enigma, I am quite sure that I should be unable to earn them."
+
+"And yet," said Legrand, "the solution is by no means so difficult as
+you might be led to imagine from the first hasty inspection of the
+characters.  These characters, as any one might readily guess, form a
+cipher--that is to say, they convey a meaning; but then from what is
+known of Kidd, I could not suppose him capable of constructing any of
+the more abstruse cryptographs, I made up my mind, at once, that this
+was of a simple species--such, however, as would appear, to the crude
+intellect of the sailor, absolutely insoluble without the key."
+
+"And you really solved it?"
+
+"Readily; I have solved others of an abstruseness ten thousand times
+greater.  Circumstances, and a certain bias of mind, have led me to
+take interest in such riddles, and it may well be doubted whether human
+ingenuity can construct an enigma of the kind which human ingenuity may
+not, by proper application, resolve.  In fact, having once established
+connected and legible characters, I scarcely gave a thought to the mere
+difficulty of developing their import.
+
+"In the present case--indeed, in all cases of secret writing--the first
+question regards the _language_ of the cipher; for the principles of
+solution, so far, especially, as the more simple ciphers are concerned,
+depend upon, and are varied by, the genius of the particular idiom.  In
+general, there is no alternative but experiment (directed by
+probabilities) of every tongue known to him who attempts the solution,
+until the true one be attained.  But, with the cipher now before us all
+difficulty was removed by the signature.  The pun upon the word 'Kidd'
+is appreciable in no other language than the English.  But for this
+consideration I should have begun my attempts with Spanish and French,
+as the tongues in which a secret of this kind would most naturally have
+been written by a pirate of the Spanish, main.  As it was, I assumed
+the cryptograph to be English.
+
+"You observe there are no divisions between the words.  Had there been
+divisions the task would have been comparatively easy.  In such cases I
+should have commenced with a collation and analysis of the shorter
+words, and, had a word of a single letter occurred, as is most likely
+(_a_ or _I_, for example), I should have considered the solution as
+assured.  But, there being no division, my first step was to ascertain
+the predominant letters, as well as the least frequent.  Counting all,
+I constructed a table thus:
+
+    Of the characters 8 there are 33.
+                      ;     "     26
+                      4     "     19
+                      *     "     16
+       [double dagger])     "     13
+                      5     "     14
+                      6     "     11
+              [dagger]1     "      8
+                      o     "      6
+                     92     "      5
+                     :3     "      4
+                      ?     "      3
+              [pilcrow]     "      2
+                    --.     "      1
+
+
+"Now, in English, the letter which most frequently occurs is _e_.
+Afterward, the succession runs thus: _a o i d h n r s t u y c f g l m w
+b k p q x z_.  E predominates so remarkably, that an individual
+sentence of any length is rarely seen, in which it is not the
+prevailing character.
+
+"Here, then, we have, in the very beginning, the groundwork for
+something more than a mere guess.  The general use which may be made of
+the table is obvious--but, in this particular cipher, we shall only
+very partially require its aid.  As our predominant character is 8, we
+will commence by assuming it as the _e_ of the natural alphabet.  To
+verify the supposition, let us observe if the 8 be seen often in
+couples--for _e_ is doubled with great frequency in English--in such
+words, for example, as 'meet,' 'fleet,' 'speed,' 'seen,' 'been,'
+'agree,' etc.  In the present instance we see it doubled no less than
+five times, although the cryptograph is brief.
+
+"Let us assume 8, then, as _e_.  Now, of all _words_ in the language,
+'the' is most usual; let us see, therefore, whether there are not
+repetitions of any three characters, in the same order of collocation,
+the last of them being 8.  If we discover repetitions of such letters,
+so arranged, they will most probably represent the word 'the.'  Upon
+inspection, we find no less than seven such arrangements, the
+characters being ;48.  We may, therefore, assume that ; represents _t_,
+4 represents _h_, and 8 represents _e_--the last being now well
+confirmed.  Thus a great step has been taken.
+
+"But, having established a single word, we are enabled to establish a
+vastly important point; that is to say, several commencements and
+terminations of other words.  Let us refer, for example, to the last
+instance but one, in which the combination ;48 occurs--not far from the
+end of the cipher.  We know that the ; immediately ensuing is the
+commencement of a word, and, of six characters succeeding this 'the,'
+we are cognizant of no less than five.  Let us set these characters
+down, thus, by the letters we know them to represent, leaving a space
+for the unknown--
+
+  t eeth.
+
+
+"Here we are enabled, at once, to discard the '_th_,' as forming no
+portion of the word commencing with the first _t_; since, by experiment
+of the entire alphabet for a letter adapted to the vacancy, we perceive
+that no word can be formed of which this _th_ can be a part.  We are
+thus narrowed into
+
+  t ee,
+
+and, going through the alphabet, if necessary, as before, we arrive at
+the word 'tree,' as the sole possible reading.  We thus gain another
+letter, _r_, represented by (, with the words 'the tree' in
+juxtaposition.
+
+"Looking beyond these words, for a short distance, we again see the
+combination ;48, and employ it by way of termination to what
+immediately precedes.  We have thus this arrangement:
+
+  the tree;4([dagger]?34 the,
+
+or, substituting the natural letters, where known, it reads thus:
+
+  the tree thr[double dagger]?3h the.
+
+
+"Now, if, in the place of the unknown characters, we leave blank
+spaces, or substitute dots, we read thus:
+
+  the tree thr...h the,
+
+when the word 'through' makes itself evident at once.  But this
+discovery gives us three new letters, _o_, _u_, and _g_, represented by
+[double dagger], ?, and 3.
+
+"Looking now, narrowly, through the cipher for combinations of known
+characters, we find, not very far from the beginning, this arrangement,
+
+  83(88, or egree.
+
+which plainly, is the conclusion of the word 'degree,' and gives us
+another letter, _d_, represented by [dagger].
+
+"Four letters beyond the word 'degree,' we perceive the combination
+
+  ;46(;88
+
+
+"Translating the known characters, and representing the unknown by
+dots, as before, we read thus:
+
+  th.rtee,
+
+an arrangement immediately suggestive of the word 'thirteen,' and again
+furnishing us with two new characters, _i_ and _n_, represented by 6
+and *.
+
+"Referring, now, to the beginning of the cryptograph, we find the
+combination,
+
+  53[double dagger][double dagger][dagger].
+
+
+"Translating as before, we obtain
+
+  .good,
+
+which assures us that the first letter is _A_, and that the first two
+words are 'A good.'
+
+"It is now time that we arrange our key, as far as discovered, in a
+tabular form, to avoid confusion.  It will stand thus:
+
+     5           represents a
+  [dagger]            "     d
+     8                "     e
+     3                "     g
+     4                "     h
+     6                "     i
+     *                "     n
+  [double dagger]     "     o
+     (                "     r
+     :                "     t
+     ?                "     u
+
+
+"We have, therefore, no less than eleven of the most important letters
+represented, and it will be unnecessary to proceed with the details of
+the solution.  I have said enough to convince you that ciphers of this
+nature are readily soluble, and to give you some insight into the
+_rationale_ of their development.  But be assured that the specimen
+before us appertains to the very simplest species of cryptograph.  It
+now only remains to give you the full translation of the characters
+upon the parchment, as unriddled.  Here it is:
+
+
+"'_A good glass in the bishop's hostel in the devil's seat forty-one
+degrees and thirteen minutes northeast and by north main branch seventh
+limb east side shoot from the left eye of the death's-head a bee-line
+from the tree through the shot fifty feet out._'"
+
+
+"But," said I, "the enigma seems still in as bad a condition as ever.
+How is it possible to extort a meaning from all this jargon about
+'devil's seats,' 'death's-head,' and 'bishop's hotels?'"
+
+"I confess," replied Legrand, "that the matter still wears a serious
+aspect, when regarded with a casual glance.  My first endeavor was to
+divide the sentence into the natural division intended by the
+cryptographist."
+
+"You mean, to punctuate it?"
+
+"Something of that kind."
+
+"But how was it possible to effect this?"
+
+"I reflected that it had been a point with the writer to run his words
+together without division, so as to increase the difficulty of
+solution.  Now, a not over-acute man, in pursuing such an object, would
+be nearly certain to overdo the matter.  When, in the course of his
+composition, he arrived at a break in his subject which would naturally
+require a pause, or a point, he would be exceedingly apt to run his
+characters, at this place, more than usually close together.  If you
+will observe the MS., in the present instance, you will easily detect
+five such cases of unusual crowding.  Acting upon this hint, I made the
+division thus:
+
+
+"'_A good glass in the bishop's hostel in the devil's seat--forty-one
+degrees and thirteen minutes--northeast and by north--main branch
+seventh limb east side--shoot from the left eye of the death's-head--a
+bee-line from the tree through the shot fifty feet out._'"
+
+
+"Even this division," said I, "leaves me still in the dark."
+
+"It left me also in the dark," replied Legrand, "for a few days; during
+which I made diligent inquiry in the neighborhood of Sullivan's Island,
+for any building which went by name of the 'Bishop's Hotel'; for, of
+course, I dropped the obsolete word 'hostel.'  Gaining no information
+on the subject, I was on the point of extending my sphere of search,
+and proceeding in a more systematic manner, when, one morning, it
+entered into my head, quite suddenly, that this 'Bishop's Hostel' might
+have some reference to an old family, of the name of Bessop, which,
+time out of mind, had held possession of an ancient manor-house, about
+four miles to the northward of the island.  I accordingly went over to
+the plantation, and reinstituted my inquiries among the older negroes
+of the place.  At length one of the most aged of the women said that
+she had heard of such a place as Bessop's Castle, and thought that she
+could guide me to it, but that it was not a castle, nor a tavern, but a
+high rock.
+
+"I offered to pay her well for her trouble, and, after some demur, she
+consented to accompany me to the spot.  We found it without much
+difficulty, when, dismissing her, I proceeded to examine the place.
+The 'castle' consisted of an irregular assemblage of cliffs and
+rocks--one of the latter being quite remarkable for its height as well
+as for its insulated and artificial appearance.  I clambered to its
+apex, and then felt much at a loss as to what should be next done.
+
+"While I was busied in reflection, my eyes fell upon a narrow ledge in
+the eastern face of the rock, perhaps a yard below the summit upon
+which I stood.  This ledge projected about eighteen inches, and was not
+more than a foot wide, while a niche in the cliff just above it gave it
+a rude resemblance to one of the hollow-backed chairs used by our
+ancestors.  I made no doubt that here was the 'devil's-seat' alluded to
+in the MS., and now I seemed to grasp the full secret of the riddle.
+
+"The 'good glass,' I knew, could have reference to nothing but a
+telescope; for the word 'glass' is rarely employed in any other sense
+by seamen.  Now here, I at once saw, was a telescope to be used, and a
+definite point of view, admitting _no variation_, from which to use it.
+Nor did I hesitate to believe that the phrases, 'forty-one degrees and
+thirteen minutes,' and 'northeast and by north,' were intended as
+directions for the levelling of the glass.  Greatly excited by these
+discoveries, I hurried home, procured a telescope, and returned to the
+rock.
+
+"I let myself down to the ledge, and found that it was impossible to
+retain a seat upon it except in one particular position.  This fact
+confirmed my preconceived idea.  I proceeded to use the glass.  Of
+course, the 'forty-one degrees and thirteen minutes' could allude to
+nothing but elevation above the visible horizon, since the horizontal
+direction was clearly indicated by the words, 'northeast and by north.'
+This latter direction I at once established by means of a
+pocket-compass; then, pointing the glass as nearly at an angle of
+forty-one degrees of elevation as I could do it by guess, I moved it
+cautiously up or down, until my attention was arrested by a circular
+rift or opening in the foliage of a large tree that overtopped its
+fellows in the distance.  In the centre of this rift I perceived a
+white spot, but could not, at first, distinguish what it was.
+Adjusting the focus of the telescope, I again looked, and now made it
+out to be a human skull.
+
+"Upon this discovery I was so sanguine as to consider the enigma
+solved; for the phrase 'main branch, seventh limb, east side,' could
+refer only to the position of the skull upon the tree, while 'shoot
+from the left eye of the death's-head' admitted, also, of but one
+interpretation, in regard to a search for buried treasure.  I perceived
+that the design was to drop a bullet from the left eye of the skull,
+and that a bee-line, or, in other words, a straight line, drawn from
+the nearest point of the trunk through the shot (or the spot where the
+bullet fell), and thence extended to a distance of fifty feet, would
+indicate a definite point--and beneath this point I thought it at least
+_possible_ that a deposit of value lay concealed."
+
+"All this," I said, "is exceedingly clear, and, although ingenious,
+still simple and explicit.  When you left the Bishop's Hotel, what
+then?"
+
+"Why, having carefully taken the bearings of the tree, I turned
+homeward.  The instant that I left 'the devil's-seat,' however, the
+circular rift vanished; nor could I get a glimpse of it afterward, turn
+as I would.  What seems to me the chief ingenuity in this whole
+business, is the fact (for repeated experiment has convinced me it _is_
+a fact) that the circular opening in question is visible from no other
+attainable point of view than that afforded by the narrow ledge upon
+the face of the rock.
+
+"In this expedition to the 'Bishop's Hotel' I had been attended by
+Jupiter, who had, no doubt, observed, for some weeks past, the
+abstraction of my demeanor, and took especial care not to leave me
+alone.  But, on the next day, getting up very early, I contrived to
+give him the slip, and went into the hills in search of the tree.
+After much toil I found it.  When I came home at night my valet
+proposed to give me a flogging.  With the rest of the adventure I
+believe you are as well acquainted as myself."
+
+"I suppose," said I, "you missed the spot, in the first attempt at
+digging, through Jupiter's stupidity in letting the bug fall through
+the right instead of through the left eye of the skull."
+
+"Precisely.  This mistake made a difference of about two inches and a
+half in the 'shot'--that is to say, in the position of the peg nearest
+the tree; and had the treasure been _beneath_ the 'shot,' the error
+would have been of little moment; but 'the shot,' together with the
+nearest point of the tree, were merely two points for the establishment
+of a line of direction; of course, the error, however trivial in the
+beginning, increased as we proceeded with the line, and by the time we
+had gone fifty feet threw us quite off the scent.  But for my
+deep-seated impressions that treasure was here somewhere actually
+buried, we might have had all our labor in vain."
+
+"But your grandiloquence, and your conduct in swinging the beetle--how
+excessively odd!  I was sure you were mad.  And why did you insist upon
+letting fall the bug, instead of a bullet, from the skull?"
+
+"Why, to be frank, I felt somewhat annoyed by your evident suspicions
+touching my sanity, and so resolved to punish you quietly, in my own
+way, by a little bit of sober mystification.  For this reason I swung
+the beetle, and for this reason I let it fall from the tree.  An
+observation of yours about its great weight suggested the latter idea."
+
+"Yes, I perceive; and now there is only one point which puzzles me.
+What are we to make of the skeletons found in the hole?"
+
+"That is a question I am no more able to answer than yourself.  There
+seems, however, only one plausible way of accounting for them--and yet
+it is dreadful to believe in such atrocity as my suggestion would
+imply.  It is clear that Kidd--if Kidd indeed secreted this treasure,
+which I doubt not--it is clear that he must have had assistance in the
+labor.  But this labor concluded, he may have thought it expedient to
+remove all participants in his secret.  Perhaps a couple of blows with
+a mattock were sufficient, while his coadjutors were busy in the pit;
+perhaps it required a dozen--who shall tell?"
+
+
+
+
+CORPORAL FLINT'S MURDER
+
+By J. FENIMORE COOPER
+
+
+Half an hour passed after the execution of the missionary before the
+chiefs commenced their proceedings with the corporal.  The delay was
+owing to a consultation, in which The Weasel had proposed despatching a
+party to the castle, to bring in the family, and thus make a common
+destruction of the remaining pale-faces known to be in that part of the
+Openings.  Peter did not dare to oppose this scheme, himself; but he so
+managed as to get Crowsfeather to do it, without bringing himself into
+the foreground.  The influence of the Pottawattamie prevailed, and it
+was decided to torture this one captive, and to secure his scalp,
+before they proceeded to work their will on the others.  Ungque, who
+had gained ground rapidly by his late success, was once more
+commissioned to state to the captive the intentions of his captors.
+
+"Brother," commenced The Weasel, placing himself directly in front of
+the corporal, "I am about to speak to you.  A wise warrior opens his
+ears, when he hears the voice of his enemy.  He may learn something it
+will be good for him to know.  It will be good for you to know what I
+am about to say.
+
+"Brother, you are a pale-face, and we are Injins.  You wish to get our
+hunting-grounds, and we wish to keep them.  To keep them, it has become
+necessary to take your scalp.  I hope you are ready to let us have it."
+
+The corporal had but an indifferent knowledge of the Indian language,
+but he comprehended all that was uttered on this occasion.  Interest
+quickened his faculties, and no part of what was said was lost.  The
+gentle, slow, deliberate manner in which The Weasel delivered himself,
+contributed to his means of understanding.  He was fortunately prepared
+for what he heard, and the announcement of his approaching fate did not
+disturb him to the degree of betraying weakness.  This last was a
+triumph in which the Indians delighted, though they ever showed the
+most profound respect for such of their victims as manifested a manly
+fortitude.  It was necessary to reply, which the corporal did in
+English, knowing that several present could interpret his words.  With
+a view to render this the more easy, he spoke in fragments of
+sentences, and with great deliberation.
+
+"Injins," returned the corporal, "you surrounded me, and I have been
+taken prisoner--had there been a platoon on us, you mightn't have made
+out quite so well.  It's no great victory for three hundred warriors to
+overcome a single man.  I count Parson Amen as worse than nothing, for
+he looked to neither rear nor flank.  If I could have half an hour's
+work upon you, with only half of our late company, I think we should
+lower your conceit.  But that is impossible, and so you may do just
+what you please with me.  I ask no favors."
+
+Although this answer was very imperfectly translated, it awakened a
+good deal of admiration.  A man who could look death so closely in the
+face, with so much steadiness, became a sort of hero in Indian eyes;
+and with the North American savage, fortitude is a virtue not inferior
+to courage.  Murmurs of approbation were heard, and Ungque was
+privately requested to urge the captive further, in order to see how
+far present appearances were likely to be maintained.
+
+"Brother, I have said that we are Injins," resumed The Weasel, with an
+air so humble, and a voice so meek, that a stranger might have supposed
+he was consoling, instead of endeavoring to intimidate, the prisoner.
+"It is true.  We are nothing but poor, ignorant Injins.  We can only
+torment our prisoners after Injin fashion.  If we were pale-faces, we
+might do better.  We did not torment the medicine-priest.  We were
+afraid he would laugh at our mistakes.  He knew a great deal.  We know
+but little.  We do as well as we know how.
+
+"Brother, when Injins do as well as they know how, a warrior should
+forget their mistakes.  We wish to torment you, in a way to prove that
+you are all over man.  We wish so to torment you that you will stand up
+under the pain in such a way that it will make our young men think your
+mother was not a squaw--that there is no woman in you.  We do this for
+our own honor, as well as for yours.  It will be an honor to us to have
+such a captive; it will be an honor to you to be such a captive.  We
+shall do as well as we know how.
+
+"Brother, it is most time to begin.  The tormenting will last a long
+time.  We must not let the medicine-priest get too great a start on the
+path to the happy hunting-grounds of your----"
+
+Here, a most unexpected interruption occurred, that effectually put a
+stop to the eloquence of Ungque.  In his desire to make an impression,
+the savage approached within reach of the captive's arm, while his own
+mind was intent on the words that he hoped would make the prisoner
+quail.  The corporal kept his eye on that of the speaker, charming him,
+as it were, into a riveted gaze, in return.  Watching his opportunity,
+he caught the tomahawk from the Weasel's belt, and by a single blow,
+felled him dead at his feet.  Not content with this, the old soldier
+now bounded forward, striking right and left, inflicting six or eight
+wounds on others, before he could be again arrested, disarmed, and
+bound.  While the last was doing, Peter withdrew, unobserved.
+
+Many were the "hughs" and other exclamations of admiration that
+succeeded this display of desperate manhood!  The body of The Weasel
+was removed, and interred, while the wounded withdrew to attend to
+their hurts; leaving the arena to the rest assembled there.  As for the
+corporal, he was pretty well blown, and, in addition to being now bound
+hand and foot, his recent exertions, which were terrific while they
+lasted, effectually incapacitated him from making any move, so long as
+he was thus exhausted and confined.
+
+A council was now held by the principal chiefs.  Ungque had few
+friends.  In this, he shared the fate of most demagogues, who are
+commonly despised even by those they lead and deceive.  No one
+regretted him much, and some were actually glad at his fate.  But the
+dignity of the conquerors must be vindicated.  It would never do to
+allow a pale-face to obtain so great an advantage, and not take a
+signal vengeance for his deeds.  After a long consultation, it was
+determined to subject the captive to the trial by saplings, and thus
+see if he could bear the torture without complaining.  As some of our
+readers may not understand what this fell mode of tormenting is, it may
+be necessary to explain.
+
+There is scarcely a method of inflicting pain, that comes within the
+compass of their means, that the North American Indians have not
+essayed on their enemies.  When the infernal ingenuity that is
+exercised on these occasions fails of its effect, the captives
+themselves have been heard to suggest other means of torturing that
+_they_ have known practised successfully by their own people.  There is
+often a strange strife between the tormentors and the tormented; the
+one to manifest skill in inflicting pain, and the other to manifest
+fortitude in enduring it.  As has just been said, quite as much renown
+is often acquired by the warrior, in setting all the devices of his
+conquerors at defiance, while subject to their hellish attempts, as in
+deeds of arms.  It might be more true to say that such _was_ the
+practice among the Indians, than to say, at the present time, that such
+_is_; for it is certain that civilization in its approaches, while it
+has in many particulars even degraded the red man, has had a silent
+effect in changing and mitigating many of his fiercer customs--this,
+perhaps, among the rest.  It is probable that the more distant tribes
+still resort to all these ancient usages; but it is both hoped and
+believed that those nearer to the whites do not.
+
+The "torture by saplings" is one of those modes of inflicting pain that
+would naturally suggest themselves to savages.  Young trees that do not
+stand far apart are trimmed of their branches, and brought nearer to
+each other by bending their bodies; the victim is then attached to both
+trunks, sometimes by his extended arms, at others by his legs, or by
+whatever part of the frame cruelty can suggest, when the saplings are
+released, and permitted to resume their upright positions.  Of course,
+the sufferer is lifted from the earth, and hangs suspended by his
+limbs, with a strain on them that soon produces the most intense
+anguish.  The celebrated punishment of the "knout" partakes a good deal
+of this same character of suffering.  Bough of the Oak now approached
+the corporal, to let him know how high an honor was in reserve for him.
+
+"Brother," said this ambitious orator, "you are a brave warrior.  You
+have done well.  Not only have you killed one of our chiefs, but you
+have wounded several of our young men.  No one but a brave could have
+done this.  You have forced us to bind you, lest you might kill some
+more.  It is not often that captives do this.  Your courage has caused
+us to consult _how_ we might best torture you, in a way most to
+manifest your manhood.  After talking together, the chiefs have decided
+that a man of your firmness ought to be hung between two young trees.
+We have found the trees, and have cut off their branches.  You can see
+them.  If they were a little larger their force would be greater, and
+they would give you more pain--would be more worthy of you; but these
+are the largest saplings we could find.  Had there been any larger, we
+would have let you have them.  We wish to do you honor, for you are a
+bold warrior, and worthy to be well tormented.
+
+"Brother, look at these saplings!  They are tall and straight.  When
+they are bent by many hands, they will come together.  Take away the
+hands, and they will become straight again.  Your arms must then keep
+them together.  We wish we had some pappooses here, that they might
+shoot arrows into your flesh.  That would help much to torment you.
+You cannot have this honor, for we have no pappooses.  We are afraid to
+let our young men shoot arrows into your flesh.  They are strong, and
+might kill you.  We wish you to die between the saplings, as is your
+right, being so great a brave.
+
+"Brother, we think much better of you since you killed The Weasel, and
+hurt our young men.  If all your warriors at Chicago had been as bold
+as you, Black-Bird would not have taken that fort.  You would have
+saved many scalps.  This encourages us.  It makes us think the Great
+Spirit means to help us, and that we shall kill all the pale-faces.
+When we get further into your settlements, we do not expect to meet
+many such braves as you.  They tell us we shall then find men who will
+run, and screech like women.  It will not be a pleasure to torment such
+men.  We had rather torment a bold warrior, like you, who makes us
+admire him for his manliness.  We love our squaws, but not in the
+war-path.  They are best in the lodges; here we want nothing but men.
+You are a man--a brave--we honor you.  We think, notwithstanding, we
+shall yet make you weak.  It will not be easy, yet we hope to do it.
+We shall try.  We may not think quite so well of you, if we do it; but
+we shall always call you a brave.  A man is not a stone.  We can all
+feel, and when we have done all that is in our power, no one can do
+more.  It is so with Injins; we think it must be so with pale-faces.
+We mean to try and see how it is."
+
+The corporal understood very little of this harangue, though he
+perfectly comprehended the preparations of the saplings, and Bough of
+the Oak's allusions to _them_.  He was in a cold sweat at the thought,
+for resolute as he was, he foresaw sufferings that human fortitude
+could hardly endure.  In this state of the case, and in the frame of
+mind he was in, he had recourse to an expedient of which he had often
+heard, and which he thought might now be practised to some advantage.
+It was to open upon the savages with abuse, and to exasperate them, by
+taunts and sarcasm, to such a degree as might induce some of the weaker
+members of the tribe to dispatch him on the spot.  As the corporal,
+with the perspective of the saplings before his eyes, manifested a good
+deal of ingenuity on this occasion, we shall record some of his efforts.
+
+"D'ye call yourselves chiefs and warriors?" he began, upon a pretty
+high key.  "I call ye squaws!  There is not a man among ye.  Dogs would
+be the best name.  You are poor Injins.  A long time ago, the
+pale-faces came here in two or three little canoes.  They were but a
+handful, and you were plentier than prairie wolves.  Your bark could be
+heard throughout the land.  Well, what did this handful of pale-faces?
+It drove your fathers before them, until they got all the best of the
+hunting-grounds.  Not an Injin of you all, now, ever get down on the
+shores of the great salt lake, unless to sell brooms and baskets, and
+then he goes sneaking like a wolf after a sheep.  You have forgotten
+how clams and oysters taste.  Your fathers had as many of them as they
+could eat; but not one of you ever tasted them.  The pale-faces eat
+them all.  If an Injun asked for one, they would throw the shell at his
+head, and call him a dog.
+
+"Do you think that my chiefs would hang one of you between two such
+miserable saplings as these?  No!  They would scorn to practice such
+pitiful torture.  They would bring the tops of two tall pines together,
+trees a hundred and fifty feet high, and put their prisoner on the
+topmost boughs, for the crows and ravens to pick his eyes out.  But you
+are miserable Injins!  You know nothing.  If you know'd any better,
+would you act such poor torment ag'in' a great brave?  I spit upon ye,
+and call you squaws.  The pale-faces have made women of ye.  They have
+taken out your hearts, and put pieces of dog's flesh in their places."
+
+Here the corporal, who delivered himself with an animation suited to
+his language, was obliged to pause, literally for want of breath.
+Singular as it may seem, this tirade excited great admiration among the
+savages.  It is true, that very few understood what was said; perhaps
+no one understood _all_, but the manner was thought to be admirable.
+When some of the language was interpreted, a deep but smothered
+resentment was felt; more especially at the taunts touching the manner
+in which the whites had overcome the red men.  Truth is hard to be
+borne, and the individual, or people, who will treat a thousand
+injurious lies with contempt, feel all their ire aroused at one
+reproach that has its foundation in fact.  Nevertheless, the anger that
+the corporal's words did, in truth, awaken, was successfully repressed,
+and he had the disappointment of seeing that his life was spared for
+the torture.
+
+"Brother," said Bough of the Oak, again placing himself before the
+captive, "you have a stout heart.  It is made of stone, and not of
+flesh.  If our hearts be of dog's meat, yours is of stone.  What you
+say is true.  The pale-faces _did_ come at first in two or three
+canoes, and there were but few of them.  We are ashamed, for it is
+true.  A few pale-faces drove toward the setting sun many Injins.  But
+we cannot be driven any further.  We mean to stop here, and begin to
+take all the scalps we can.  A great chief, who belongs to no one
+tribe, but belongs to all tribes, who speaks all tongues, has been sent
+by the Great Spirit to arouse us.  He has done it.  You know him.  He
+came from the head of the lake with you, and kept his eye on your
+scalp.  He has meant to take it from the first.  He waited only for an
+opportunity.  That opportunity has come, and we now mean to do as he
+has told us we ought to do.  This is right.  Squaws are in a hurry;
+warriors know how to wait.  We would kill you at once, and hang your
+scalp on our pole, but it would not be right.  We wish to do what is
+right.  If we _are_ poor Injins, and know but little, we know what is
+right.  It is right to torment so great a brave, and we mean to do it.
+It is only just to you to do so.  An old warrior who has seen so many
+enemies, and who has so big a heart, ought not to be knocked in the
+head like a pappoose or a squaw.  It is his right to be tormented.  We
+are getting ready, and shall soon begin.  If my brother can tell us a
+new way of tormenting, we are willing to try it.  Should we not make
+out as well as pale-faces, my brother will remember who we are.  We
+mean to do our best, and we hope to make his heart soft.  If we do
+this, great will be our honor.  Should we not do it, we cannot help it.
+We shall try."
+
+It was now the corporal's turn to put in a rebutter.  This he did
+without any failure in will or performance.  By this time he was so
+well warmed as to think or care very little about the saplings, and to
+overlook the pain they might occasion.
+
+"Dogs can do little but bark; 'specially Injin dogs," he said.  "Injins
+themselves are little better than their own dogs.  They can bark, but
+they don't know how to bite.  You have many great chiefs here.  Some
+are panthers, and some bears, and some buffaloes; but where are your
+weasels?  I have fit you now these twenty years, and never have I known
+ye to stand up to the baggonet.  It's not Injin natur' to do _that_."
+
+Here the corporal, without knowing it, made some such reproach to the
+aboriginal warriors of America as the English used to throw into the
+teeth of ourselves--that of not standing up to a weapon which neither
+party possessed.  It was matter of great triumph that the Americans
+would not stand the charge of the bayonet at the renowned fight on
+Breed's, for instance, when it is well known that not one man in five
+among the colonists had any such weapon at all to "stand up" with.  A
+different story was told at Guildford, and Stony Point, and Eutaw, and
+Bennington, and Bemis' Heights, and fifty other places that might be
+named, after the troops were furnished with bayonets.  _Then_ it was
+found that the Americans could use them as well as others, and so might
+it have proved with the red men, though their discipline, or mode of
+fighting, scarce admitted of such systematic charges.  All this,
+however, the corporal overlooked, much as if he were a regular
+historian who was writing to make out a case.
+
+"Harkee, brother, since you _will_ call me brother; though, Heaven be
+praised, not a drop of nigger or Injin blood runs in _my_ veins,"
+resumed the corporal.  "Harken, friend redskin, answer me one thing.
+Did you ever hear of such a man as Mad Anthony?  He was the tickler for
+your infernal tribes!  You pulled no saplings together for him.  He put
+you up with 'the long-knives and leather-stockings,' and you outrun his
+fleetest horses.  I was with him, and saw more naked backs than naked
+faces among your people, that day.  Your Great Bear got a rap on his
+nose that sent him to his village yelping like a cur."
+
+Again was the corporal compelled to stop to take breath.  The allusion
+to Wayne, and his defeat of the Indians, excited so much ire, that
+several hands grasped knives and tomahawks, and one arrow was actually
+drawn nearly to the head; but the frown of Bear's Meat prevented any
+outbreak, or actual violence.  It was deemed prudent, however, to put
+an end to this scene, lest the straightforward corporal, who laid it on
+heavily, and who had so much to say about Indian defeats, might
+actually succeed in touching some festering wound that would bring him
+to his death at once.  It was, accordingly, determined to proceed with
+the torture of the saplings without further delay.
+
+The corporal was removed accordingly, and placed between the two bended
+trees, which were kept together by withes around their tops.  An arm of
+the captive was bound tightly at the wrist to the top of each tree, so
+that his limbs were to act as the only tie between the saplings, as
+soon as the withes should be cut.  The Indians now worked in silence,
+and the matter was getting to be much too serious for the corporal to
+indulge in any more words.  The cold sweat returned, and many an
+anxious glance was cast by the veteran on the fell preparations.  Still
+he maintained appearances, and when all was ready, not a man there was
+aware of the agony of dread which prevailed in the breast of the
+victim.  It was not death that he feared as much as suffering.  A few
+minutes, the corporal well knew, would make the pain intolerable, while
+he saw no hope of putting a speedy end to his existence.  A man might
+live hours in such a situation.  Then it was that the teachings of
+childhood were revived in the bosom of this hardened man, and he
+remembered the Being that died for _him_, in common with the rest of
+the human race, on the tree.  The seeming similarity of his own
+execution struck his imagination, and brought a tardy but faint
+recollection of those lessons that had lost most of their efficacy in
+the wickedness and impiety of camps.  His soul struggled for relief in
+that direction, but the present scene was too absorbing to admit of its
+lifting itself so far above his humanity.
+
+"Warrior of the pale-faces," said Bough of the Oak, "we are going to
+cut the withe.  You will then be where a brave man will want all his
+courage.  If you are firm, we will do you honor; if you faint and
+screech, our young men will laugh at you.  This is the way with Injins.
+They honor braves; they point the finger at cowards."
+
+Here a sign was made by Bear's Meat, and a warrior raised the tomahawk
+that was to separate the fastenings.  His hand was in the very act of
+descending, when the crack of a rifle was heard, and a little smoke
+rose out of the thicket, near the spot where the bee-hunter and the
+corporal, himself, had remained so long hid, on the occasion of the
+council first held in that place.  The tomahawk fell, however, the
+withes were parted, and up flew the saplings, with a violence that
+threatened to tear the arms of the victim out of their sockets.
+
+The Indians listened, expecting the screeches and groans;--they gazed,
+hoping to witness the writhings of their captive.  But they were
+disappointed.  There hung the body, its arms distended, still holding
+the tops of the saplings bowed, but not a sign of life was seen.  A
+small line of blood trickled down the forehead, and above it was the
+nearly imperceptible hole made by the passage of a bullet.  The head
+itself had fallen forward, and a little on one shoulder.  The corporal
+had escaped the torments reserved for him, by this friendly blow.
+
+
+
+
+UNCLE JIM AND UNCLE BILLY
+
+By BRET HARTE
+
+From "Stories in Light and Shadow."  Copyright 1888 and 1889 by Bret
+Harte.
+
+
+They were partners.  The avuncular title was bestowed on them by Cedar
+Camp, possibly in recognition of a certain matured good humor, quite
+distinct from the spasmodic exuberant spirits of its other members, and
+possibly from what, to its youthful sense, seemed their advanced
+ages--which must have been at least forty!  They had also set habits
+even in their improvidence, lost incalculable and unpayable sums to
+each other over euchre regularly every evening, and inspected their
+sluice-boxes punctually every Saturday for repairs--which they never
+made.  They even got to resemble each other, after the fashion of old
+married couples, or, rather, as in matrimonial partnerships, were
+subject to the domination of the stronger character; although in their
+case it is to be feared that it was the feminine Uncle
+Billy--enthusiastic, imaginative, and loquacious--who swayed the
+masculine, steady-going, and practical Uncle Jim.  They had lived in
+the camp since its foundation in 1849; there seemed to be no reason why
+they should not remain there until its inevitable evolution into a
+mining-town.  The younger members might leave through restless ambition
+or a desire for change or novelty; they were subject to no such
+trifling mutation.  Yet Cedar Camp was surprised one day to hear that
+Uncle Billy was going away.
+
+The rain was softly falling on the bark thatch of the cabin with a
+muffled murmur, like a sound heard through sleep.  The southwest trades
+were warm even at that altitude, as the open door testified, although a
+fire of pine bark was flickering on the adobe hearth and striking out
+answering fires from the freshly scoured culinary utensils on the rude
+sideboard, which Uncle Jim had cleaned that morning with his usual
+serious persistency.  Their best clothes, which were interchangeable
+and worn alternately by each other on festal occasions, hung on the
+walls, which were covered with a coarse sailcloth canvas instead of
+lath-and-plaster, and were diversified by pictures from illustrated
+papers and stains from the exterior weather.  Two "bunks," like ships'
+berths,--an upper and lower one,--occupied the gable-end of this single
+apartment, and on beds of coarse sacking, filled with dry moss, were
+carefully rolled their respective blankets and pillows.  They were the
+only articles not used in common, and whose individuality was respected.
+
+Uncle Jim, who had been sitting before the fire, rose as the square
+bulk of his partner appeared at the doorway with an armful of wood for
+the evening stove.  By that sign he knew it was nine o'clock: for the
+last six years Uncle Billy had regularly brought in the wood at that
+hour, and Uncle Jim had as regularly closed the door after him, and set
+out their single table, containing a greasy pack of cards taken from
+its drawer, a bottle of whiskey, and two tin drinking-cups.  To this
+was added a ragged memorandum-book and a stick of pencil.  The two men
+drew their stools to the table.
+
+"Hol' on a minit," said Uncle Billy.
+
+His partner laid down the cards as Uncle Billy extracted from his
+pocket a pill-box, and, opening it, gravely took a pill.  This was
+clearly an innovation on their regular proceedings, for Uncle Billy was
+always in perfect health.
+
+"What's this for?" asked Uncle Jim half scornfully.
+
+"Agin ager."
+
+"You ain't got no ager," said Uncle Jim, with the assurance of intimate
+cognizance of his partner's physical condition.
+
+"But it's a pow'ful preventive!  Quinine!  Saw this box at Riley's
+store, and laid out a quarter on it.  We kin keep it here, comfortable,
+for evenings.  It's mighty soothin' arter a man's done a hard day's
+work on the river-bar.  Take one."
+
+Uncle Jim gravely took a pill and swallowed it, and handed the box back
+to his partner.
+
+"We'll leave it on the table, sociable like, in case any of the boys
+come in," said Uncle Billy, taking up the cards.  "Well.  How de we
+stand?"
+
+Uncle Jim consulted the memorandum-book.  "You were owin' me sixty-two
+thousand dollars on the last game, and the limit's seventy-five
+thousand!"
+
+"Je whillikins!" ejaculated Uncle Billy.  "Let me see."
+
+He examined the book, feebly attempted to challenge the additions, but
+with no effect on the total.  "We oughter hev made the limit a hundred
+thousand," he said seriously; "seventy-five thousand is only triflin'
+in a game like ours.  And you've set down my claim at Angel's?" he
+continued.
+
+"I allowed you ten thousand dollars for that," said Uncle Jim, with
+equal gravity, "and it's a fancy price too."
+
+The claim in question being an unprospected hillside ten miles distant,
+which Uncle Jim had never seen, and Uncle Billy had not visited for
+years, the statement was probably true; nevertheless, Uncle Billy
+retorted:--
+
+"Ye kin never tell how these things will pan out.  Why, only this
+mornin' I was taking a turn round Shot Up Hill, that ye know is just
+rotten with quartz and gold, and I couldn't help thinkin' how much it
+was like my ole claim at Angel's.  I must take a day off to go on there
+and strike a pick in it, if only for luck."
+
+Suddenly he paused and said, "Strange, ain't it, you should speak of it
+to-night?  Now I call that queer!"
+
+He laid down his cards and gazed mysteriously at his companion.  Uncle
+Jim knew perfectly that Uncle Billy had regularly once a week for many
+years declared his final determination to go over to Angel's and
+prospect his claim, yet nevertheless he half responded to his partner's
+suggestion of mystery, and a look of fatuous wonder crept into his
+eyes.  But he contented himself by saying cautiously, "You spoke of it
+first."
+
+"That's the more sing'lar," said Uncle Billy confidently.  "And I've
+been thinking about it, and kinder seeing myself thar all day.  It's
+mighty queer!"  He got up and began to rummage among some torn and
+coverless books in the corner.
+
+"Where's that 'Dream Book' gone to?"
+
+"The Carson boys borrowed it," replied Uncle Jim.
+
+"Anyhow, yours wasn't no dream--only a kind o' vision, and the book
+don't take no stock in visions."  Nevertheless, he watched his partner
+with some sympathy, and added, "That reminds me that I had a dream the
+other night of being in 'Frisco at a small hotel, with heaps o' money,
+and all the time being sort o' scared and bewildered over it."
+
+"No?" queried his partner eagerly yet reproachfully.  "You never let on
+anything about it to _me_!  It's mighty queer you havin' these strange
+feelin's, for I've had 'em myself.  And only to-night, comin' up from
+the spring, I saw two crows hopping in the trail, and I says, 'If I see
+another, it's luck, sure!'  And you'll think I'm lyin', but when I went
+to the wood-pile just now there was the _third_ one sittin' up on a log
+as plain as I see you.  Tell 'e what folks ken laugh--but that's just
+what Jim Filgee saw the night before he made the big strike!"
+
+They were both smiling, yet with an underlying credulity and
+seriousness as singularly pathetic as it seemed incongruous to their
+years and intelligence.  Small wonder, however, that in their
+occupation and environment--living daily in an atmosphere of hope,
+expectation, and chance, looking forward each morning to the blind
+stroke of a pick that might bring fortune--they should see signs in
+nature and hear mystic voices in the trackless woods that surrounded
+them.  Still less strange that they were peculiarly susceptible to the
+more recognized diversions of chance, and were gamblers on the turning
+of a card who trusted to the revelation of a shovelful of upturned
+earth.
+
+It was quite natural, therefore, that they should return from their
+abstract form of divination to the table and their cards.  But they
+were scarcely seated before they heard a crackling step in the brush
+outside, and the free latch of their door was lifted.  A younger member
+of the camp entered.  He uttered a peevish "Halloo!" which might have
+passed for a greeting, or might have been a slight protest at finding
+the door closed, drew the stool from which Uncle Jim had just risen
+before the fire, shook his wet clothes like a Newfoundland dog, and sat
+down.  Yet he was by no means churlish nor coarse-looking, and this act
+was rather one of easy-going, selfish, youthful familiarity than of
+rudeness.  The cabin of Uncles Billy and Jim was considered a public
+right or "common" of the camp.  Conferences between individual miners
+were appointed there.  "I'll meet you at Uncle Billy's" was a common
+tryst.  Added to this was a tacit claim upon the partners' arbitrative
+powers, or the equal right to request them to step outside if the
+interviews were of a private nature.  Yet there was never any objection
+on the part of the partners, and to-night there was not a shadow of
+resentment of this intrusion in the patient, good-humored, tolerant
+eyes of Uncles Jim and Billy as they gazed at their guest.  Perhaps
+there was a slight gleam of relief in Uncle Jim's when he found that
+the guest was unaccompanied by any one, and that it was not a tryst.
+It would have been unpleasant for the two partners to have stayed out
+in the rain while their guests were exchanging private confidences in
+their cabin.  While there might have been no limit to their good will,
+there might have been some to their capacity for exposure.
+
+Uncle Jim drew a huge log from beside the hearth and sat on the driest
+end of it, while their guest occupied the stool.  The young man,
+without turning away from his discontented, peevish brooding over the
+fire, vaguely reached backward for the whiskey-bottle and Uncle Billy's
+tin cup, to which he was assisted by the latter's hospitable hand.  But
+on setting down the cup his eye caught sight of the pill-box.
+
+"Wot's that?" he said, with gloomy scorn.  "Rat poison?"
+
+"Quinine pills--agin ager," said Uncle Jim.  "The newest thing out.
+Keeps out damp like Injin-rubber!  Take one to follow yer whiskey.  Me
+and Uncle Billy wouldn't think o' settin' down, quiet like, in the
+evening arter work, without 'em.  Take one--ye'r welcome!  We keep 'em
+out here for the boys."
+
+Accustomed as the partners were to adopt and wear each other's opinions
+before folks, as they did each other's clothing, Uncle Billy was,
+nevertheless, astonished and delighted at Uncle Jim's enthusiasm over
+_his_ pills.  The guest took one and swallowed it.
+
+"Mighty bitter!" he said, glancing at his hosts with the quick
+Californian suspicion of some practical joke.  But the honest faces of
+the partners reassured him.
+
+"That bitterness ye taste," said Uncle Jim quickly, "is whar the
+thing's gittin' in its work.  Sorter sickenin' the malaria--and kinder
+water-proofin' the insides all to onct and at the same lick!  Don't yer
+see?  Put another in yer vest pocket; you'll be cryin' for 'em like a
+child afore ye get home.  Thar!  Well, how's things agoin' on your
+claim, Dick?  Boomin', eh?"
+
+The guest raised his head and turned it sufficiently to fling his
+answer back over his shoulder at his hosts.  "I don't know what _you'd_
+call 'boomin','" he said gloomily; "I suppose you two men sitting here
+comfortably by the fire, without caring whether school keeps or not,
+would call two feet of backwater over one's claim 'boomin';' I reckon
+_you'd_ consider a hundred and fifty feet of sluicing carried away, and
+drifting to thunder down the South Fork, something in the way of
+advertising to your old camp!  I suppose _you'd_ think it was an
+inducement to investors!  I shouldn't wonder," he added still more
+gloomily, as a sudden dash of rain down the wide-throated chimney
+dropped in his tin cup--"and it would be just like you two chaps,
+sittin' there gormandizing over your quinine--if yer said this rain
+that's lasted three weeks was something to be proud of!"
+
+It was the cheerful and the satisfying custom of the rest of the camp,
+for no reason whatever, to hold Uncle Jim and Uncle Billy responsible
+for its present location, its vicissitudes, the weather, or any
+convulsion of nature; and it was equally the partners' habit, for no
+reason whatever, to accept these animadversions and apologize.
+
+"It's a rain that's soft and mellowin'," said Uncle Billy gently, "and
+supplin' to the sinews and muscles.  Did ye ever notice,
+Jim"--ostentatiously to his partner--"did ye ever notice that you get
+inter a kind o' sweaty lather workin' in it?  Sorter openin' to the
+pores!"
+
+"Fetches 'em every time," said Uncle Billy.  "Better nor fancy soap."
+
+Their guest laughed bitterly.  "Well, I'm going to leave it to you.  I
+reckon to cut the whole concern to-morrow, and 'lite' out for something
+new.  It can't be worse than this."
+
+The two partners looked grieved, albeit they were accustomed to these
+outbursts.  Everybody who thought of going away from Cedar Camp used it
+first as a threat to these patient men, after the fashion of runaway
+nephews, or made an exemplary scene of their going.
+
+"Better think twice afore ye go," said Uncle Billy.
+
+"I've seen worse weather afore ye came," said Uncle Jim slowly.  "Water
+all over the Bar; the mud so deep ye couldn't get to Angel's for a sack
+o' flour, and we had to grub on pine nuts and jackass-rabbits.  And
+yet--we stuck by the camp, and here we are!"
+
+The mild answer apparently goaded their guest to fury.  He rose from
+his seat, threw back his long dripping hair from his handsome but
+querulous face, and scattered a few drops on the partners.  "Yes,
+that's just it.  That's what gets me!  Here you stick, and here you
+are!  And here you'll stick and rust until you starve or drown!  Here
+you are,--two men who ought to be out in the world, playing your part
+as grown men,---stuck here like children 'playing house' in the woods;
+playing work in your wretched mud-pie ditches, and content.  Two men
+not so old that you mightn't be taking your part in the fun of the
+world, going to balls or theatres, or paying attention to girls, and
+yet old enough to have married and have your families around you,
+content to stay in this God-forsaken place; old bachelors, pigging
+together like poor-house paupers.  That's what gets me!  Say you like
+_it_?  Say you expect by hanging on to make a strike--and what does
+that amount to?  What are _your_ chances?  How many of us have made, or
+are making, more than grub wages?  Say you're willing to share and
+share alike as you do--have you got enough for two?  Aren't you
+actually living off each other?  Aren't you grinding each other down,
+choking each other's struggles, as you sink together deeper and deeper
+in the mud of this cussed camp?  And while you're doing this, aren't
+you, by your age and position here, holding out hopes to others that
+you know cannot be fulfilled?"
+
+Accustomed as they were to the half-querulous, half-humorous, but
+always extravagant, criticism of the others, there was something so new
+in this arraignment of themselves that the partners for a moment sat
+silent.  There was a slight flush on Uncle Billy's cheek, there was a
+slight paleness on Uncle Jim's.  He was the first to reply.  But he did
+so with a certain dignity which neither his partner nor their guest had
+ever seen on his face before.
+
+"As it's _our_ fire that's warmed ye up like this, Dick Bullen," he
+said, slowly rising, with his hand resting on Uncle Billy's shoulder,
+"and as it's _our_ whiskey that's loosened your tongue, I reckon we
+must put up with what ye'r' saying, just as we've managed to put up
+with our own way o' living, and not quo'll with ye under our own roof."
+
+The young fellow saw the change in Uncle Jim's face and quickly
+extended his hand, with an apologetic backward shake of his long hair.
+"Hang it all, old man," he said, with a laugh of mingled contrition and
+amusement, "you mustn't mind what I said just now.  I've been so
+worried thinking of things about _myself_ and, maybe, a little about
+you, that I quite forgot I hadn't a call to preach to anybody--least of
+all to you.  So we part friends, Uncle Jim, and you too, Uncle Billy,
+and you'll forget what I said.  In fact, I don't know why I spoke at
+all--only I was passing your claim just now, and wondering how much
+longer your old sluice-boxes would hold out, and where in thunder you'd
+get others when they caved in!  I reckon that sent me off.  That's all,
+old chap!"
+
+Uncle Billy's face broke into a beaming smile of relief, and it was his
+hand that first grasped his guest's; Uncle Jim quickly followed with as
+honest a pressure, but with eyes that did not seem to be looking at
+Bullen, though all trace of resentment had died out of them.  He walked
+to the door with him, again shook hands, but remained looking out in
+the darkness some time after Dick Bullen's tangled hair and broad
+shoulders had disappeared.
+
+Meantime, Uncle Billy had resumed his seat and was chuckling and
+reminiscent as he cleaned out his pipe.
+
+"Kinder reminds me of Jo Sharp, when he was cleaned out at poker by his
+own partners in his own cabin, comin' up here and bedevilin' us about
+it!  What was it you lint him?"
+
+But Uncle Jim did not reply; and Uncle Billy, taking up the cards,
+began to shuffle them, smiling vaguely, yet at the same time somewhat
+painfully.  "Arter all, Dick was mighty cut up about what he said, and
+I felt kinder sorry for him.  And, you know, I rather cotton to a man
+that speaks his mind.  Sorter clears him out, you know, of all the
+slumgullion that's in him.  It's just like washin' out a pan o'
+prospecting: you pour in the water, and keep slushing it round and
+round, and out comes first the mud and dirt, and then the gravel, and
+then the black sand, and then--it's all out, and there's a speck o'
+gold glistenin' at the bottom!"
+
+"Then you think there _was_ suthin' in what he said?" said Uncle Jim,
+facing about slowly.
+
+An odd tone in his voice made Uncle Billy look up.  "No," he said
+quickly, shying with the instinct of an easy pleasure-loving nature
+from a possible grave situation.  "No, I don't think he ever got the
+color!  But wot are ye moonin' about for?  Ain't ye goin' to play?
+It's mor' 'n half past nine now."
+
+Thus adjured, Uncle Jim moved up to the table and sat down, while Uncle
+Billy dealt the cards, turning up the Jack or right bower--but
+_without_ that exclamation of delight which always accompanied his good
+fortune, nor did Uncle Jim respond with the usual corresponding
+simulation of deep disgust.  Such a circumstance had not occurred
+before in the history of their partnership.  They both played in
+silence--a silence only interrupted by a larger splash of raindrops
+down the chimney.
+
+"We orter put a couple of stones on the chimney-top, edgewise, like
+Jack Curtis does.  It keeps out the rain without interferin' with the
+draft," said Uncle Billy musingly.
+
+"What's the use if"--
+
+"If what?" said Uncle Billy quietly.
+
+"If we don't make it broader," said Uncle Jim half wearily.
+
+They both stared at the chimney, but Uncle Jim's eye followed the wall
+around to the bunks.  There were many discolorations on the canvas, and
+a picture of the Goddess of Liberty from an illustrated paper had
+broken out in a kind of damp, measly eruption.  "I'll stick that funny
+handbill of the 'Washin' Soda' I got at the grocery store the other day
+right over the Liberty gal.  It's a mighty perty woman washin' with
+short sleeves," said Uncle Billy.  "That's the comfort of them picters,
+you kin always get somethin' new, and it adds thickness to the wall."
+
+Uncle Jim went back to the cards in silence.  After a moment he rose
+again, and hung his overcoat against the door.
+
+"Wind's comin' in," he said briefly.
+
+"Yes," said Uncle Billy cheerfully, "but it wouldn't seem nat'ral if
+there wasn't that crack in the door to let the sunlight in o' mornin's.
+Makes a kind o' sundial, you know.  When the streak o' light's in that
+corner, I says 'six o'clock!' when it's across the chimney I say
+'seven!' and so 'tis!"
+
+It certainly had grown chilly, and the wind was rising.  The candle
+guttered and flickered; the embers on the hearth brightened
+occasionally, as if trying to dispel the gathering shadows, but always
+ineffectually.  The game was frequently interrupted by the necessity of
+stirring the fire.  After an interval of gloom, in which each partner
+successively drew the candle to his side to examine his cards, Uncle
+Jim said:--
+
+"Say?"
+
+"Well!" responded Uncle Billy.
+
+"Are you sure you saw that third crow on the wood-pile?"
+
+"Sure as I see you now--and a darned sight plainer.  Why?"
+
+"Nothin', I was just thinkin'.  Look here!  How do we stand now?"
+
+Uncle Billy was still losing.  "Nevertheless," he said cheerfully, "I'm
+owin' you a matter of sixty thousand dollars."
+
+Uncle Jim examined the book abstractedly.  "Suppose," he said slowly,
+but without looking at his partner, "suppose, as it's gettin' late now,
+we play for my half share of the claim agin the limit--seventy
+thousand--to square up."
+
+"Your half share!" repeated Uncle Billy, with amused incredulity.
+
+"My half share of the claim,--of this yer house, you know,--one-half of
+all that Dick Bullen calls our rotten starvation property," reiterated
+Uncle Jim, with a half smile.
+
+Uncle Billy laughed.  It was a novel idea; it was, of course, "all in
+the air," like the rest of their game, yet even then he had an odd
+feeling that he would have liked Dick Bullen to have known it.  "Wade
+in, old pard," he said.  "I'm on it."
+
+Uncle Jim lit another candle to reinforce the fading light, and the
+deal fell to Uncle Billy.  He turned up Jack of clubs.  He also turned
+a little redder as he took up his cards, looked at them, and glanced
+hastily at his partner.  "It's no use playing," he said.  "Look here!"
+He laid down his cards on the table.  They were the ace, king and queen
+of clubs, and Jack of spades,--or left bower,--which, with the
+turned-up Jack of clubs,--or right bower,--comprised all the winning
+cards!
+
+"By jingo!  If we'd been playin' fourhanded, say you an' me agin some
+other ducks, we'd have made 'four' in that deal, and h'isted some
+money--eh?" and his eyes sparkled.  Uncle Jim, also, had a slight
+tremulous light in his own.
+
+"Oh no!  I didn't see no three crows this afternoon," added Uncle Billy
+gleefully, as his partner, in turn, began to shuffle the cards with
+laborious and conscientious exactitude.  Then dealing, he turned up a
+heart for trumps.  Uncle Billy took up his cards one by one, but when
+he had finished his face had become as pale as it had been red before.
+"What's the matter?" said Uncle Jim quickly, his own face growing white.
+
+Uncle Billy slowly and with breathless awe laid down his cards, face up
+on the table.  It was exactly the same sequence _in hearts_, with the
+knave of diamonds added.  He could again take every trick.
+
+They stared at each other with vacant faces and a half-drawn smile of
+fear.  They could hear the wind moaning in the trees beyond; there was
+a sudden rattling at the door.  Uncle Billy started to his feet, but
+Uncle Jim caught his arm.  "_Don't leave the cards_!  It's only the
+wind; sit down," he said in a low awe-hushed voice, "it's your deal;
+you were two before, and two now, that makes you four; you've only one
+point to make to win the game.  Go on."
+
+They both poured out a cup of whiskey, smiling vaguely, yet with a
+certain terror in their eyes.  Their hands were cold; the cards slipped
+from Uncle Billy's benumbed fingers; when he had shuffled them he
+passed them to his partner to shuffle them also, but did not speak.
+When Uncle Jim had shuffled them methodically he handed them back
+fatefully to his partner.  Uncle Billy dealt them with a trembling
+hand.  He turned up a club.  "If you are sure of these tricks you know
+you've won," said Uncle Jim in a voice that was scarcely audible.
+Uncle Billy did not reply, but tremulously laid down the ace and right
+and left bowers.
+
+He had won!
+
+A feeling of relief came over each, and they laughed hysterically and
+discordantly.  Ridiculous and childish as their contest might have
+seemed to a looker-on, to each the tension had been as great as that of
+the greatest gambler, without the gambler's trained restraint,
+coolness, and composure.  Uncle Billy nervously took up the cards again.
+
+"Don't," said Uncle Jim gravely; "it's no use--the luck's gone now."
+
+"Just one more deal," pleaded his partner.
+
+Uncle Jim looked at the fire, Uncle Billy hastily dealt, and threw the
+two hands face up on the table.  They were the ordinary average cards.
+He dealt again, with the same result.  "I told you so," said Uncle Jim,
+without looking up.
+
+It certainly seemed a tame performance after their wonderful hands, and
+after another trial Uncle Billy threw the cards aside and drew his
+stool before the fire.  "Mighty queer, warn't it?" he said, with
+reminiscent awe.  "Three times running.  Do you know, I felt a kind o'
+creepy feelin' down my back all the time.  Criky! what luck!  None of
+the boys would believe it if we told 'em--least of all that Dick
+Bullen, who don't believe in luck, anyway.  Wonder what he'd have said!
+and, Lord! how he'd have looked!  Wall! what are you starin' so for?"
+
+Uncle Jim had faced around, and was gazing at Uncle Billy's
+good-humored, simple face.  "Nothin'!" he said briefly, and his eyes
+again sought the fire.
+
+"Then don't look as if you was seein' suthin'--you give me the creeps,"
+returned Uncle Billy a little petulantly.  "Let's turn in, afore the
+fire goes out!"
+
+The fateful cards were put back into the drawer, the table shoved
+against the wall.  The operation of undressing was quickly got over,
+the clothes they wore being put on top of their blankets.  Uncle Billy
+yawned, "I wonder what kind of a dream I'll have to-night--it oughter
+be suthin' to explain that luck."  This was his "good-night" to his
+partner.  In a few moments he was sound asleep.
+
+Not so Uncle Jim.  He heard the wind gradually go down, and in the
+oppressive silence that followed could detect the deep breathing of his
+companion and the far-off yelp of a coyote.  His eyesight becoming
+accustomed to the semi-darkness, broken only by the scintillation of
+the dying embers of their fire, he could take in every detail of their
+sordid cabin and the rude environment in which they had lived so long.
+The dismal patches on the bark roof, the wretched makeshifts of each
+day, the dreary prolongation of discomfort, were all plain to him now,
+without the sanguine hope that had made them bearable.  And when he
+shut his eyes upon them, it was only to travel in fancy down the steep
+mountain side that he had trodden so often to the dreary claim on the
+overflowed river, to the heaps of "tailings" that encumbered it, like
+empty shells of the hollow, profitless days spent there, which they
+were always waiting for the stroke of good fortune to clear away.  He
+saw again the rotten "sluicing," through whose hopeless rifts and holes
+even their scant daily earnings had become scantier.  At last he arose,
+and with infinite gentleness let himself down from his berth without
+disturbing his sleeping partner, and wrapping himself in his blanket,
+went to the door, which he noiselessly opened.  From the position of a
+few stars that were glittering in the northern sky he knew that it was
+yet scarcely midnight; there were still long, restless hours before the
+day!  In the feverish state into which he had gradually worked himself
+it seemed to him impossible to wait the coming of the dawn.
+
+But he was mistaken.  For even as he stood there all nature seemed to
+invade his humble cabin with its free and fragrant breath, and invest
+him with its great companionship.  He felt again, in that breath, that
+strange sense of freedom, that mystic touch of partnership with the
+birds and beasts, the shrubs and trees, in this greater home before
+him.  It was this vague communion that had kept him there, that still
+held these world-sick, weary workers in their rude cabins on the slopes
+around him; and he felt upon his brow that balm that had nightly lulled
+him and them to sleep and forgetfulness.  He closed the door, turned
+away, crept as noiselessly as before into his bunk again, and presently
+fell into a profound slumber.
+
+But when Uncle Billy awoke the next morning he saw it was late; for the
+sun, piercing the crack of the closed door, was sending a pencil of
+light across the cold hearth, like a match to rekindle its dead embers.
+His first thought was of his strange luck the night before, and of
+disappointment that he had not had the dream of divination that he had
+looked for.  He sprang to the floor, but as he stood upright his glance
+fell on Uncle Jim's bunk.  It was empty.  Not only that, but his
+_blankets_--Uncle Jim's own particular blankets--_were gone_!
+
+A sudden revelation of his partner's manner the night before struck him
+now with the cruelty of a blow; a sudden intelligence, perhaps the very
+divination he had sought, flashed upon him like lightning!  He glanced
+wildly around the cabin.  The table was drawn out from the wall a
+little ostentatiously, as if to catch his eye.  On it was lying the
+stained chamois-skin purse in which they had kept the few grains of
+gold remaining from their last week's "clean up."  The grains had been
+carefully divided, and half had been taken!  But near it lay the little
+memorandum-book, open, with the stick of pencil lying across it.  A
+deep line was drawn across the page on which was recorded their
+imaginary extravagant gains and losses, even to the entry of Uncle
+Jim's half share of the claim which he had risked and lost!  Underneath
+were hurriedly scrawled the words:--
+
+"Settled by _your_ luck, last night, old pard.--James Foster."
+
+
+It was nearly a month before Cedar Camp was convinced that Uncle Billy
+and Uncle Jim had dissolved partnership.  Pride had prevented Uncle
+Billy from revealing his suspicions of the truth, or of relating the
+events that preceded Uncle Jim's clandestine flight, and Dick Bullen
+had gone to Sacramento by stage-coach the same morning.  He briefly
+gave out that his partner had been called to San Francisco on important
+business of their own, that indeed might necessitate his own removal
+there later.  In this he was singularly assisted by a letter from the
+absent Jim, dated at San Francisco, begging him not to be anxious about
+his success, as he had hopes of presently entering a profitable
+business, but with no further allusions to his precipitate departure,
+nor any suggestion of a reason for it.  For two or three days Uncle
+Billy was staggered and bewildered; in his profound simplicity he
+wondered if his extraordinary good fortune that night had made him deaf
+to some explanation of his partner's, or, more terrible, if he had
+shown some "low" and incredible intimation of taking his partner's
+extravagant bet as real and binding.  In this distress he wrote to
+Uncle Jim an appealing and apologetic letter, albeit somewhat
+incoherent and inaccurate, and bristling with misspelling, camp slang,
+and old partnership jibes.  But to this elaborate epistle he received
+only Uncle Jim's repeated assurances of his own bright prospects, and
+his hopes that his old partner would be more fortunate, single-handed,
+on the old claim.  For a whole week or two Uncle Billy sulked, but his
+invincible optimism and good humor got the better of him, and he
+thought only of his old partner's good fortune.  He wrote him
+regularly, but always to one address--a box at the San Francisco
+post-office, which to the simple-minded Uncle Billy suggested a certain
+official importance.  To these letters Uncle Jim responded regularly
+but briefly.
+
+From a certain intuitive pride in his partner and his affection, Uncle
+Billy did not show these letters openly to the camp, although he spoke
+freely of his former partner's promising future, and even read them
+short extracts.  It is needless to say that the camp did not accept
+Uncle Billy's story with unsuspecting confidence.  On the contrary, a
+hundred surmises, humorous or serious, but always extravagant, were
+afloat in Cedar Camp.  The partners had quarreled over their
+clothes--Uncle Jim, who was taller than Uncle Billy, had refused to
+wear his partner's trousers.  They had quarreled over cards--Uncle Jim
+had discovered that Uncle Billy was in possession of a "cold deck," or
+marked pack.  They had quarreled over Uncle Billy's carelessness in
+grinding up half a box of "bilious pills" in the morning's coffee.  A
+gloomily imaginative mule-driver had darkly suggested that, as no one
+had really seen Uncle Jim leave the camp, he was still there, and his
+bones would yet be found in one of the ditches; while a still more
+credulous miner averred that what he had thought was the cry of a
+screech-owl the night previous to Uncle Jim's disappearance, might have
+been the agonized utterance of that murdered man.  It was highly
+characteristic of that camp--and, indeed, of others in California--that
+nobody, not even the ingenious theorists themselves, believed their
+story, and that no one took the slightest pains to verify or disprove
+it.  Happily, Uncle Billy never knew it, and moved all unconsciously in
+this atmosphere of burlesque suspicion.  And then a singular change
+took place in the attitude of the camp towards him and the disrupted
+partnership.  Hitherto, for no reason whatever, all had agreed to put
+the blame upon Billy--possibly because he was present to receive it.
+As days passed that slight reticence and dejection in his manner, which
+they had at first attributed to remorse and a guilty conscience, now
+began to tell as absurdly in his favor.  Here was poor Uncle Billy
+toiling through the ditches, while his selfish partner was lolling in
+the lap of luxury in San Francisco!  Uncle Billy's glowing accounts of
+Uncle Jim's success only contributed to the sympathy now fully given in
+his behalf and their execration of the absconding partner.  It was
+proposed at Bigg's store that a letter expressing the indignation of
+the camp over his heartless conduct to his late partner, William Fall,
+should be forwarded to him.  Condolences were offered to Uncle Billy,
+and uncouth attempts were made to cheer his loneliness.  A procession
+of half a dozen men twice a week to his cabin, carrying their own
+whiskey and winding up with a "stag dance" before the premises, was
+sufficient to lighten his eclipsed gayety and remind him of a happier
+past.  "Surprise" working parties visited his claim with spasmodic
+essays towards helping him, and great good humor and hilarity
+prevailed.  It was not an unusual thing for an honest miner to arise
+from an idle gathering in some cabin and excuse himself with the remark
+that he "reckoned he'd put in an hour's work in Uncle Billy's
+tailings!"  And yet, as before, it was very improbable if any of these
+reckless benefactors _really_ believed in their own earnestness or in
+the gravity of the situation.  Indeed, a kind of hopeful cynicism ran
+through their performances.  "Like as not, Uncle Billy is still in
+'cahoots' (_i.e._, shares) with his old pard, and is just laughin' at
+us as he's sendin' him accounts of our tomfoolin'."
+
+And so the winter passed and the rains, and the days of cloudless skies
+and chill starlit nights began.  There were still freshets from the
+snow reservoirs piled high in the Sierran passes, and the Bar was
+flooded, but that passed too, and only the sunshine remained.
+Monotonous as the seasons were, there was a faint movement in the camp
+with the stirring of the sap in the pines and cedars.  And then, one
+day, there was a strange excitement on the Bar.  Men were seen running
+hither and thither, but mainly gathering in a crowd on Uncle Billy's
+claim, that still retained the old partners' names in "The Fall and
+Foster."  To add to the excitement; there was the quickly repeated
+report of a revolver, to all appearance aimlessly exploded in the air
+by some one on the outskirts of the assemblage.  As the crowd opened,
+Uncle Billy appeared, pale, hysterical, breathless, and staggering a
+little under the back-slapping and hand-shaking of the whole camp.  For
+Uncle Billy had "struck it rich"--had just discovered a "pocket,"
+roughly estimated to be worth fifteen thousand dollars!
+
+Although in that supreme moment he missed the face of his old partner,
+he could not help seeing the unaffected delight and happiness shining
+in the eyes of all who surrounded him.  It was characteristic of that
+sanguine but uncertain life that success and good fortune brought no
+jealousy nor envy to the unfortunate, but was rather a promise and
+prophecy of the fulfillment of their own hopes.  The gold was
+there--Nature but yielded up her secret.  There was no prescribed limit
+to her bounty.  So strong was this conviction that a long-suffering but
+still hopeful miner, in the enthusiasm of the moment, stooped down and
+patted a large boulder with the apostrophic "Good old gal!"
+
+Then followed a night of jubilee, a next morning of hurried
+consultation with a mining expert and speculator lured to the camp by
+the good tidings; and then the very next night--to the utter
+astonishment of Cedar Camp--Uncle Billy, with a draft for twenty
+thousand dollars in his pocket, started for San Francisco, and took
+leave of his claim and the camp forever!
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+When Uncle Billy landed at the wharves of San Francisco he was a little
+bewildered.  The Golden Gate beyond was obliterated by the incoming
+sea-fog, which had also roofed in the whole city, and lights already
+glittered along the gray streets that climbed the grayer sand-hills.
+As a Western man, brought up by inland rivers, he was fascinated and
+thrilled by the tall-masted sea-going ships, and he felt a strange
+sense of the remoter mysterious ocean, which he had never seen.  But he
+was impressed and startled by smartly dressed men and women, the
+passing of carriages, and a sudden conviction that he was strange and
+foreign to what he saw.  It had been his cherished intention to call
+upon his old partner in his working clothes, and then clap down on the
+table before him a draft for ten thousand dollars as _his_ share of
+their old claim.  But in the face of these brilliant strangers a sudden
+and unexpected timidity came upon him.  He had heard of a cheap popular
+hotel, much frequented by the returning gold-miner, who entered its
+hospitable doors--which held an easy access to shops--and emerged in a
+few hours a gorgeous butterfly of fashion, leaving his old chrysalis
+behind him.  Thence he inquired his way; hence he afterwards issued in
+garments glaringly new and ill fitting.  But he had not sacrificed his
+beard, and there was still something fine and original in his handsome
+weak face that overcame the cheap convention of his clothes.  Making
+his way to the post-office, he was again discomfited by the great size
+of the building, and bewildered by the array of little square
+letter-boxes behind glass which occupied one whole wall, and an equal
+number of opaque and locked wooden ones legibly numbered.  His heart
+leaped; he remembered the number, and before him was a window with a
+clerk behind it.  Uncle Billy leaned forward.
+
+"Kin you tell me if the man that box 690 b'longs to is in?"
+
+The clerk stared, made him repeat the question, and then turned away.
+But he returned almost instantly, with two or three grinning heads
+besides his own, apparently set behind his shoulders.  Uncle Billy was
+again asked to repeat his question.  He did so.
+
+"Why don't you go and see if 690 is in the box?" said the first clerk,
+turning with affected asperity to one of the others.
+
+The clerk went away, returned, and said with singular gravity, "He was
+there a moment ago, but he's gone out to stretch his legs.  It's rather
+crampin' at first; and he can't stand it more than ten hours at a time,
+you know."
+
+But simplicity has its limits.  Uncle Billy had already guessed his
+real error in believing his partner was officially connected with the
+building; his cheek had flushed and then paled again.  The pupils of
+his blue eyes had contracted into suggestive black points.  "Ef you'll
+let me in at that winder, young fellers," he said, with equal gravity,
+"I'll show yer how I kin make _you_ small enough to go in a box without
+crampin'!  But I only wanted to know where Jim Foster _lived_."
+
+At which the first clerk became perfunctory again, but civil.  "A
+letter left in his box would get you that information," he said, "and
+here's paper and pencil to write it now."
+
+Uncle Billy took the paper and began to write, "Just got here.  Come
+and see me at"--  He paused.  A brilliant idea had struck him; he could
+impress both his old partner and the upstarts at the window; he would
+put in the name of the latest "swell" hotel in San Francisco, said to
+be a fairy dream of opulence.  He added "The Oriental," and without
+folding the paper shoved it in the window.
+
+"Don't you want an envelope?" asked the clerk.
+
+"Put a stamp on the corner of it," responded Uncle Billy, laying down a
+coin, "and she'll go through."  The clerk smiled, but affixed the
+stamp, and Uncle Billy turned away.
+
+But it was a short-lived triumph.  The disappointment at finding Uncle
+Jim's address conveyed no idea of his habitation seemed to remove him
+farther away, and lose his identity in the great city.  Besides, he
+must now make good his own address, and seek rooms at the Oriental.  He
+went thither.  The furniture and decorations, even in these early days
+of hotel-building in San Francisco, were extravagant and overstrained,
+and Uncle Billy felt lost and lonely in his strange surroundings.  But
+he took a handsome suite of rooms, paid for them in advance on the
+spot, and then, half frightened, walked out of them to ramble vaguely
+through the city in the feverish hope of meeting his old partner.  At
+night his inquietude increased; he could not face the long row of
+tables in the pillared dining-room, filled with smartly dressed men and
+women; he evaded his bedroom, with its brocaded satin chairs and its
+gilt bedstead, and fled to his modest lodgings at the Good Cheer House,
+and appeased his hunger at its cheap restaurant, in the company of
+retired miners and freshly arrived Eastern emigrants.  Two or three
+days passed thus in this quaint double existence.  Three or four times
+a day he would enter the gorgeous Oriental with affected ease and
+carelessness, demand his key from the hotel-clerk, ask for the letter
+that did not come, go to his room, gaze vaguely from his window on the
+passing crowd below for the partner he could not find, and then return
+to the Good Cheer House for rest and sustenance.  On the fourth day he
+received a short note from Uncle Jim; it was couched in his usual
+sanguine but brief and business-like style.  He was very sorry, but
+important and profitable business took him out of town, but he trusted
+to return soon and welcome his old partner.  He was also, for the first
+time, jocose, and hoped that Uncle Billy would not "see all the sights"
+before he, Uncle Jim, returned.  Disappointing as this procrastination
+was to Uncle Billy, a gleam of hope irradiated it: the letter had
+bridged over that gulf which seemed to yawn between them at the
+post-office.  His old partner had accepted his visit to San Francisco
+without question, and had alluded to a renewal of their old intimacy.
+For Uncle Billy, with all his trustful simplicity, had been tortured by
+two harrowing doubts: one, whether Uncle Jim in his new-fledged
+smartness as a "city" man--such as he saw in the streets--would care
+for his rough companionship; the other, whether he, Uncle Billy, ought
+not to tell him at once of his changed fortune.  But, like all weak,
+unreasoning men, he clung desperately to a detail--he could not forego
+his old idea of astounding Uncle Jim by giving him his share of the
+"strike" as his first intimation of it, and he doubted, with more
+reason perhaps, if Jim would see him after he had heard of his good
+fortune.  For Uncle Billy had still a frightened recollection of Uncle
+Jim's sudden stroke for independence, and that rigid punctiliousness
+which had made him doggedly accept the responsibility of his
+extravagant stake at euchre.
+
+With a view of educating himself for Uncle Jim's company, he "saw the
+sights" of San Francisco--as an over-grown and somewhat stupid child
+might have seen them--with great curiosity, but little contamination or
+corruption.  But I think he was chiefly pleased with watching the
+arrival of the Sacramento and Stockton steamers at the wharves, in the
+hope of discovering his old partner among the passengers on the
+gang-plank.  Here, with his old superstitious tendency and gambler's
+instinct, he would augur great success in his search that day if any
+one of the passengers bore the least resemblance to Uncle Jim, if a man
+or woman stepped off first, or if he met a single person's questioning
+eye.  Indeed, this got to be the real occupation of the day, which he
+would on no account have omitted, and to a certain extent revived each
+day in his mind the morning's work of their old partnership.  He would
+say to himself, "It's time to go and look up Jim," and put off what he
+was pleased to think were his pleasures until this act of duty was
+accomplished.
+
+In this singleness of purpose he made very few and no entangling
+acquaintances, nor did he impart to any one the secret of his fortune,
+loyally reserving it for his partner's first knowledge.  To a man of
+his natural frankness and simplicity this was a great trial, and was,
+perhaps, a crucial test of his devotion.  When he gave up his rooms at
+the Oriental--as not necessary after his partner's absence--he sent a
+letter, with his humble address, to the mysterious lock-box of his
+partner without fear or false shame.  He would explain it all when they
+met.  But he sometimes treated unlucky and returning miners to a dinner
+and a visit to the gallery of some theatre.  Yet while he had an active
+sympathy with and understanding of the humblest, Uncle Billy, who for
+many years had done his own and his partner's washing, scrubbing,
+mending, and cooking, and saw no degradation in it, was somewhat
+inconsistently irritated by menial functions in men, and although he
+gave extravagantly to waiters, and threw a dollar to the
+crossing-sweeper, there was always a certain shy avoidance of them in
+his manner.  Coming from the theatre one night Uncle Billy was,
+however, seriously concerned by one of these crossing-sweepers turning
+hastily before them and being knocked down by a passing carriage.  The
+man rose and limped hurriedly away; but Uncle Billy was amazed and
+still more irritated to hear from his companion that this kind of
+menial occupation was often profitable, and that at some of the
+principal crossings the sweepers were already rich men.
+
+But a few days later brought a more notable event to Uncle Billy.  One
+afternoon in Montgomery Street he recognized in one of its smartly
+dressed frequenters a man who had a few years before been a member of
+Cedar Camp.  Uncle Billy's childish delight at this meeting, which
+seemed to bridge over his old partner's absence, was, however, only
+half responded to by the ex-miner, and then somewhat satirically.  In
+the fulness of his emotion, Uncle Billy confided to him that he was
+seeking his old partner, Jim Foster, and, reticent of his own good
+fortune, spoke glowingly of his partner's brilliant expectations, but
+deplored his inability to find him.  And just now he was away on
+important business.  "I reckon he's got back," said the man dryly.  "I
+didn't know he had a lock-box at the post-office, but I can give you
+his other address.  He lives at the Presidio, at Washerwoman's Bay."
+He stopped and looked with a satirical smile at Uncle Billy.  But the
+latter, familiar with Californian mining-camp nomenclature, saw nothing
+strange in it, and merely repeated his companion's words.
+
+"You'll find him there!  Good-by!  So long!  Sorry I'm in a hurry,"
+said the ex-miner, and hurried away.
+
+Uncle Billy was too delighted with the prospect of a speedy meeting
+with Uncle Jim to resent his former associate's supercilious haste, or
+even to wonder why Uncle Jim had not informed him that he had returned.
+It was not the first time that he had felt how wide was the gulf
+between himself and these others, and the thought drew him closer to
+his old partner, as well as his old idea, as it was now possible to
+surprise him with the draft.  But as he was going to surprise him in
+his own boarding-house--probably a handsome one--Uncle Billy reflected
+that he would do so in a certain style.
+
+He accordingly went to a livery stable and ordered a landau and pair,
+with a negro coachman.  Seated in it, in his best and most ill-fitting
+clothes, he asked the coachman to take him to the Presidio, and leaned
+back in the cushions as they drove through the streets with such an
+expression of beaming gratification on his good-humored face that the
+passers-by smiled at the equipage and its extravagant occupant.  To
+them it seemed the not unusual sight of the successful miner "on a
+spree."  To the unsophisticated Uncle Billy their smiling seemed only a
+natural and kindly recognition of his happiness, and he nodded and
+smiled back to them with unsuspecting candor and innocent playfulness.
+"These yer 'Frisco fellers ain't _all_ slouches, you bet," he added to
+himself half aloud, at the back of the grinning coachman.
+
+Their way led through well-built streets to the outskirts, or rather to
+that portion of the city which seemed to have been overwhelmed by
+shifting sand-dunes, from which half-submerged fences and even low
+houses barely marked the foe of highway.  The resistless trade-winds
+which had marked this change blew keenly in his face and slightly
+chilled his ardor.  At a turn in the road the sea came im sight, and
+sloping towards it the great Cemetery of Lone Mountain, with white
+shafts and marbles that glittered in the sunlight like the sails of
+ships waiting to be launched down that slope into the Eternal Ocean.
+Uncle Billy shuddered.  What if it had been his fate to seek Uncle Jim
+there!
+
+"Dar's yar Presidio!" said the negro coachman a few moments later,
+pointing with his whip, "and dar's yar Wash'woman's Bay!"
+
+Uncle Billy stared.  A huge quadrangular fort of stone with a flag
+flying above its battlements stood at a little distance, pressed
+against the rocks, as if beating back the encroaching surges; between
+him and the fort but farther inland was a lagoon with a number of
+dilapidated, rudely patched cabins or cottages, like stranded driftwood
+around its shore.  But there was no mansion, no block of houses, no
+street, not another habitation or dwelling to be seen!
+
+Uncle Billy's first shock of astonishment was succeeded by a feeling of
+relief.  He had secretly dreaded a meeting with his old partner in the
+"haunts of fashion"; whatever was the cause that made Uncle Jim seek
+this obscure retirement affected him but slightly; he even was thrilled
+with a vague memory of the old shiftless camp they had both abandoned.
+A certain instinct---he knew not why, or less still that it might be
+one of delicacy--made him alight before they reached the first house.
+Bidding the carriage wait; Uncle Billy entered, and was informed by a
+blowzy Irish laundress at a tub that Jim Foster, or "Arkansaw Jim,"
+lived at the fourth shanty "beyant."  He was at home, for "he'd
+shprained his fut."  Uncle Billy hurried on, stopped before the door of
+a shanty scarcely less rude than their old cabin, and half timidly
+pushed it open.  A growling voice from within, a figure that rose
+hurriedly, leaning on a stick, with an attempt to fly, but in the same
+moment sank back in a chair with an hysterical laugh--and Uncle Billy
+stood in the presence of his old partner!  But as Uncle Billy darted
+forward, Uncle Jim rose again, and this time with outstretched hands.
+Uncle Billy caught them, and in one supreme pressure seemed to pour out
+and transfuse his whole simple soul into his partner's.  There they
+swayed each other backwards and forwards and sideways by their still
+clasped hands, until Uncle Billy, with a glance at Uncle Jim's bandaged
+ankle, shoved him by sheer force down into his chair.
+
+Uncle Jim was first to speak.  "Caught, b'gosh!  I mighter known you'd
+be as big a fool as me!  Look you, Billy Fall, do you know what you've
+done?  You've druv me out er the streets whar I was makin' an honest
+livin', by day, on three crossin's!  Yes," he laughed forgivingly, "you
+druv me out er it, by day, jest because I reckoned that some time I
+might run into your darned fool face,"--another laugh and a grasp of
+the hand,--"and then, b'gosh! not content with ruinin' my business _by
+day_, when I took to it at night; _you_ took to goin' out at nights
+too, and so put a stopper on me there!  Shall I tell you what else you
+did?  Well, by the holy poker!  I owe this sprained foot to your darned
+foolishness and my own, for it was getting away from _you_ one night
+after the theatre that I got run into and run over!
+
+"Ye see," he went on, unconscious of Uncle Billy's paling face, and
+with a _naivete_, though perhaps not a delicacy, equal to Uncle Billy's
+own, "I had to play roots on you with that lock-box business and these
+letters, because I did not want you to know what I was up to, for you
+mightn't like it, and might think it was lowerin' to the old firm,
+don't yer see?  I wouldn't hev gone into it, but I was played out, and
+I don't mind tellin' you _now_, old man, that when I wrote you that
+first chipper letter from the lock-box I hedn't eat anythin' for two
+days.  But it's all right _now_," with a laugh.  "Then I got into this
+business--thinkin' it nothin'--jest the very last thing--and do you
+know, old pard, I couldn't tell anybody but you--and, in fact, I kept
+it jest to tell you--I've made nine hundred and fifty-six dollars!
+Yes, sir, _nine hundred and fifty-six dollars_! solid money, in Adams
+and Co.'s Bank, just out er my trade."
+
+"Wot trade?" asked Uncle Billy.
+
+Uncle Jim pointed to the corner, where stood a large, heavy
+crossing-sweeper's broom.  "That trade."
+
+"Certingly," said Uncle Billy, with a quick laugh.
+
+"It's an outdoor trade," said Uncle Jim gravely, but with no suggestion
+of awkwardness or apology in his manner; "and thar ain't much
+difference between sweepin' a crossin' with a broom and raking over
+tailing with a rake, _only--wot ye get_ with a broom _you have handed
+to ye_, and ye don't have to _pick it up and fish it out er_ the wet
+rocks and sluice-gushin'; and it's a heap less tiring to the back."
+
+"Certingly, you bet!" said Uncle Billy enthusiastically, yet with a
+certain nervous abstraction.
+
+"I'm glad ye say so; for yer see I didn't know at first how you'd
+tumble to my doing it, until I'd made my pile.  And ef I hadn't made
+it, I wouldn't hev set eyes on ye agin, old pard--never!"
+
+"Do you mind my runnin' out a minit?" said Uncle Billy, rising.  "You
+see, I've got a friend waitin' for me outside--and I reckon"--he
+stammered--"I'll jest run out and send him off, so I kin talk comf'ble
+to ye."
+
+"Ye ain't got anybody you're owin' money to," said Uncle Jim earnestly,
+"anybody follerin' you to get paid, eh?  For I kin jest set down right
+here and write ye off a check on the bank!"
+
+"No," said Uncle Billy.  He slipped out of the door, and ran like a
+deer to the waiting carriage.  Thrusting a twenty-dollar gold-piece
+into the coachman's hand, he said hoarsely, "I ain't wantin' that
+kerridge just now; ye ken drive around and hev a private jamboree all
+by yourself the rest of the afternoon, and then come and wait for me at
+the top o' the hill yonder."
+
+Thus quit of his gorgeous equipage, he hurried back to Uncle Jim,
+grasping his ten thousand dollar draft in his pocket.  He was nervous,
+he was frightened, but he must get rid of the draft and his story, and
+have it over.  But before he could speak he was unexpectedly stopped by
+Uncle Jim.
+
+"Now, look yer, Billy boy!" said Uncle Jim; "I got suthin' to say to
+ye--and I might as well clear it off my mind at once, and then we can
+start fair agin.  Now," he went on, with a half laugh, "wasn't it
+enough for _me_ to go on pretendin' I was rich and doing a big
+business, and gettin' up that lock-box dodge so as ye couldn't find out
+whar I hung out and what I was doin'--wasn't it enough for me to go on
+with all this play-actin', but _you_, you long-legged or'nary cuss!
+must get up and go to lyin' and play-acting too!"
+
+"_Me_ play-actin'?  _Me_ lyin'?" gasped Uncle Billy.
+
+Uncle Jim leaned back in his chair and laughed.  "Do you think you
+could fool _me_?  Do you think I didn't see through your little game o'
+going to that swell Oriental, jest as if ye'd made a big strike--and
+all the while ye wasn't sleepin' 'or eatin' there, but jest wrastlin'
+yer hash and having a roll down at the Good Cheer!  Do you think I
+didn't spy on ye and find that out?  Oh, you long-eared jackass-rabbit!"
+
+He laughed until the tears came into his eyes, and Uncle Billy laughed
+too, albeit until the laugh on his face became quite fixed, and he was
+fain to bury his head in his handkerchief.
+
+"And yet," said Uncle Jim, with a deep breath, "gosh!  I was
+frightened--jest for a minit!  I thought, mebbe, you _had_ made a big
+strike--when I got your first letter--and I made up my mind what I'd
+do!  And then I remembered you was jest that kind of an open sluice
+that couldn't keep anythin' to yourself, and you'd have been sure to
+have yelled it out to _me_ the first thing.  So I waited.  And I found
+you out, you old sinner!"  He reached forward and dug Uncle Billy in
+the ribs.
+
+"What _would_ you hev done?" said Uncle Billy, after an hysterical
+collapse.
+
+Uncle Jim's face grew grave again.  "I'd hev--I'd--hev cl'ared out!
+Out er 'Frisco! out er Californy! out er Ameriky!  I couldn't have stud
+it!  Don't think I would hev begrudged ye yer luck!  No man would have
+been gladder than me."  He leaned forward again, and laid his hand
+caressingly upon his partner's arm--"Don't think I'd hev wanted to take
+a penny of it--but I--thar!  I _couldn't_ hev stood up under it!  To
+hev had _you_, you, you that I left behind, comin' down here rollin' in
+wealth and new partners and friends, and arrive upon me--and this
+shonty--and"--he threw towards the corner of the room a terrible
+gesture, none the less terrible that it was illogical and inconsequent,
+to all that had gone before--"and--and--_that broom_!"
+
+There was a dead silence in the room.  With it Uncle Billy seemed to
+feel himself again transported to the homely cabin at Cedar Camp and
+that fateful night, with his partner's strange, determined face before
+him as then.  He even fancied that he heard the roaring of the pines
+without, and did not know that it was the distant sea.
+
+But after a minute Uncle Jim resumed:--
+
+"Of course you've made a little raise somehow, or you wouldn't be here?"
+
+"Yes," said Uncle Billy eagerly.  "Yes!  I've got"--  He stopped and
+stammered.  "I've got--a--few hundreds."
+
+"Oh, oh!" said Uncle Jim cheerfully.  He paused, and then added
+earnestly, "I say!  You ain't got left, over and above your d--d
+foolishness at the Oriental, as much as five hundred dollars?"
+
+"I've got," said Uncle Billy, blushing a little over his first
+deliberate and affected lie, "I've got at least five hundred and
+seventy-two dollars.  Yes," he added tentatively, gazing anxiously at
+his partner, "I've got at least that."
+
+"Jee whillikins!" said Uncle Jim, with a laugh.  Then eagerly, "Look
+here, pard!  Then we're on velvet!  I've got _nine_ hundred; put your
+_five_ with that, and I know a little ranch that we can get for twelve
+hundred.  That's what I've been savin' up for--that's my little game!
+No more minin' for _me_.  It's got a shanty twice as big as our old
+cabin, nigh on a hundred acres, and two mustangs.  We can run it with
+two Chinamen and jest make it howl!  Wot yer say--eh?"  He extended his
+hand.
+
+"I'm in," said Uncle Billy, radiantly grasping Uncle Jim's.  But his
+smile faded, and his clear simple brow wrinkled in two lines.
+
+Happily Uncle Jim did not notice it.  "Now, then, old pard," he said
+brightly, "we'll have a gay old time to-night--one of our jamborees!
+I've got some whisky here and a deck o' cards, and we'll have a little
+game, you understand, but not for 'keeps' now!  No, siree; we'll play
+for beans."
+
+A sudden light illuminated Uncle Billy's face again, but he said, with
+a grim desperation, "Not to-night!  I've got to go into town.  That
+fren' o' mine expects me to go to the theayter, don't ye see?  But I'll
+be out to-morrow at sun-up, and we'll fix up this thing o' the ranch."
+
+"Seems to me you're kinder stuck on this fren'," grunted Uncle Jim.
+
+Uncle Billy's heart bounded at his partner's jealousy.  "No--but I
+_must_, you know," he returned, with a faint laugh.
+
+"I say--it ain't a _her_, is it?" said Uncle Jim.
+
+Uncle Billy achieved a diabolical wink and a creditable blush at his
+lie.
+
+"Billy!"
+
+"Jim!"
+
+And under cover of this festive gallantry Uncle Billy escaped.  He ran
+through the gathering darkness, and toiled up the shifting sands to the
+top of the hill, where he found the carriage waiting.
+
+"Wot," said Uncle Billy in a low confidential tone to the coachman,
+"wot do you 'Frisco fellers allow to be the best, biggest, and riskiest
+gamblin'-saloon here?  Suthin' high-toned, you know?"
+
+The negro grinned.  It was the usual case of the extravagant
+spendthrift miner, though perhaps he had expected a different question
+and order.
+
+"Dey is de 'Polka,' de 'El Dorado,' and de 'Arcade' saloon, boss," he
+said, flicking his whip meditatively.  "Most gents from de mines prefer
+de 'Polka,' for dey is dancing wid de gals frown in.  But de real
+_prima facie_ place for gents who go for buckin' agin de tiger and
+straight-out gamblin' is de Arcade.'"
+
+"Drive there like thunder!" said Uncle Billy, leaping into the carriage.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+True to his word, Uncle Billy was at his partner's shanty early the
+next morning.  He looked a little tired, but happy, and had brought a
+draft with him for five hundred and seventy-five dollars, which he
+explained was the total of his capital.  Uncle Jim was overjoyed.  They
+would start for Napa that very day, and conclude the purchase of the
+ranch; Uncle Jim's sprained foot was a sufficient reason for his giving
+up his present vocation, which he could also sell at a small profit.
+His domestic arrangements were very simple; there was nothing to take
+with him--there was everything to leave behind.  And that afternoon, at
+sunset, the two reunited partners were seated on the deck of the Napa
+boat as she swung into the stream.
+
+Uncle Billy was gazing over the railing with a look of abstracted
+relief towards the Golden Gate, where the sinking sun seemed to be
+drawing towards him in the ocean a golden stream that was forever
+pouring from the Bay and the three-hilled city beside it.  What Uncle
+Billy was thinking of, or what the picture suggested to him, did not
+transpire; for Uncle Jim, who, emboldened by his holiday, was
+luxuriating in an evening paper, suddenly uttered a long-drawn whistle,
+and moved closer to his abstracted partner.  "Look yer," he said,
+pointing to a paragraph he had evidently just read, "just you listen to
+this, and see if we ain't lucky, you and me, to be jest wot we
+air--trustin' to our own hard work--and not thinkin' o' 'strikes' and
+'fortins.'  Jest unbutton yer ears, Billy, while I reel off this yer
+thing I've jest struck in the paper, and see what d--d fools some men
+kin make o' themselves.  And that theer reporter wot wrote it--must hev
+seed it reely!"
+
+Uncle Jim cleared his throat, and holding the paper close to his eyes
+read aloud slowly:--
+
+"'A scene of excitement that recalled the palmy days of '49 was
+witnessed last night at the Arcade Saloon.  A stranger, who might have
+belonged to that reckless epoch, and who bore every evidence of being a
+successful Pike County miner out on a "spree," appeared at one of the
+tables with a negro coachman bearing two heavy bags of gold.  Selecting
+a faro-bank as his base of operations, he began to bet heavily and with
+apparent recklessness, until his play excited the breathless attention
+of every one.  In a few moments he had won a sum variously estimated at
+from eighty to a hundred thousand dollars.  A rumor went round the room
+that it was a concerted attempt to "break the bank" rather than the
+drunken freak of a Western miner, dazzled by some successful strike.
+To this theory the man's careless and indifferent bearing towards his
+extraordinary gains lent great credence.  The attempt, if such it was,
+however, was unsuccessful.  After winning ten times in succession the
+luck turned, and the unfortunate "bucket" was cleared out not only of
+his gains, but of his original investment, which may be placed roughly
+at twenty thousand dollars.  This extraordinary play was witnessed by a
+crowd of excited players, who were less impressed by even the magnitude
+of the stakes than the perfect _sang froid_ and recklessness of the
+player, who, it is said, at the close of the game tossed a
+twenty-dollar gold-piece to the banker and smilingly withdrew.  The man
+was not recognized by any of the habitues of the place.'
+
+"There!" said Uncle Jim, as he hurriedly slurred over the French
+substantive at the close, "did ye ever see such God-forsaken
+foolishness?"
+
+Uncle Billy lifted his abstracted eyes from the current, still pouring
+its unreturning gold into the sulking sun, and said, with a deprecatory
+smile, "Never!"
+
+Nor even in the days of prosperity that visited the Great Wheat Ranch
+of "Fall and Foster" did he ever tell his secret to his partner.
+
+
+
+
+THE NOTARY OF PERIGUEUX
+
+By H. W. LONGFELLOW
+
+Do not trust thy body with a physician.  He'll make thy foolish bones
+go without flesh in a fortnight, and thy soul walk without a body in a
+se'nnight after.--_Shirley_.
+
+
+You must know, gentlemen, that there lived some years ago, in the city
+of Perigueux, an honest notary public, the descendant of a very ancient
+and broken-down family, and the occupant of one of those old
+weather-beaten tenements which remind you of the times of your
+great-grandfather.  He was a man of an unoffending, quiet disposition;
+the father of a family, though not the head of it--for in that family
+"the hen overcrowed the cock," and the neighbors, when they spake of
+the notary, shrugged their shoulders, and exclaimed, "Poor fellow! his
+spurs want sharpening."  In fine--you understand me, gentlemen--he was
+hen-pecked.
+
+Well, finding no peace at home, he sought it elsewhere, as was very
+natural for him to do; and at length discovered a place of rest far
+beyond the cares and clamors of domestic life.  This was a little _cafe
+estaminet_ a short way out of the city, whither he repaired every
+evening to smoke his pipe, drink sugar-water, and play his favorite
+game of domino.  There he met the boon companions he most loved; heard
+all the floating chit-chat of the day; laughed when he was in a merry
+mood; found consolation when he was sad; and at all times gave vent to
+his opinions without fear of being snubbed short by a flat
+contradiction.
+
+Now, the notary's bosom friend was a dealer in claret and cognac, who
+lived about a league from the city, and always passed his evenings at
+the _estaminet_.  He was a gross, corpulent fellow, raised from a
+full-blooded Gascon breed, and sired by a comic actor of some
+reputation in his way.  He was remarkable for nothing but his
+good-humor, his love of cards, and a strong propensity to test the
+quality of his own liquors by comparing them with those sold at other
+places.
+
+As evil communications corrupt good manners, the bad practices of the
+wine-dealer won insensibly upon the worthy notary; and before he was
+aware of it, he found himself weaned from domino and sugar-water, and
+addicted to piquet and spiced wine.  Indeed, it not infrequently
+happened that, after a long session at the _estaminet_, the two friends
+grew so urbane that they would waste a full half-hour at the door in
+friendly dispute which should conduct the other home.
+
+Though this course of life agreed well enough with the sluggish,
+phlegmatic temperament of the wine-dealer, it soon began to play the
+very deuce with the more sensitive organization of the notary, and
+finally put his nervous system completely out of tune.  He lost his
+appetite, became gaunt and haggard, and could get no sleep.  Legions of
+blue-devils haunted him by day, and by night strange faces peeped
+through his bed-curtains and the nightmare snorted in his ear.  The
+worse he grew the more he smoked and tippled; and the more he smoked
+and tippled, why, as a matter of course, the worse he grew.  His wife
+alternately stormed, remonstrated, entreated; but all in vain.  She
+made the house too hot for him--he retreated to the tavern; she broke
+his long-stemmed pipes upon the andirons--he substituted a
+short-stemmed one, which, for safe-keeping, he carried in his waistcoat
+pocket.
+
+Thus the unhappy notary ran gradually down at the heel.  What with his
+bad habits and his domestic grievances, he became completely hipped.
+He imagined that he was going to die, and suffered in quick succession
+all the diseases that ever beset mortal man.  Every shooting pain was
+an alarming symptom--every uneasy feeling after dinner a sure
+prognostic of some mortal disease.  In vain did his friends endeavor to
+reason, and then to laugh him out of his strange whims; for when did
+ever jest or reason cure a sick imagination?  His only answer was, "Do
+let me alone; I know better than you what ails me."
+
+Well, gentlemen, things were in this state when, one afternoon in
+December, as he sat moping in his office, wrapped in an overcoat, with
+a cap on his head and his feet thrust into a pair of furred slippers, a
+cabriolet stopped at the door, and a loud knocking without aroused him
+from his gloomy revery.  It was a message from his friend the
+wine-dealer, who had been suddenly attacked with a violent fever, and,
+growing worse and worse, bad now sent in the greatest haste for the
+notary to draw up his last will and testament.  The case was urgent,
+and admitted neither excuse nor delay; and the notary, tying a
+handkerchief round his face, and buttoning up to the chin, jumped into
+the cabriolet, and suffered himself, though not without some dismal
+presentiments and misgivings of heart, to be driven to the
+wine-dealer's house.
+
+When he arrived he found everything in the greatest confusion.  On
+entering the house he ran against the apothecary, who was coming down
+stairs, with a face as long as your arm; and a few steps farther he met
+the housekeeper--for the wine-dealer was an old bachelor--running up
+and down, and wringing her hands, for fear that the good man should die
+without making his will.  He soon reached the chamber of his sick
+friend, and found him tossing about in a paroxysm of fever, and calling
+aloud for a draught of cold water.  The notary shook his head; he
+thought this a fatal symptom; for ten years back the wine-dealer had
+been suffering under a species of hydrophobia, which seemed suddenly to
+have left him.
+
+When the sick man saw who stood by his bedside he stretched out his
+hand and exclaimed:
+
+"Ah! my dear friend! have you come at last?  You see it is all over
+with me.  You have arrived just in time to draw up that--that passport
+of mine.  Ah, _grand diable_! how hot it is here!  Water--water--water!
+Will nobody give me a drop of cold water?"
+
+As the case was an urgent one, the notary made no delay in getting his
+papers in readiness; and in a short time the last will and testament of
+the wine-dealer was drawn up in due form, the notary guiding the sick
+man's hand as he scrawled his signature at the bottom.
+
+As the evening wore away, the wine-dealer grew worse and worse, and at
+length became delirious, mingling in his incoherent ravings the phrases
+of the Credo and Paternoster with the shibboleth of the dram-shop and
+the card-table.
+
+"Take care! take care!  There, now--_Credo in_--Pop!  ting-a-ling-ling!
+give me some of that.  Cent-e-dize!  Why, you old publican, this wine
+is poisoned--I know your tricks!--_Sanctam ecclesiam Catholicam_--Well,
+well, we shall see.  Imbecile! to have a tierce-major and a seven of
+hearts, and discard the seven!  By St.  Anthony, capot!  You are
+lurched--ha! ha!  I told you so.  I knew very well--there--there--don't
+interrupt me--_Carnis resurrectionem et vitam eternam_!"
+
+With these words upon his lips the poor wine-dealer expired.  Meanwhile
+the notary sat cowering over the fire, aghast at the fearful scene that
+was passing before him, and now and then striving to keep up his
+courage by a glass of cognac.  Already his fears were on the alert, and
+the idea of contagion flitted to and fro through his mind.  In order to
+quiet these thoughts of evil import, he lighted his pipe, and began to
+prepare for returning home.  At that moment the apothecary turned round
+to him and said:
+
+"Dreadful sickly time, this! The disorder seems to be spreading."
+
+"What disorder?" exclaimed the notary, with a movement of surprise.
+
+"Two died yesterday, and three to-day," continued the apothecary,
+without answering the question.  "Very sickly time, sir--very."
+
+"But what disorder is it?  What disease has carried off my friend here
+so suddenly?"
+
+"What disease?  Why, scarlet fever, to be sure."
+
+"And is it contagious?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"Then I am a dead man!" exclaimed the notary, putting his pipe into his
+waistcoat-pocket, and beginning to walk up and down the room in
+despair.  "I am a dead man!  Now don't deceive me--don't, will you?
+What--what are the symptoms?"
+
+"A sharp burning pain in the right side," said the apothecary.
+
+"Oh, what a fool I was to come here!"
+
+In vain did the housekeeper and the apothecary strive to pacify him--he
+was not a man to be reasoned with; he answered that he knew his own
+constitution better than they did, and insisted upon going home without
+delay.  Unfortunately, the vehicle he came in had returned to the city,
+and the whole neighborhood was abed and asleep.  What was to be done?
+Nothing in the world but to take the apothecary's horse, which stood
+hitched at the door, patiently waiting his master's will.
+
+Well, gentlemen, as there was no remedy, our notary mounted this
+raw-boned steed, and set forth upon his homeward journey.  The night
+was cold and gusty, and the wind right in his teeth.  Overhead the
+leaden clouds were beating to and fro, and through them the newly-risen
+moon seemed to be tossing and drifting along like a cock-boat in the
+surf; now swallowed up in a huge billow of cloud, and now lifted upon
+its bosom and dashed with silvery spray.  The trees by the roadside
+groaned with a sound of evil omen, and before him lay three mortal
+miles, beset with a thousand imaginary perils.  Obedient to the whip
+and spur, the steed leaped forward by fits and starts, now dashing away
+in a tremendous gallop, and now relaxing into a long, hard trot; while
+the rider, filled with symptoms of disease and dire presentiments of
+death, urged him on, as if he were fleeing before the pestilence.
+
+In this way, by dint of whistling and shouting, and beating right and
+left, one mile of the fatal three was safely passed.  The apprehensions
+of the notary had so far subsided that he even suffered the poor horse
+to walk up hill; but these apprehensions were suddenly revived again
+with tenfold violence by a sharp pain in the right side, which seemed
+to pierce him like a needle.
+
+"It is upon me at last!" groaned the fear-stricken man.  "Heaven be
+merciful to me, the greatest of sinners!  And must I die in a ditch,
+after all?  He! get up! get up!"
+
+And away went horse and rider at full speed--hurry-scurry--up hill and
+down--panting and blowing like a whirlwind.  At every leap the pain in
+the rider's side seemed to increase.  At first it was a little point
+like the prick of a needle--then it spread to the size of a half-franc
+piece--then covered a place as large as the palm of your hand.  It
+gained upon him fast.  The poor man groaned aloud in agony; faster and
+faster sped the horse over the frozen ground--farther and farther
+spread the pain over his side.  To complete the dismal picture, the
+storm commenced--snow mingled with rain.  But snow and rain, and cold
+were naught to him; for, though his arms and legs were frozen to
+icicles, he felt it not; the fatal symptom was upon him; he was doomed
+to die--not of cold, but of scarlet fever!
+
+At length, he knew not how, more dead than alive, he reached the gate
+of the city.  A band of ill-bred dogs, that were serenading at a corner
+of the street, seeing the notary dash by, joined in the hue and cry,
+and ran barking and yelping at his heels.  It was now late at night,
+and only here and there a solitary lamp twinkled from an upper story.
+But on went the notary, down this street and up that, till at last he
+reached his own door.  There was a light in his wife's bedchamber.  The
+good woman came to the window, alarmed at such a knocking, and howling,
+and clattering at her door so late at night; and the notary was too
+deeply absorbed in his own sorrows to observe that the lamp cast the
+shadow of two heads on the window-curtain.
+
+"Let me in! let me in!  Quick! quick!" he exclaimed, almost breathless
+from terror and fatigue.
+
+"Who are you, that come to disturb a lone woman at this hour of the
+night?" cried a sharp voice from above.  "Begone about your business,
+and let quiet people sleep."
+
+"Oh, _diable, diable_!  Come down and let me in!  I am your husband.
+Don't you know my voice?  Quick, I beseech you; for I am dying here in
+the street!"
+
+After a few moments of delay and a few more words of parley, the door
+was opened, and the notary stalked into his domicile, pale and haggard
+in aspect, and as stiff and straight as a ghost.  Cased from head to
+heel in an armor of ice, as the glare of the lamp fell upon him he
+looked like a knight-errant mailed in steel.  But in one place his
+armor was broken.  On his right side was a circular spot as large as
+the crown of your hat, and about as black!
+
+"My dear wife!" he exclaimed, with more tenderness than he had
+exhibited for many years, "reach me a chair.  My hours are numbered.  I
+am a dead man!"
+
+Alarmed at these exclamations, his wife stripped off his overcoat.
+Something fell from beneath it, and was dashed to pieces on the hearth.
+It was the notary's pipe.  He placed his hand upon his side, and lo! it
+was bare to the skin.  Coat, waistcoat, and linen were burnt through
+and through, and there was a blister on his side as large over as your
+head!
+
+The mystery was soon explained, symptom and all.  The notary had put
+his pipe into his pocket without knocking out the ashes!  And so my
+story ends.
+
+
+"Is that all?" asked the radical, when the story-teller had finished.
+
+"That is all."
+
+"Well, what does your story prove?"
+
+"That is more than I can tell.  All I know is that the story is true."
+
+"And did he die?" said the nice little man in gosling-green.
+
+"Yes; he died afterward," replied the story-teller, rather annoyed at
+the question.
+
+"And what did he die of?" continued gosling-green, following him up.
+
+"What did he die of? why, he died--of a sudden!"
+
+
+
+
+THE WIDOW'S CRUISE
+
+By F. R. STOCKTON
+
+"From a Story-Teller's Pack."  Copyright 1897 by Charles Scribner's
+Sons.
+
+
+The widow Ducket lived in a small village about ten miles from the New
+Jersey seacoast.  In this village she was born, here she had married
+and buried her husband, and here she expected somebody to bury her; but
+she was in no hurry for this, for she had scarcely reached middle age.
+She was a tall woman with no apparent fat in her composition, and full
+of activity, both muscular and mental.
+
+She rose at six o'clock in the morning, cooked breakfast, set the
+table, washed the dishes when the meal was over, milked, churned,
+swept, washed, ironed, worked in her little garden, attended to the
+flowers in the front yard and in the afternoon knitted and quilted and
+sewed, and after tea she either went to see her neighbors or had them
+come to see her.  When it was really dark she lighted the lamp in her
+parlor and read for an hour, and if it happened to be one of Miss Mary
+Wilkins's books that she read she expressed doubts as to the realism of
+the characters therein described.
+
+These doubts she expressed to Dorcas Networthy, who was a small, plump
+woman, with a solemn face, who had lived with the widow for many years
+and who had become her devoted disciple.  Whatever the widow did, that
+also did Dorcas--not so well, for her heart told her she could never
+expect to do that, but with a yearning anxiety to do everything as well
+as she could.
+
+She rose at five minutes past six, and in a subsidiary way she helped
+to get the breakfast, to eat it, to wash up the dishes, to work in the
+garden, to quilt, to sew, to visit and receive, and no one could have
+tried harder than she did to keep awake when the widow read aloud in
+the evening.
+
+All these things happened every day in the summer-time, but in the
+winter the widow and Dorcas cleared the snow from their little front
+path instead of attending to the flowers, and in the evening they
+lighted a fire as well as a lamp in the parlor.
+
+Sometimes, however, something different happened, but this was not
+often, only a few times in the year.  One of the different things
+occurred when Mrs. Ducket and Dorcas were sitting on their little front
+porch one summer afternoon, one on the little bench on one side of the
+door, and the other on the little bench on the other side of the door,
+each waiting until she should hear the clock strike five, to prepare
+tea.  But it was not yet a quarter to five when a one-horse wagon
+containing four men came slowly down the street.  Dorcas first saw the
+wagon, and she instantly stopped knitting.
+
+"Mercy on me!" she exclaimed.  "Whoever those people are, they are
+strangers here, and they don't know where to stop, for they first go to
+one side of the street and then to the other."
+
+The widow looked around sharply.  "Humph!" said she.  "Those men are
+sailormen.  You might see that in a twinklin' of an eye.  Sailormen
+always drive that way, because that is the way they sail ships.  They
+first tack in one direction and then in another."
+
+"Mr. Ducket didn't like the sea?" remarked Dorcas, for about the three
+hundredth time.
+
+"No, he didn't," answered the widow, for about the two hundred and
+fiftieth time, for there had been occasions when she thought Dorcas put
+this question inopportunely.  "He hated it, and he was drowned in it
+through trustin' a sailorman, which I never did nor shall.  Do you
+really believe those men are comin' here?"
+
+"Upon my word I do!" said Dorcas, and her opinion was correct.
+
+The wagon drew up in front of Mrs. Ducket's little white house, and the
+two women sat rigidly, their hands in their laps, staring at the man
+who drove.
+
+This was an elderly personage with whitish hair, and under his chin a
+thin whitish beard, which waved in the gentle breeze and gave Dorcas
+the idea that his head was filled with hair which was leaking out from
+below.
+
+"Is this the Widow Ducket's?" inquired this elderly man, in a strong,
+penetrating voice.
+
+"That's my name," said the widow, and laying her knitting on the bench
+beside her, she went to the gate.  Dorcas also laid her knitting on the
+bench beside her and went to the gate.
+
+"I was told," said the elderly man, "at a house we touched at about a
+quarter of a mile back, that the Widow Ducket's was the only house in
+this village where there was any chance of me and my mates getting a
+meal.  We are four sailors, and we are making from the bay over to
+Cuppertown, and that's eight miles ahead yet, and we are all pretty
+sharp set for something to eat."
+
+"This is the place," said the widow, "and I do give meals if there is
+enough in the house and everything comes handy."
+
+"Does everything come handy to-day?" said he.
+
+"It does," said she, "and you can hitch your horse and come in; but I
+haven't got anything for him."
+
+"Oh, that's all right," said the man, "we brought along stores for him,
+so we'll just make fast and then come in."
+
+The two women hurried into the house in a state of bustling
+preparation, for the furnishing of this meal meant one dollar in cash.
+
+The four mariners, all elderly men, descended from the wagon, each one
+scrambling with alacrity over a different wheel.
+
+A box of broken ship-biscuit was brought out and put on the ground in
+front of the horse, who immediately set himself to eating with great
+satisfaction.
+
+Tea was a little late that day, because there were six persons to
+provide for instead of two, but it was a good meal, and after the four
+seamen had washed their hands and faces at the pump in the back yard
+and had wiped them on two towels furnished by Dorcas, they all came in
+and sat down.  Mrs. Ducket seated herself at the head of the table with
+the dignity proper to the mistress of the house, and Dorcas seated
+herself at the other end with the dignity proper to the disciple of the
+mistress.  No service was necessary, for everything that was to be
+eaten or drunk was on the table.
+
+When each of the elderly mariners had had as much bread and butter,
+quickly baked soda-biscuit, dried beef, cold ham, cold tongue, and
+preserved fruit of every variety known, as his storage capacity would
+permit, the mariner in command, Captain Bird, pushed back his chair,
+whereupon the other mariners pushed back their chairs.
+
+"Madam," said Captain Bird, "we have all made a good meal, which didn't
+need to be no better nor more of it, and we're satisfied; but that
+horse out there has not had time to rest himself enough to go the eight
+miles that lies ahead of us, so, if it's all the same to you and this
+good lady, we'd like to sit on that front porch awhile and smoke our
+pipes.  I was a-looking at that porch when I came in, and I bethought
+to myself what a rare good place it was to smoke a pipe in."
+
+"There's pipes been smoked there," said the widow, rising, "and it can
+be done again.  Inside the house I don't allow tobacco, but on the
+porch neither of us minds."
+
+So the four captains betook themselves to the porch, two of them
+seating themselves on the little bench on one side of the door, and two
+of them on the little bench on the other side of the door, and lighted
+their pipes.
+
+"Shall we clear off the table and wash up the dishes," said Dorcas, "or
+wait until they are gone?"
+
+"We will wait until they are gone," said the widow, "for now that they
+are here we might as well have a bit of a chat with them.  When a
+sailorman lights his pipe he is generally willin' to talk, but when he
+is eatin' you can't get a word out of him."
+
+Without thinking it necessary to ask permission, for the house belonged
+to her, the Widow Ducket brought a chair and put it in the hall close
+to the open front door, and Dorcas brought another chair and seated
+herself by the side of the widow.
+
+"Do all you sailormen belong down there at the bay?" asked Mrs. Ducket;
+thus the conversation began, and in a few minutes it had reached a
+point at which Captain Bird thought it proper to say that a great many
+strange things happen to seamen sailing on the sea which lands-people
+never dream of.
+
+"Such as anything in particular?" asked the widow, at which remark
+Dorcas clasped her hands in expectancy.
+
+At this question each of the mariners took his pipe from his mouth and
+gazed upon the floor in thought.
+
+"There's a good many strange things happened to me and my mates at sea.
+Would you and that other lady like to hear any of them?" asked Captain
+Bird.
+
+"We would like to hear them if they are true," said the widow.
+
+"There's nothing happened to me and my mates that isn't true," said
+Captain Bird, "and here is something that once happened to me: I was on
+a whaling v'yage when a big sperm-whale, just as mad as a fiery bull,
+came at us, head on, and struck the ship at the stern with such
+tremendous force that his head crashed right through her timbers and he
+went nearly half his length into her hull.  The hold was mostly filled
+with empty barrels, for we was just beginning our v'yage, and when he
+had made kindling-wood of these there was room enough for him.  We all
+expected that it wouldn't take five minutes for the vessel to fill and
+go to the bottom, and we made ready to take to the boats; but it turned
+out we didn't need to take to no boats, for as fast as the water rushed
+into the hold of the ship, that whale drank it and squirted it up
+through the two blow-holes in the top of his head, and as there was an
+open hatchway just over his head, the water all went into the sea
+again, and that whale kept working day and night pumping the water out
+until we beached the vessel on the island of Trinidad--the whale
+helping us wonderful on our way over by the powerful working of his
+tail, which, being outside in the water, acted like a propeller.  I
+don't believe anything stranger than that ever happened to a
+whaling-ship."
+
+"No," said the widow, "I don't believe anything ever did."
+
+Captain Bird now looked at Captain Sanderson, and the latter took his
+pipe out of his mouth and said that in all his sailing around the world
+he had never known anything queerer than what happened to a big
+steamship he chanced to be on, which ran into an island in a fog.
+Everybody on board thought the ship was wrecked, but it had twin
+screws, and was going at such a tremendous speed that it turned the
+island entirely upside down and sailed over it, and he had heard tell
+that even now people sailing over the spot could look down into the
+water and see the roots of the trees and the cellars of the houses.
+
+Captain Sanderson now put his pipe back into his mouth, and Captain
+Burress took out his pipe.
+
+"I was once in an obelisk-ship," said he, "that used to trade regular
+between Egypt and New York, carrying obelisks.  We had a big obelisk on
+board.  The way they ship obelisks is to make a hole in the stern of
+the ship, and run the obelisk in, p'inted end foremost; and this
+obelisk filled up nearly the whole of that ship from stern to bow.  We
+was about ten days out, and sailing afore a northeast gale with the
+engines at full speed, when suddenly we spied breakers ahead, and our
+captain saw we was about to run on a bank.  Now if we hadn't had an
+obelisk on board we might have sailed over that bank, but the captain
+knew that with an obelisk on board we drew too much water for this, and
+that we'd be wrecked in about fifty-five seconds if something wasn't
+done quick.  So he had to do something quick, and this is what he did:
+He ordered all steam on, and drove slam-bang on that bank.  Just as he
+expected, we stopped so suddint that that big obelisk bounced for'ard,
+its p'inted end foremost, and went clean through the bow and shot out
+into the sea.  The minute it did that the vessel was so lightened that
+it rose in the water and we then steamed over the bank.  There was one
+man knocked overboard by the shock when we struck, but as soon as we
+missed him we went back after him and we got him all right.  You see,
+when that obelisk went overboard, its butt-end, which was heaviest,
+went down first, and when it touched the bottom it just stood there,
+and as it was such a big obelisk there was about five and a half feet
+of it stuck out of the water.  The man who was knocked overboard he
+just swum for that obelisk and he climbed up the hiryglyphics.  It was
+a mighty fine obelisk, and the Egyptians had cut their hiryglyphics
+good and deep, so that the man could get hand and foot hold; and when
+we got to him and took him off, he was sitting high and dry on the
+p'inted end of that obelisk.  It was a great pity about the obelisk,
+for it was a good obelisk, but as I never heard the company tried to
+raise it, I expect it is standing there yet."
+
+Captain Burress now put his pipe back into his mouth and looked at
+Captain Jenkinson, who removed his pipe and said:
+
+"The queerest thing that ever happened to me was about a shark.  We was
+off the Banks, and the time of year was July, and the ice was coming
+down, and we got in among a lot of it.  Not far away, off our weather
+bow, there was a little iceberg which had such a queerness about it
+that the captain and three men went in a boat to look at it.  The ice
+was mighty clear ice, and you could see almost through it, and right
+inside of it, not more than three feet above the water-line, and about
+two feet, or maybe twenty inches, inside the ice, was a whopping big
+shark, about fourteen feet long,--a regular man-eater,--frozen in there
+hard and fast.  'Bless my soul,' said the captain, 'this is a wonderful
+curiosity, and I'm going to git him out.'  Just then one of the men
+said he saw that shark wink, but the captain wouldn't believe him, for
+he said that shark was frozen stiff and hard and couldn't wink.  You
+see, the captain had his own idees about things, and he knew that
+whales was warm-blooded and would freeze if they was shut up in ice,
+but he forgot that sharks was not whales and that they're cold-blooded
+just like toads.  And there is toads that has been shut up in rocks for
+thousands of years, and they stayed alive, no matter how cold the place
+was, because they was cold-blooded, and when the rocks was split, out
+hopped the frog.  But, as I said before, the captain forgot sharks was
+cold-blooded, and he determined to git that one out.
+
+"Now you both know, being housekeepers, that if you take a needle and
+drive it into a hunk of ice you can split it.  The captain had a
+sail-needle with him, and so he drove it into the iceberg right
+alongside of the shark and split it.  Now the minute he did it he knew
+that the man was right when he said he saw the shark wink, for it
+flopped out of that iceberg quicker nor a flash of lightning."
+
+"What a happy fish he must have been!" ejaculated Dorcas, forgetful of
+precedent, so great was her emotion.
+
+"Yes," said Captain Jenkinson, "it was a happy fish enough, but it
+wasn't a happy captain.  You see, that shark hadn't had anything to
+eat, perhaps for a thousand years, until the captain came along with
+his sail-needle."
+
+"Surely you sailormen do see strange things," now said the widow, "and
+the strangest thing about them is that they are true."
+
+"Yes, indeed," said Dorcas, "that is the most wonderful thing."
+
+"You wouldn't suppose," said the Widow Ducket, glancing from one bench
+of mariners to the other, "that I have a sea-story to tell, but I have,
+and if you like I will tell it to you."
+
+Captain Bird looked up a little surprised.
+
+"We would like to hear it--indeed, we would, madam," said he.
+
+"Ay, ay!" said Captain Burress, and the two other mariners nodded.
+
+"It was a good while ago," she said, "when I was living on the shore
+near the head of the bay, that my husband was away and I was left alone
+in the house.  One mornin' my sister-in-law, who lived on the other
+side of the bay, sent me word by a boy on a horse that she hadn't any
+oil in the house to fill the lamp that she always put in the window to
+light her husband home, who was a fisherman, and if I would send her
+some by the boy she would pay me back as soon as they bought oil.  The
+boy said he would stop on his way home and take the oil to her, but he
+never did stop, or perhaps he never went back, and about five o'clock I
+began to get dreadfully worried, for I knew if that lamp wasn't in my
+sister-in-law's window by dark she might be a widow before midnight.
+So I said to myself, 'I've got to get that oil to her, no matter what
+happens or how it's done.'  Of course I couldn't tell what might
+happen, but there was only one way it could be done, and that was for
+me to get into the boat that was tied to the post down by the water,
+and take it to her, for it was too far for me to walk around by the
+head of the bay.  Now, the trouble was, I didn't know no more about a
+boat and the managin' of it than any one of you sailormen knows about
+clear-starchin'.  But there wasn't no use of thinkin' what I knew and
+what I didn't know, for I had to take it to her, and there was no way
+of doin' it except in that boat.  So I filled a gallon can, for I
+thought I might as well take enough while I was about it, and I went
+down to the water and I unhitched that boat and I put the oil-can into
+her, and then I got in, and off I started, and when I was about a
+quarter of a mile from the shore--"
+
+"Madam," interrupted Captain Bird, "did you row or--or was there a sail
+to the boat?"
+
+The widow looked at the questioner for a moment.  "No," said she, "I
+didn't row.  I forgot to bring the oars from the house; but it didn't
+matter, for I didn't know how to use them, and if there had been a sail
+I couldn't have put it up, for I didn't know how to use it, either.  I
+used the rudder to make the boat go.  The rudder was the only thing I
+knew anything about.  I'd held a rudder when I was a little girl, and I
+knew how to work it.  So I just took hold of the handle of the rudder
+and turned it round and round, and that made the boat go ahead, you
+know, and--"
+
+"Madam!" exclaimed Captain Bird, and the other elderly mariners took
+their pipes from their mouths.
+
+"Yes, that is the way I did it," continued the widow, briskly.  "Big
+steamships are made to go by a propeller turning round and round at
+their back ends, and I made the rudder work in the same way, and I got
+along very well, too, until suddenly, when I was about a quarter of a
+mile from the shore, a most terrible and awful storm arose.  There must
+have been a typhoon or a cyclone out at sea, for the waves came up the
+bay bigger than houses, and when they got to the head of the bay they
+turned around and tried to get out to sea again.  So in this way they
+continually met, and made the most awful and roarin' pilin' up of waves
+that ever was known.
+
+"My little boat was pitched about as if it had been a feather in a
+breeze, and when the front part of it was cleavin' itself down into the
+water the hind part was stickin' up until the rudder whizzed around
+like a patent churn with no milk in it.  The thunder began to roar and
+the lightnin' flashed, and three sea-gulls, so nearly frightened to
+death that they began to turn up the whites of their eyes, flew down
+and sat on one of the seats of the boat, forgettin' in that awful
+moment that man was their nat'ral enemy.  I had a couple of biscuits in
+my pocket, because I had thought I might want a bite in crossing, and I
+crumpled up one of these and fed the poor creatures.  Then I began to
+wonder what I was goin' to do, for things were gettin' awfuller and
+awfuller every instant, and the little boat was a-heavin' and
+a-pitchin' and a-rollin' and h'istin' itself up, first on one end and
+then on the other, to such an extent that if I hadn't kept tight hold
+of the rudder-handle I'd slipped off the seat I was sittin' on.
+
+"All of a sudden I remembered that oil in the can; but just as I was
+puttin' my fingers on the cork my conscience smote me.  'Am I goin' to
+use this oil,' I said to myself, 'and let my sister-in-law's husband be
+wrecked for want of it?'  And then I thought that he wouldn't want it
+all that night, and perhaps they would buy oil the next day, and so I
+poured out about a tumblerful of it on the water, and I can just tell
+you sailormen that you never saw anything act as prompt as that did.
+In three seconds, or perhaps five, the water all around me, for the
+distance of a small front yard, was just as flat as a table and as
+smooth as glass, and so invitin' in appearance that the three gulls
+jumped out of the boat and began to swim about on it, primin' their
+feathers and lookin' at themselves in the transparent depths, though I
+must say that one of them made an awful face as he dipped his bill into
+the water and tasted kerosene.
+
+"Now I had time to sit quiet in the midst of the placid space I had
+made for myself, and rest from workin' of the rudder.  Truly it was a
+wonderful and marvelous thing to look at.  The waves was roarin' and
+leapin' up all around me higher than the roof of this house, and
+sometimes their tops would reach over so that they nearly met and shut
+out all view of the stormy sky, which seemed as if it was bein' torn to
+pieces by blazin' lightnin', while the thunder pealed so tremendous
+that it almost drowned the roar of the waves.  Not only above and all
+around me was everything terrific and fearful, but even under me it was
+the same, for there was a big crack in the bottom of the boat as wide
+as my hand, and through this I could see down into the water beneath,
+and there was--"
+
+"Madam!" ejaculated Captain Bird, the hand which, had been holding his
+pipe a few inches from his mouth now dropping to his knee; and at this
+motion the hands which held the pipes of the three other mariners
+dropped to their knees.
+
+"Of course it sounds strange," continued the widow, "but I know that
+people can see down into clear water, and the water under me was clear,
+and the crack was wide enough for me to see through, and down under me
+was sharks and swordfishes and other horrible water creatures, which I
+had never seen before, all driven into the bay, I haven't a doubt, by
+the violence of the storm out at sea.  The thought of my bein' upset
+and fallin' in among those monsters made my very blood run cold, and
+involuntary-like I began to turn the handle of the rudder, and in a
+moment I shot into a wall of ragin' sea-water that was towerin' around
+me.  For a second I was fairly blinded and stunned, but I had the cork
+out of that oil-can in no time, and very soon--you'd scarcely believe
+it if I told you how soon--I had another placid mill-pond surroundin'
+of me.  I sat there a-pantin' and fannin' with my straw hat, for you'd
+better believe I was flustered, and then I began to think how long it
+would take me to make a line of mill-ponds clean across the head of the
+bay, and how much oil it would need, and whether I had enough.  So I
+sat and calculated that if a tumblerful of oil would make a smooth
+place about seven yards across, which I should say was the width of the
+one I was in,--which I calculated by a measure of my eye as to how many
+breadths of carpet it would take to cover it,--and if the bay was two
+miles across betwixt our house and my sister-in-law's, and, although I
+couldn't get the thing down to exact figures, I saw pretty soon that I
+wouldn't have oil enough to make a level cuttin' through all those
+mountainous billows, and besides, even if I had enough to take me
+across, what would be the good of goin' if there wasn't any oil left to
+fill my sister-in-law's lamp?
+
+"While I was thinkin' and calculatin' a perfectly dreadful thing
+happened, which made me think if I didn't get out of this pretty soon
+I'd find myself in a mighty risky predicament.  The oil-can, which I
+had forgotten to put the cork in, toppled over, and before I could grab
+it every drop of the oil ran into the hind part of the boat, where it
+was soaked up by a lot of dry dust that was there.  No wonder my heart
+sank when I saw this.  Glancin' wildly around me, as people will do
+when they are scared, I saw the smooth place I was in gettin' smaller
+and smaller, for the kerosene was evaporating as it will do even off
+woolen clothes if you give it time enough.  The first pond I had come
+out of seemed to be covered up, and the great, towerin', throbbin'
+precipice of sea-water was a-closin' around me.
+
+"Castin' down my eyes in despair, I happened to look through the crack
+in the bottom of the boat, and oh, what a blessed relief it was! for
+down there everything was smooth and still, and I could see the sand on
+the bottom, as level and hard, no doubt, as it was on the beach.
+Suddenly the thought struck me that that bottom would give me the only
+chance I had of gettin' out of the frightful fix I was in.  If I could
+fill that oil-can with air, and then puttin' it under my arm and takin'
+a long breath if I could drop down on that smooth bottom, I might run
+along toward shore, as far as I could, and then, when I felt my breath
+was givin' out, I could take a pull at the oil-can and take another
+run, and then take another pull and another run, and perhaps the can
+would hold air enough for me until I got near enough to shore to wade
+to dry land.  To be sure, the sharks and other monsters were down
+there, but then they must have been awfully frightened, and perhaps
+they might not remember that man was their nat'ral enemy.  Anyway, I
+thought it would be better to try the smooth water passage down there
+than stay and be swallowed up by the ragin' waves on top.
+
+"So I blew the can full of air and corked it, and then I tore up some
+of the boards from the bottom of the boat so as to make a hole big
+enough for me to get through,--and you sailormen needn't wriggle so
+when I say that, for you all know a divin'-bell hasn't any bottom at
+all and the water never comes in,--and so when I got the hole big
+enough I took the oil-can under my arm, and was just about to slip down
+through it when I saw an awful turtle a-walkin' through the sand at the
+bottom.  Now, I might trust sharks and swordfishes and sea-serpents to
+be frightened and forget about their nat'ral enemies, but I never could
+trust a gray turtle as big as a cart, with a black neck a yard long,
+with yellow bags to its jaws, to forget anything or to remember
+anything.  I'd as lieve get into a bathtub with a live crab as to go
+down there.  It wasn't of no use even so much as thinkin' of it, so I
+gave up that plan and didn't once look through that hole again."
+
+"And what did you do, madam?" asked Captain Bird, who was regarding her
+with a face of stone.
+
+"I used electricity," she said "Now don't start as if you had a shock
+of it.  That's what I used.  When I was younger than I was then, and
+sometimes visited friends in the city, we often amused ourselves by
+rubbing our feet on the carpet until we got ourselves so full of
+electricity that we could put up our fingers and light the gas.  So I
+said to myself that if I could get full of electricity for the purpose
+of lightin' the gas I could get full of it for other purposes, and so,
+without losin' a moment, I set to work.  I stood up on one of the
+seats, which was dry, and rubbed the bottoms of my shoes backward and
+forward on it with such violence and swiftness that they pretty soon
+got warm and I began fillin' with electricity, and when I was fully
+charged with it from my toes to the top of my head, I just sprang into
+the water and swam ashore.  Of course I couldn't sink, bein' full of
+electricity."
+
+Captain Bird heaved a long sigh and rose to his feet, whereupon the
+other mariners rose to their feet.  "Madam," said Captain Bird, "what's
+to pay for the supper and--the rest of the entertainment?"
+
+"The supper is twenty-five cents apiece," said the Widow Ducket, "and
+everything else is free, gratis."
+
+Whereupon each mariner put his hand into his trousers pocket, pulled
+out a silver quarter, and handed it to the widow.  Then, with four
+solemn "Good evenin's," they went out to the front gate.
+
+"Cast off, Captain Jenkinson," said Captain Bird, "and you, Captain
+Burress, clew him up for'ard.  You can stay in the bow, Captain
+Sanderson, and take the sheet-lines.  I'll go aft."
+
+All being ready, each of the elderly mariners clambered over a wheel,
+and having seated themselves, they prepared to lay their course for
+Cuppertown.
+
+But just as they were about to start, Captain Jenkinson asked that they
+lay to a bit, and clambering down over his wheel, he reentered the
+front gate and went up to the door of the house, where the widow and
+Dorcas were still standing.
+
+"Madam," said he, "I just came back to ask what became of your
+brother-in-law through his wife's not bein' able to put no light in the
+window?"
+
+"The storm drove him ashore on our side of the bay," said she, "and the
+next mornin' he came up to our house, and I told him all that had
+happened to me.  And when he took our boat and went home and told that
+story to his wife, she just packed up and went out West, and got
+divorced from him.  And it served him right, too."
+
+"Thank you, ma'am," said Captain Jenkinson, and going out of the gate,
+he clambered up over the wheel, and the wagon cleared for Cuppertown.
+
+When the elderly mariners were gone, the Widow Ducket, still standing
+in the door, turned to Dorcas.
+
+"Think of it!" she said.  "To tell all that to me, in my own house!
+And after I had opened my one jar of brandied peaches, that I'd been
+keepin' for special company!"
+
+"In your own house!" ejaculated Dorcas.  "And not one of them brandied
+peaches left!"
+
+The widow jingled the four quarters in her hand before she slipped them
+into her pocket.
+
+"Anyway, Dorcas," she remarked, "I think we can now say we are square
+with all the world, and so let's go in and wash the dishes."
+
+"Yes," said Dorcas, "we're square."
+
+
+
+
+THE COUNT AND THE WEDDING GUEST
+
+By O. HENRY
+
+Copyright 1907 by McClure, Phillips & Co.
+
+
+One evening when Andy Donovan went to dinner at his Second Avenue
+boarding-house, Mrs. Scott introduced him to a new boarder, a young
+lady, Miss Conway.  Miss Conway was small and unobtrusive.  She wore a
+plain, snuffy-brown dress, and bestowed her interest, which seemed
+languid, upon her plate.  She lifted her diffident eyelids and shot one
+perspicuous, judicial glance at Mr. Donovan, politely murmured his
+name, and returned to her mutton.  Mr. Donovan bowed with the grace and
+beaming smile that were rapidly winning for him social, business and
+political advancement, and erased the snuffy-brown one from the tablets
+of his consideration.
+
+Two weeks later Andy was sitting on the front steps enjoying his cigar.
+There was a soft rustle behind and above him, and Andy turned his
+head--and had his head turned.
+
+Just coming out the door was Miss Conway.  She wore a night-black dress
+of _crepe de--crepe de_--oh, this thin black goods.  Her hat was black,
+and from it drooped and fluttered an ebon veil, filmy as a spider's
+web.  She stood on the top step and drew on black silk gloves.  Not a
+speck of white or a spot of color about her dress anywhere.  Her rich
+golden hair was drawn, with scarcely a ripple, into a shining, smooth
+knot low on her neck.  Her face was plain rather than pretty, but it
+was now illuminated and made almost beautiful by her large gray eyes
+that gazed above the houses across the street into the sky with an
+expression of the most appealing sadness and melancholy.
+
+Gather the idea, girls--all black, you know, with the preference for
+_crepe de_--oh, _crepe de Chine_--that's it.  All black, and that sad,
+faraway look, and the hair shining under the black veil (you have to be
+a blonde, of course), and try to look as if, although your young life
+had been blighted just as it was about to give a hop-skip-and-a-jump
+over the threshold of life, a walk in the park might do you good, and
+be sure to happen out the door at the right moment, and--oh, it'll
+fetch 'em every time.  But it's fierce, now, how cynical I am, ain't
+it?--to talk about mourning costumes this way.
+
+Mr. Donovan suddenly reinscribed Miss Conway upon the tablets of his
+consideration.  He threw away the remaining inch-and-a-quarter of his
+cigar, that would have been good for eight minutes yet, and quickly
+shifted his center of gravity to his low-cut patent leathers.
+
+"It's a fine, clear evening, Miss Conway," he said; and if the Weather
+Bureau could have heard the confident emphasis of his tones it would
+have hoisted the square white signal and nailed it to the mast.
+
+"To them that has the heart to enjoy it, it is, Mr. Donovan," said Miss
+Conway, with a sigh.
+
+Mr. Donovan in his heart cursed fair weather.  Heartless weather!  It
+should hail and blow and snow to be consonant with the mood of Miss
+Conway.
+
+"I hope none of your relatives--I hope you haven't sustained a loss?"
+ventured Mr. Donovan.
+
+"Death has claimed," said Miss Conway, hesitating--"not a relative, but
+one who--but I will not intrude my grief upon you, Mr. Donovan."
+
+"Intrude?" protested Mr. Donovan.  "Why, say, Miss Conway, I'd be
+delighted, that is, I'd be sorry--I mean I'm sure nobody could
+sympathize with you truer than I would."
+
+Miss Conway smiled a little smile.  And oh, it was sadder than her
+expression in repose.
+
+"'Laugh, and the world laughs with you; weep, and they give you the
+laugh,'" she quoted.
+
+"I have learned that, Mr. Donovan.  I have no friends or acquaintances
+in this city.  But you have been kind to me.  I appreciate it highly."
+
+He had passed her the pepper twice at the table.
+
+"It's tough to be alone in New York--that's a cinch," said Mr. Donovan.
+"But, say--whenever this little old town does loosen up and get
+friendly it goes the limit.  Say you took a little stroll in the park,
+Miss Conway--don't you think it might chase away some of your
+mullygrubs?  And if you'd allow me--"
+
+"Thanks, Mr. Donovan.  I'd be pleased to accept of your escort if you
+think the company of one whose heart is filled with gloom could be
+anyways agreeable to you."
+
+Through the open gates of the iron-railed, old, downtown park, where
+the elect once took the air, they strolled and found a quiet bench.
+
+There is this difference between the grief of youth and that of old
+age: youth's burden is lightened by as much of it as another shares;
+old age may give and give, but the sorrow remains the same.
+
+"He was my fiance," confided Miss Conway, at the end of an hour.  "We
+were going to be married next spring.  I don't want you to think that I
+am stringing you, Mr. Donovan, but he was a real Count.  He had an
+estate and a castle in Italy.  Count Fernando Mazzini was his name.  I
+never saw the beat of him for elegance.  Papa objected, of course, and
+once we eloped, but papa overtook us, and took us back.  I thought sure
+papa and Fernando would fight a duel.  Papa has a livery business--in
+P'kipsee, you know.
+
+"Finally, papa came around all right, and said we might be married next
+spring.  Fernando showed him proofs of his title and wealth, and then
+went over to Italy to get the castle fixed up for us.  Papa's very
+proud, and when Fernando wanted to give me several thousand dollars for
+my trousseau he called him down something awful.  He wouldn't even let
+me take a ring or any presents from him.  And when Fernando sailed I
+came to the city and got a position as cashier in a candy store.
+
+"Three days ago I got a letter from Italy, forwarded from P'kipsee,
+saying that Fernando had been killed in a gondola accident.
+
+"That is why I am in mourning.  My heart, Mr. Donovan, will remain
+forever in his grave.  I guess I am poor company, Mr. Donovan, but I
+can not take any interest in no one.  I should not care to keep you
+from gaiety and your friends who can smile and entertain you.  Perhaps
+you would prefer to walk back to the house?"
+
+Now, girls, if you want to observe a young man hustle out after a pick
+and shovel, just tell him that your heart is in some other fellow's
+grave.  Young men are grave-robbers by nature.  Ask any widow.
+Something must be done to restore that missing organ to weeping girls
+in _crepe de Chine_.  Dead men certainly got the worse of it from all
+sides.
+
+"I'm awful sorry," said Mr. Donovan gently.  "No, we won't walk back to
+the house just yet.  And don't say you haven't no friends in this city,
+Miss Conway.  I'm awful sorry, and I want you to believe I'm your
+friend, and that I'm awful sorry."
+
+"I've got his picture here in my locket," said Miss Conway, after
+wiping her eyes with her handkerchief.  "I never showed it to anybody,
+but I will to you, Mr. Donovan, because I believe you to be a true
+friend."
+
+Mr. Donovan gazed long and with much interest at the photograph in the
+locket that Miss Conway opened for him.  The face of Count Mazzini was
+one to command interest.  It was a smooth, intelligent, bright, almost
+a handsome face--the face of a strong, cheerful man who might well be a
+leader among his fellows.
+
+"I have a larger one, framed, in my room," said Miss Conway.  "When we
+return I will show you that.  They are all I have to remind me of
+Fernando.  But he ever will be present in my heart, that's a sure
+thing."
+
+A subtle task confronted Mr. Donovan--that of supplanting the
+unfortunate Count in the heart of Miss Conway.  This his admiration for
+her determined him to do.  But the magnitude of the undertaking did not
+seem to weigh upon his spirits.  The sympathetic but cheerful friend
+was the role he essayed, and he played it so successfully that the next
+half-hour found them conversing pensively across two plates of
+ice-cream, though yet there was no diminution of the sadness in Miss
+Conway's large gray eyes.
+
+Before they parted in the hall that evening she ran upstairs and
+brought down the framed photograph wrapped lovingly in a white silk
+scarf.  Mr. Donovan surveyed it with inscrutable eyes.
+
+"He gave me this the night he left for Italy," said Miss Conway.  "I
+had one for the locket made from this."
+
+"A fine-looking man," said Mr. Donovan heartily.  "How would it suit
+you, Miss Conway, to give me the pleasure of your company to Coney next
+Sunday afternoon?"
+
+A month later they announced their engagement to Mrs. Scott and the
+other boarders.  Miss Conway continued to wear black.
+
+A week after the announcement the two sat on the same bench in the
+downtown park, while the fluttering leaves of the trees made a dim
+kinetoscopic picture of them in the moonlight.  But Donovan had worn a
+look of abstracted gloom all day.  He was so silent to-night that
+love's lips could not keep back any longer the questions that love's
+heart propounded.
+
+"What's the matter, Andy, you are so solemn and grouchy to-night?"
+
+"Nothing, Maggie."
+
+"I know better.  Can't I tell?  You never acted this way before.  What
+is it?"
+
+"It's nothing much, Maggie."
+
+"Yes it is, and I want to know.  I'll bet it's some other girl you are
+thinking about.  All right.  Why don't you go and get her if you want
+her?  Take your arm away, if you please."
+
+"I'll tell you then," said Andy wisely; "but I guess you won't
+understand it exactly.  You've heard of Mike Sullivan, haven't you?
+'Big Mike' Sullivan, everybody calls him."
+
+"No, I haven't," said Maggie.  "And I don't want to, if he makes you
+act like this.  Who is he?"
+
+"He's the biggest man in New York," said Andy, almost reverently.  "He
+can do about anything he wants to with Tammany or any other old thing
+in the political line.  He's a mile high and as broad as East River.
+You say anything against Big Mike and you'll have a million men on your
+collarbone in about two seconds.  Why, he made a visit over to the old
+country awhile back, and the kings took to their holes like rabbits.
+
+"Well, Big Mike's a friend of mine.  I ain't more than deuce-high in
+the district as far as influence goes, but Mike's as good a friend to a
+little man, or a poor man, as he is to a big one.  I met him to-day on
+the Bowery, and what do you think he does?  Comes up and shakes hands.
+'Andy,' says he, 'I've been keeping cases on you.  You've been putting
+in some good licks over on your side of the street, and I'm proud of
+you.  What'll you take to drink?'  He takes a cigar, and I take a
+highball.  I told him I was going to get married in two weeks.  'Andy,'
+says he, 'send me an invitation, so I'll keep in mind of it, and I'll
+come to the wedding.'  That's what Big Mike says to me; and he always
+does what he says.
+
+"You don't understand it, Maggie, but I'd have one of my hands cut off
+to have Big Mike Sullivan at our wedding.  It would be the proudest day
+of my life.  When he goes to a man's wedding there's a guy being
+married that's made for life.  Now, that's why I've maybe been looking
+sore to-night."
+
+"Why don't you invite him, then, if he's so much to the mustard?" said
+Maggie lightly.
+
+"There's a reason why I can't," said Andy sadly.  "There's a reason why
+he mustn't be there.  Don't ask me what it is, for I can't tell you."
+
+"Oh, I don't care," said Maggie.  "It's something about politics, of
+course.  But it's no reason why you can't smile at me."
+
+"Maggie," said Andy presently, "do you think as much of me as you did
+of your--as you did of the Count Mazzini?"
+
+He waited a long time, but Maggie did not reply.  And then, suddenly
+she leaned against his shoulder and began to cry--to cry and shake with
+sobs, holding his arm tightly and wetting the _crepe de Chine_ with
+tears.
+
+"There, there, there!" soothed Andy, putting aside his own trouble.
+"And what is it now?"
+
+"Andy," sobbed Maggie, "I've lied to you and you'll never marry me, or
+love me any more.  But I feel that I've got to tell.  Andy, there never
+was so much as the little finger of a count.  I never had a beau in my
+life.  But all the other girls had, and they talked about 'em, and that
+seemed to make the fellows like 'em more.  And, Andy, I look swell in
+black--you know I do.  So I went out to a photograph store and bought
+that picture, and had a little one made for my locket, and made up all
+that story about the Count and about his being killed, so I could wear
+black.  And nobody can love a liar and you'll shake me, Andy, and I'll
+die for shame.  Oh, there never was anybody I liked but you--and that's
+all."
+
+But instead of being pushed away she found Andy's arm folding her
+closely.  She looked up and saw his face cleared and smiling.
+
+"Could you--could you forgive me, Andy?"
+
+"Sure," said Andy.  "It's all right about that.  Back to the cemetery
+for the Count.  You've straightened everything out, Maggie.  I was in
+hopes you would before the wedding-day.  Bully girl!"
+
+"Andy," said Maggie with a somewhat shy smile, after she had been
+thoroughly assured of forgiveness, "did you believe all that story
+about the Count?"
+
+"Well, not to any large extent," said Andy, reaching for his
+cigar-case; "because it's Big Mike Sullivan's picture you've got in
+that locket of yours."
+
+
+
+
+MISS TOOKER'S WEDDING GIFT
+
+By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS
+
+Copyright 1909 by J. B. Lippincott Company.
+
+
+I
+
+Van Buren tossed his gloves impatiently on the table, removed his
+overcoat, and sat down before the fire.  He was apparently deeply
+concerned about something, for when Niki, his Japanese valet, entered
+the room and placed the whisky and soda on the little table at his
+side, Van Buren paid no more attention to him than he would to a
+vagrant sunmote that crossed his path.  Long and steadily he gazed into
+the broad fireplace, watching the dancing flames at play, pausing only
+to light his pipe, upon which he pulled fiercely.  Finally he spoke,
+leaning forward and to all intents and purposes addressing the andirons.
+
+"Confound the money!" he said impatiently.  "I wish to thunder the
+Governor had left it to some orphan asylum or to found a Chair in
+Choctaw at some New England university, instead of to me--then I might
+have made something of myself.  Here am I twenty-seven years old and
+all the fame I ever got came from leading cotillions at Newport, and my
+sole contribution to the common weal has consisted of the fines I've
+paid into the public treasury for exceeding the speed limit.  Life!
+I've seen a lot of it--haven't I, in this empty social shell I've been
+born into!"
+
+He paused for a moment and poured a stiff four fingers of whisky into a
+glass at his side.
+
+"Bah!" he shuddered as the odor of it greeted his nostrils.  "You're a
+poor kind of fuel for such an engine as I might have been if I'd been
+started on the right track.  By Jove!  Ethel is right.  What good am I?
+What have I ever done to make myself worth while or to show that I have
+any character in me that is a jot better than that of any of the rest
+of our poor stenciled, gold-plated society."
+
+He looked at the glass and made a wry face.
+
+"I'll cut _you_ out anyhow," he said, pushing the liquor away from him.
+"That's something.  Niki!" he called.
+
+The inscrutable Niki obeyed the summons on the word.
+
+"Take that stuff away and hereafter don't bring it unless I call for
+it," said Van Buren.  "Any letters?"
+
+"One," said Niki.  "A messenger brought him at eight o'clock.  I get
+it."
+
+Niki went to the escritoire and picked up the little square of blue
+envelope lying thereon and handed it to Van Buren.
+
+"Thank you, Niki.  You may go now--I can get along without you
+until--well, say noon to-morrow.  Good night."
+
+"Good night," said Niki, and withdrew noiselessly.
+
+"Humph!" ejaculated Van Buren.  "Even he is worth more to the world
+than I am.  He does something, even if it is only for me, which is more
+than I can do.  I don't seem to be able to do anything even for myself."
+
+With a sigh of discontent, Van Buren poked the fire for moment and then
+settled himself in the armchair, holding the letter before his eyes as
+he did so.
+
+"From Ethel," he said.  "Probably my death-warrant.  Oh, well--why not?
+If she won't have me, she won't, that's all.  Only one more drop of
+bitters in my cocktail.  I may as well read it anyhow.  It's like a
+cold plunge, and I hate to take it, but--here goes."
+
+He tore open the envelope and, extracting the note, read it:
+
+
+Dear Harry--I have been thinking things over since you left me this
+afternoon and I have changed my mind.  [Van Buren's eyes lighted with
+hope.]  I _do_ care for you, but I can not see much happiness ahead for
+either of us unless one or the other of us changes radically.  It may
+be my fault, but I can not forget that if I married a man I should want
+always to be proud of him, and ambitious for his success in the world.
+If I were not ambitious, I could be proud of you just as you are, for I
+know you for the fine fellow that you are.  While you do none of the
+things that I should love to have my future husband do, you at least do
+none of those other things that men make a practise of, and that mean
+so much misery for their womenkind, whether they show it or not.  But,
+dear Harry, why can you not make yourself more of a man than you are?
+Why be content with just the splendid foundation, and let it lie,
+gradually disintegrating because you have failed to rear upon it some
+kind of a superstructure that would be in keeping with what rests
+beneath?  You can--I know you can--and that is why I have decided to
+withdraw what appeared to be my final answer of this afternoon, and, if
+you want it, to give you another chance.
+
+
+"_If_ I want it!" ejaculated Van Buren.  "Lord knows how I want it!"
+
+
+Come to me at the end of a year and show me the record of something
+accomplished, that lifts you out this awful social rut we have all
+managed to get into, and my "no" of this afternoon may be turned into a
+"yes," and the misery of my heart be turned to joy.  Of course you will
+say that it is all very easy for me to write this, and to tell you to
+go out and do something, but that the hard thing would be to tell you
+what to go out and do--and you will be perfectly right.  General advice
+is the easiest thing in the world, but the specific, constructive
+suggestion is very different.  So I will give you the specific
+suggestion, and it is this: Why do you not write a novel?  You used in
+your days at Harvard to write clever skits for the "Lampoon," and one
+or two of your little stories in the "Advocate" showed that you at
+least know how to put words and sentences together in a pleasing way,
+even if the themes of your stories were slight and the plots not very
+intricate.  Do this, Harry.  Surely with your experience in life you
+can think of something to write about.  Apply yourself to this work
+during the coming year, and when your book is published and has proven
+a success, come to me again, and maybe I shall have some good news to
+tell you.
+
+It may be, dear Harry, that you will not think it worth while.  For
+myself, I hardly think the prize is worth the winning, but you seem to
+feel differently about that, if I may judge from what you said this
+afternoon, and you did seem to mean it all, every word of it, you poor
+boy.
+
+We shall meet, of course, as frequently as ever, but until the year is
+up, and that a year of achievement, you must not speak of the matter
+again, and must regard me as I shall hope in any event always to remain,
+
+Your devoted friend,
+  ETHEL TOOKER.
+
+
+Van Buren laughed nervously, as he finished the letter, and again lit
+his pipe, which had gone out while he read.
+
+"Write a novel, eh?" he muttered with a grin.  "A nice, easy task that.
+A hundred and fifty thousand words, all meaning something.  Ah me!  Why
+the dickens wasn't I born in an age when knighthood was in flower and
+my Lady Fayre set Sir Hubert some easy task like putting on a tin suit
+and going out on the highway and swatting another potted Sir Bedivere
+on the head with an antique ax?  The Quest of the Golden Fleece was an
+easy stunt alongside of writing a novel these times, and I fear I'm
+more of a Jason than a Henry James!"
+
+He turned to his desk, and the next five minutes were devoted to the
+writing of an acknowledgment of Miss Tooker's letter.
+
+
+I thank you for your suggestion [he wrote], and I truly think it will
+bear thinking over.  Any suggestion that makes for the realization of
+my fondest hopes will bear thinking over, and I am going to do what I
+can.  I wish you had set me an easier task, however, like getting
+myself appointed Ambassador to England, or Excise Commissioner, for
+honestly I do not feel the call of the pen.  Nevertheless, my dearest
+Ethel, just to prove to you how honestly devoted to you I am, I shall
+to-morrow lay in a stock of pads, a brand new pen, and a new Roosevelt
+Dictionary to guide me into the short cut to success via the Reformed
+Spelling Route.  I have already got my leading characters--my heroine
+and my hero.  She is the sweetest, fairest, dearest girl in the world,
+and is to be named Ethel.  The hero is to be a miserable, down-and-out
+young cub of a millionaire who, having been brought up in a hot-house
+atmosphere, never had a chance when exposed to the chilling blasts of
+the world.  She, of course, will redeem poor Harry--that is to be my
+hero's name--from the pitfalls of bridge, Newport, and the demon Rum.
+And, of course, she will marry him in the end.
+
+Ever your devoted
+  HARRY.
+
+P. S.  As expressive of my real feelings, my story will be written in
+blue ink.
+
+
+II
+
+Late one evening, six months later, Van Buren rose wearily from his
+desk, but with a light of triumph in his eye.
+
+"There!" he said.  "That is done.  'The City of Credit' is at last _un
+fait accompli_.  One hundred and thirty-seven thousand five hundred and
+sixty-seven words, and all about Newport, with a bit of the life of its
+thriving suburbs, New York and Boston, thrown in to relieve the
+sordidness of it all."
+
+He gazed affectionately at the pile of manuscript before him.
+
+"It hasn't been half bad, after all," he said.  "The first ten thousand
+words came like water from a fire hose, the second ten thousand were
+pure dentistry, tooth-pulling extraordinary, and the rest of it--well,
+it is queer how when you get interested in shoveling coal how easy it
+all seems.  And now for the hardest end of the job.  To find a
+publisher who is weak-minded enough to print it."
+
+This indeed proved much the hardest part of Van Buren's work, for the
+reluctance of the large publishing houses of New York and Boston to
+place their imprint upon the title-page of "The City of Credit" became
+painfully evident to the youthful author.  The manuscript came back to
+Van Buren with a frequency that was more than ominous.
+
+"I think," he remarked ruefully to himself upon the occasion of its
+sixth rejection, "that I have discovered the principle of perpetual
+motion.  If there were only enough publishers in the world to last
+through all eternity, I could keep this manuscript going forever."
+
+Days passed and with no glimmer of hope, until one morning at a time
+when "The City of Credit" was about due for its thirteenth reappearance
+on his desk Van Buren found in its stead a letter from Hutchins &
+Waterbury, of Boston, apprising him of the fact that his novel had been
+read and was so well liked that "our Mr. Waterbury will be pleased to
+have Mr. Van Buren call to discuss a possible arrangement under which
+the firm would be willing to undertake its publication."
+
+"Good Lord!" cried Van Buren as he read the letter over for the third
+time, even then barely crediting the possibilities of success that now
+loomed before him.  "And Boston people, too!  Will I call!  Niki, pack
+my suit-case at once, and engage a seat for me on the Knickerbocker
+Limited."
+
+The following morning an interview between "our Mr. Waterbury" and Van
+Buren took place in the firm's private office on Tremont Street,
+Boston.  It appeared that while the readers of the firm of Hutchins &
+Waterbury had unanimously condemned the book, Mr. Waterbury, himself,
+having read it, rather thought it might have a living chance.
+
+"Some portions of your narrative are brilliant, and some of them are
+otherwise, Mr. Van Buren," said Mr. Waterbury frankly.  "But
+considering the authorship of the book and that it is a description of
+Newport life by one who is a part of its innermost circle, I am
+inclined to think it will prove interesting to the public.  Your
+picture of the social wheels within wheels is so intimate, and I judge
+so accurate, that it would attract attention."
+
+"I am glad you think so," said Van Buren, with a dry throat--the idea
+that his book might be published after all was really overpowering.
+
+"On the other hand, the judgment of our readers is so unanimously
+adverse that Mr. Hutchins and I feel the need of proceeding cautiously.
+Now, what would you say to our publishing the book on--ah--on your
+account, as it were?"
+
+"You want me to--" began Van Buren.
+
+"To pay for the plates and advertising," said Mr. Waterbury.  "We will
+stand for the paper and the binding, and will act as your agents in the
+distribution of the book, accounting to you for every copy printed and
+sold."
+
+"Is--is that quite _en regle_?" asked Van Buren dubiously.
+
+"It is quite customary," replied Mr. Waterbury.  "In fact, ninety per
+cent of our business is conducted upon that basis."
+
+"I see," said Van Buren.
+
+"You hand us your check for twenty-five hundred dollars to cover the
+expenses I have specified," continued the astute publisher, "and we
+will publish your book, allowing you a royalty of fifty per cent on
+every copy sold."
+
+"I suppose the first edition would be--" said Van Buren hesitatingly.
+
+"Five hundred copies," said Waterbury.  "The smaller your first
+edition, the sooner you are likely to go into a second, and, as you
+know, it is a great advantage for a book to go into a second edition
+quickly, if only for advertising purposes.  Think it over, and let me
+know this afternoon if you can.  I have to leave for Chicago to-night,
+and if we are to have 'The City of Credit' ready for the autumn trade,
+we should begin work on it right away."
+
+"I understand," said Van Buren.  "Well--I--I guess it's all right.
+It's only the principle of the thing--but if, as you say, it is quite
+customary--why, yes.  I'll give you my check now.  Do you want it
+certified?"
+
+"That will not be at all necessary, Mr. Van Buren," said Waterbury
+magnanimously.  "We are quite aware that your own signature to a check
+is a sufficient certification."
+
+The afternoon train for Newport carried Van Buren back to the social
+capital with a contract in his pocket, signed by Messrs. Hutchins &
+Waterbury, assuring the early publication of "The City of Credit," but
+in view of certain of its financial stipulations, jubilant as he was
+over the success of his first real step toward fame, Van Buren did not
+show it to Miss Tooker, as he might have done had it contained no
+reference to a check on the Tenth National Bank of New York calling for
+the payment of two thousand five hundred dollars to the Boston firm of
+publishers.
+
+
+III
+
+In September "The City of Credit" was published, and widely advertised
+by Messrs. Hutchins & Waterbury, and Van Buren took particular pains to
+secure the first copy from the press and to send it by messenger with a
+suitable inscription and a note to Miss Tooker.
+
+"I send you my book," he wrote, "not because I think it is worth
+reading, but for the double purpose of showing you that I have tried my
+best to fulfil your wishes, and to assure the work of at least the
+circulation of one copy.  It has all of my heart in it."
+
+For one reason or another, doubtless because there were quite five
+hundred other novels of a similar character put forth about the same
+time, by the end of October the world had not yet been consumed by any
+conflagration of Van Buren's lighting.
+
+"The book hangs fire," said Mr. Waterbury when Van Buren called upon
+him at his Boston office to inquire how things were going.  "We printed
+five hundred copies, and this morning's report shows two hundred and
+thirty still on hand.  A hundred and sixty were sent for review."
+
+"I wish they hadn't been," said Van Buren, with a rueful smile.  "They
+have provided just one hundred and sixty separate pieces of fuel for
+the critics to roast me with.  Have there been any favorable reviews of
+the book?"
+
+"None that I have seen--but don't you worry about that," replied Mr.
+Waterbury comfortingly.  "It's the counting-room, not the critics, that
+tell the story.  Something may happen yet to pull us out."
+
+"What, for instance?" asked Van Buren
+
+"Oh, I don't know," said Waterbury.  "You might do something
+sensational and get it in the papers.  That would help.  It's up to
+you, Mr. Van Buren."
+
+"I guess I'm all in," said Van Buren to himself as he walked down
+Tremont Street.  "Up to me to do something--by Jove!" he interrupted
+himself abruptly.  He had suddenly espied a copy of "The City of
+Credit" in a shop window.  "Up to me, is it?  Well, I think I shall
+rise to the occasion and not by doing anything sensational either."
+
+He entered the shop.
+
+"I want six copies of 'The City of Credit,'" he said quietly to the
+salesman.  "It's a first-class story.  Much of a demand for it?"
+
+"No," said the salesman.  "We have only the window copy, and we've had
+that over a month.  I can get them for you, however."
+
+"All right," said Van Buren.  "Just send them to Charles H. Harney, The
+Helicon Club, New York.  I'll pay for them now."
+
+Van Buren paid his bill, and, returning to the street, hailed a hansom.
+
+"Take me to some good book-shop," he said to the cabby.
+
+Instanter he was whirled around into Winter Street, where stands one of
+Boston's most famous literary distributing centers.
+
+"Have you 'The City of Credit'?" he asked the salesman.
+
+"I think we have a copy in stock," replied the latter.  "If we haven't,
+we can get it for you."
+
+"Do so, please," said Van Buren.  "I want a dozen copies--send them by
+express to Charles H. Harney, The Helicon Club, New York.  How much?"
+
+"It's a dollar and a half book, I think," said the clerk.  "The
+discount will make it $1.20--a dozen, did you say?  Twenty-five cents
+expressage--that will make it $14.65."
+
+Van Buren paid up without a whimper.  Once in the hansom again, he
+called up through the little hole in the top.
+
+"Isn't there any other book-shop in town where I can get what I want?"
+he demanded.
+
+"There's a dozen of 'em," replied the cabby.
+
+"Then go to them all," said Van Buren.
+
+That night when Van Buren started for New York he had purchased a
+hundred and fifty copies of "The City of Credit," and had ordered them
+all to be addressed to the clerk at the Helicon Club, with whom, upon
+his arrival in town, he arranged for their immediate reshipment to the
+Harrison Safety Deposit Storage Company on Forty-second Street.
+
+"I'm going to have my happiness, if I have to buy it," Van Buren
+muttered doggedly, as he crept into bed shortly after midnight.  And
+then, tossing sleeplessly in his bed and at last rejoicing in the
+possession of his late father's millions to back him in his enterprise,
+he laid the foundations of a plan comparable only to that of the Wheat
+King who corners the market, or the man of Cotton who loads himself up
+with more bales of that useful commodity than all the fertile acres of
+the South could raise in seven seasons.  Orders were despatched by wire
+and by mail to all the booksellers in the land whose names and
+addresses Van Buren could get hold of.  Department stores were put
+under contribution and their stock commandeered, and one of the biggest
+booms in the whole history of literature set in.
+
+"The City of Credit" went into its second, fifth, twentieth, fiftieth
+large edition.  Hutchins & Waterbury wrote Van Buren stating that a
+sudden turn in the market had made his book one of the six best sellers
+not only of this century but of all centuries.  Their presses were
+seething to the point of white heat with the copies of "The City of
+Credit" needed to supply the demand; their binders were working day and
+night with a double force, and their shipping department was pretty
+nearly swamped with the strain put upon it.  "Your royalty check on
+January 1st will be the fattest in the land," wrote Waterbury in a
+moment of enthusiasm.  "We are thinking of sending our staff of readers
+to the lunatic asylum and getting an entirely new set.  An order for
+four thousand has come in from Chicago this morning.  St. Louis wants
+fifteen hundred, and pretty nearly every other able-bodied town in the
+country is asking for from one to one hundred and fifty."  By Christmas
+time, if the publishers' announcements were to be believed, "The City
+of Credit" had attained to the enormous sale of three hundred and fifty
+thousand, and Van Buren was in receipt of a letter from a literary
+periodical asking for his photograph for publication in its February
+issue.  This brought him a realization of the fact that he might now
+fairly claim to be considered a literary success.  At any rate, he felt
+that he had now a right to approach Miss Tooker with a fair prospect of
+receiving from her a favorable answer to the question which she had a
+year before left an open one.
+
+And events showed that his feeling was justified, for two days later he
+enjoyed the blissful sensation of finding himself the accepted lover of
+the woman he had tried so hard to please.
+
+"Is it to be--yes?" he whispered, as they sat together in the
+conservatory of her father's city house.
+
+"It has--always been--yes," she replied softly, and then what happened
+is not for your eyes or mine.  Suffice it to say that Van Buren moved
+immediately from sordid old New York to become a dweller in the higher
+altitudes of Elysium.
+
+Incidentally the boom in "The City of Credit" stopped almost as
+suddenly as it had begun.  There was nobody apparently who felt called
+upon to throw in the necessary number of dollars to sustain an already
+over-stimulated market, which puzzled Messrs. Hutchins & Waterbury
+exceedingly.  They had hoped to live for the balance of their days upon
+the profits of their World's Best Seller.
+
+
+IV
+
+As the spring approached and the day set for Miss Tooker's wedding to
+Van Buren came nearer, the latter found himself daily becoming more and
+more a prey to conscience.  There was a decidedly large fly in the
+amber of his happiness, for as he viewed the part he had played in the
+forced success of "The City of Credit" he began to see it in its true
+light.  The first of March brought him his royalty check from Hutchins
+& Waterbury, and it was, as had been predicted, gratifyingly large, and
+reduced materially what he had called his "campaign expenses."  In the
+same mail, however, was a bill from the Storage Company, in one of
+whose spacious chambers there reposed more copies of his novel than he
+liked to think of--over 250,000--the actual sales had been 260,000 in
+spite of the published announcements of a higher figure.  The firm had
+thirty or forty thousand on hand, printed in a moment of confident
+enthusiasm when the flurry was at its height.  Both communications
+brought before Van Buren's mind's eye all too vividly the specter of
+his duplicity, and he was too much of a man of conscience to be able to
+put it lightly aside.  He tried to console himself with the idea that
+all is fair in love and war, but he could not, and his remorse caused
+him many a sleepless night.  Finally--it was on the eve of the posting
+of the wedding invitations--scruple overcame him, and he resolved that
+he could not honestly lead his bride to the altar with such a record of
+deceit upon his escutcheon, especially in view of the fact that it was
+through this deceit that his happiness had been won.
+
+"It is better to lose her before the ceremony than after it," he told
+himself, and, bitter though the confidence might be, he made up his
+mind to tell Miss Tooker everything.  "Only, I must break it gently,"
+he observed.
+
+With this difficult errand in mind, he called upon his fiancee, and,
+after the usual greeting, he started in on his confession.  He had
+hardly begun it, however, when his courage failed him, and with the
+oozing of that his words failed him also.  He did have the courage,
+however, to seek to reveal the exact situation in another way.
+
+"Ethel dear," he said, awkwardly fumbling his gloves, "I want to show
+you something.  I have a--a little surprise for you."
+
+The girl eyed him narrowly.
+
+"For me?" she said.
+
+"Yes," he answered.  "The fact is, it's--it's a sort of wedding present
+I have for you, and I think you ought to see it before--well, _now_.
+Will you go?"
+
+Miss Tooker was interested at once, and, taking a hansom, they were
+driven to the Harrison Storage Warehouse on Forty-second Street Arrived
+there, Van Buren led her to the elevator and thence up to the small
+room in which lay the corroding and tell-tale packages--an enormous
+bulk--that were slowly but surely eating up his happiness.
+
+"Why, Harry!" she cried as she gazed in bewilderment at the huge pile
+of unopened bundles.  "Are these all for me?"
+
+"Yes," gulped Van Buren, his face flaming.
+
+"But--what do they contain?" she asked.
+
+"Two hundred and fifty thousand copies of my--my book--'The City of
+Credit,'" said Van Buren, his eyes cast down.
+
+"You mean that you--" she began.
+
+"Yes, it's exactly that, Ethel.  I--I bought 'em all to--well, to boom
+the sales and to--make a name for myself in the world," he said
+sheepishly, "or rather for you--but I suppose now that you know---"
+
+"Then all this tremendous sale was arranged between you and your
+publishers to deceive me?" she asked.
+
+"Not at all," protested the unhappy Van Buren.  "On the contrary, I did
+it all myself.  Hutchins & Waterbury don't know any more about it than
+you did an hour ago.  No one knows--except you and I."
+
+Van Buren paused.
+
+"I could not let you marry me without knowing what I had done," he
+said.  "It would not be fair to--to our future."
+
+"Tell me all about it," she said quietly, and Van Buren made his
+confession complete.  He told her of his interview with Waterbury--how
+the latter had told him his book had fallen flat; how it was "up to
+him" to do something; how a sight of a single copy of "The City of
+Credit" in the Tremont Street shop window had tempted him first into a
+retail fall which had grown ultimately into a wholesale "crime"--as he
+put it.  He did not spare himself in the least degree, humiliating as
+the narration of his story was to him.
+
+"I suppose it is all up with me now," he said ruefully, when he had
+finished.
+
+"I don't know," said Ethel quietly.  "I don't know, Harry.  Perhaps.
+Take me home, please.  I want to show you something."
+
+The drive back to the Tooker mansion was taken in silence.  Van Buren
+despised himself too strongly to be able to speak, and Miss Tooker had
+fallen into a deep reverie which the poor fellow at her side feared
+meant irrevocable ruin to his hopes.
+
+"Come in," said Miss Tooker gravely, as the cab drew up at the house.
+"I want to take you up into our attic storeroom, and then ask you a
+plain question, Harry, and then I want you to answer that question
+simply and truthfully."
+
+Marveling much, Van Buren permitted himself to be led to the topmost
+floor of Miss Tooker's house.
+
+"Look in there," said she, opening the door of the storeroom.  "Do you
+see those packages?"
+
+"Yes," he said.  "They look very much like mine, only they're fewer."
+
+"Do you know what they contain?" she asked.
+
+"Books?" queried Van Buren, entering the room and tapping one of the
+bundles.
+
+"Yes--yours--your books--five thousand three hundred and ten copies of
+'The City of Credit,' Harry," she said, with a rueful smile.
+
+"You--" he ejaculated hoarsely.
+
+"Yes, I bought them all.  Some in Newport, some in New York, some at
+Lenox--oh, everywhere!  Now, tell me this," she interrupted.  "Do you
+suppose that I would condemn you for doing on a large scale what I have
+been doing on a smaller scale ever since last November?"
+
+A ray of hope dawned in Van Buren's eyes.
+
+"Ethel!" he cried, seising her by the hand.  "You bought all those--for
+me?"
+
+"I certainly did, Harry," she said quietly.  "With my pin money, and my
+bridge money and all the other kinds of money that I could wheedle out
+of my dear old daddy.  But answer me.  Have I the right to sit in
+judgment on you--"
+
+"Not by a long shot!" cried Van Buren.  "It would be an act of the most
+consummate hypocrisy."
+
+"That is the way I look at it, dear," she whispered, and then--well,
+all I have to say is that I don't believe anything like what happened
+at that precise moment ever happened in an attic storeroom before.
+
+And the wedding invitations were mailed that very evening.
+
+
+
+
+THE FABLE OF THE TWO MANDOLIN PLAYERS AND THE WILLING PERFORMER
+
+By GEORGE ADE
+
+Copyright 1899 by Herbert S. Stone & Co.
+
+
+A very attractive Debutante knew two Young Men, who called on her every
+Thursday Evening and brought their Mandolins along.  They were
+Conventional Young Men, of the Kind that you see wearing Spring
+Overcoats in the Clothing Advertisements.  One was named Fred, and the
+other was Eustace.
+
+The Mothers of the Neighborhood often remarked "What Perfect Manners
+Fred and Eustace have!"  Merely as an aside it may be added that Fred
+and Eustace were more Popular with the Mothers than they were with the
+Younger Set, although no one could say a Word against either of them.
+Only it was rumored in Keen Society that they didn't Belong.  The Fact
+that they went Calling in a Crowd, and took their Mandolins along, may
+give the Acute Reader some Idea of the Life that Fred and Eustace held
+out to the Young Women of their Acquaintance.
+
+The Debutante's name was Myrtle.  Her Parents were very Watchful, and
+did not encourage her to receive Callers, except such as were known to
+be Exemplary Young Men.  Fred and Eustace were a few of those who
+escaped the Black List.  Myrtle always appeared to be glad to see them,
+and they regarded her as a Darned Swell Girl.
+
+Fred's Cousin came from St. Paul on a Visit; and one Day, in the
+Street, he saw Myrtle, and noticed that Fred tipped his Hat, and gave
+her a Stage Smile.
+
+"Oh, Queen of Sheba!" exclaimed the Cousin from St. Paul, whose name
+was Gus, as he stood stock still and watched Myrtle's Reversible Plaid
+disappear around a Corner.  "She's a Bird.  Do you know her well?"
+
+"I know her Quite Well," replied Fred, coldly.  "She is a Charming
+Girl."
+
+"She is all of that.  You're a great Describer.  And now what Night are
+you going to take me around to Call on her?"
+
+Fred very naturally Hemmed and Hawed.  It must be remembered that
+Myrtle was a member of an Excellent Family, and had been schooled in
+the Proprieties, and it was not to be supposed that she would crave the
+Society of slangy old Gus, who had an abounding Nerve, and furthermore
+was as Fresh as the Mountain Air.
+
+He was the Kind of Fellow who would see a Girl twice, and then, upon
+meeting her the Third Time, he would go up and straighten her Cravat
+for her, and call her by her First Name.
+
+Put him into a Strange Company--en route to a Picnic--and by the time
+the Baskets were unpacked he would have a Blonde all to himself, and
+she would have traded her Fan for his College Pin.
+
+If a Fair-Looker on the Street happened to glance at him Hard he would
+run up and seize her by the Hand, and convince her that they had Met.
+And he always Got Away with it, too.
+
+In a Department Store, while awaiting for the Cash Boy to come back
+with the Change, he would find out the Girl's Name, her Favorite
+Flower, and where a Letter would reach her.
+
+Upon entering a Parlor Car at St. Paul he would select a Chair next to
+the Most Promising One in Sight, and ask her if she cared to have the
+Shade lowered.
+
+Before the Train cleared the Yards he would have the Porter bringing a
+Foot-Stool for the Lady.
+
+At Hastings he would be asking her if she wanted Something to Read.
+
+At Red Wing he would be telling her that she resembled Maxine Elliott,
+and showing her his Watch, left to him by his Grandfather, a Prominent
+Virginian.
+
+At La Crosse he would be reading the Menu Card to her, and telling her
+how different it is when you have Some One to join you in a Bite.
+
+At Milwaukee he would go out and buy a Bouquet for her, and when they
+rode into Chicago they would be looking but of the same Window, and he
+would be arranging for her Baggage with the Transfer Man.  After that
+they would be Old Friends.
+
+Now, Fred and Eustace had been at School with Gus, and they had seen
+his Work, and they were not disposed to Introduce him into One of the
+most Exclusive Homes in the City.
+
+They had known Myrtle for many Years; but they did not dare to Address
+her by her First Name, and they were Positive that if Gus attempted any
+of his usual Tactics with her she would be Offended; and, naturally
+enough, they would be Blamed for bringing him to the House.
+
+But Gus insisted.  He said he had seen Myrtle, and she Suited him from
+the Ground up, and he proposed to have Friendly Doings with her.  At
+last they told him they would take him if he promised to Behave.  Fred
+warned him that Myrtle would frown down any Attempt to be Familiar on
+Short Acquaintance, and Eustace said that as long as he had known
+Myrtle he had never Presumed to be Free and Forward with her.  He had
+simply played the Mandolin.  That was as Far Along as he had ever got.
+
+Gus told them not to Worry about him.  All he asked was a Start.  He
+said he was a Willing Performer, but as yet he never had been
+Disqualified for Crowding.
+
+Fred and Eustace took this to mean that he would not Overplay his
+Attentions, so they escorted him to the House.
+
+As soon as he had been Presented, Gus showed her where to sit on the
+Sofa, then he placed himself about Six Inches away and began to Buzz,
+looking her straight in the Eye.  He said that when he first saw her he
+Mistook her for Miss Prentice, who was said to be the Most Beautiful
+Girl in St. Paul, only, when he came closer, he saw that it couldn't be
+Miss Prentice, because Miss Prentice didn't have such Lovely Hair.
+Then he asked her the Month of her Birth and told her Fortune, thereby
+coming nearer to Holding her Hand within Eight Minutes than Eustace had
+come in a Lifetime.
+
+"Play something, Boys," he Ordered, just as if he had paid them Money
+to come along and make Music for him.
+
+They unlimbered their Mandolins and began to play a Sousa March.  He
+asked Myrtle if she had seen the New Moon.  She replied that she had
+not, so they went Outside.
+
+When Fred and Eustace finished the first Piece, Gus appeared at the
+open Window, and asked them to play "The Georgia Camp-Meeting," which
+had always been one of his Favorites.
+
+So they played that, and when they had Concluded there came a Voice
+from the Outer Darkness, and it was the Voice of Myrtle.  She said:
+"I'll tell you what to Play; play the Intermezzo."
+
+Fred and Eustace exchanged Glances.  They began to Perceive that they
+had been backed into a Siding.  With a few Potted Palms in front of
+them, and two Cards from the Union, they would have been just the same
+as a Hired Orchestra.
+
+But they played the Intermezzo and felt Peevish.  Then they went to the
+Window and looked out.  Gus and Myrtle were sitting in the Hammock,
+which had quite a Pitch toward the Center.  Gus had braced himself by
+Holding to the back of the Hammock.  He did not have his Arm around
+Myrtle, but he had it Extended in a Line parallel with her Back.  What
+he had done wouldn't Justify a Girl in saying, "Sir!" but it started a
+Real Scandal with Fred and Eustace.  They saw that the Only Way to Get
+Even with her was to go Home without saying "Good Night."  So they
+slipped out the Side Door, shivering with Indignation.
+
+After that, for several Weeks, Gus kept Myrtle so Busy that she had no
+Time to think of considering other Candidates.  He sent Books to her
+Mother, and allowed the Old Gentleman to take Chips away from him at
+Poker.
+
+They were Married in the Autumn, and Father-in-Law took Gus into the
+Firm, saying that he had needed a good Pusher for a Long Time.
+
+At the Wedding the two Mandolin Players were permitted to act as Ushers.
+
+MORAL: _To get a fair Trial of Speed use a Pace-Maker_.
+
+
+
+
+THE FABLE OF THE PREACHER WHO FLEW HIS KITE, BUT NOT BECAUSE HE WISHED
+TO DO SO
+
+By GEORGE ADE
+
+Copyright 1899 by Herbert S. Stone & Co.
+
+
+A certain Preacher became wise to the Fact that he was not making a Hit
+with his Congregation.  The Parishioners did not seem inclined to seek
+him out after Services and tell him he was a Pansy.  He suspected that
+they were Rapping him on the Quiet.  The Preacher knew there must be
+something wrong with his Talk.  He had been trying to Expound in a
+clear and straightforward Manner, omitting Foreign Quotations, setting
+up for illustration of his Points such Historical Characters as were
+familiar to his Hearers, putting the stubby Old English words ahead of
+the Latin, and rather flying low along the Intellectual Plane of the
+Aggregation that chipped in to pay his Salary.  But the Pew-Holders
+were not tickled.  They could Understand everything he said, and they
+began to think he was Common.
+
+So he studied the Situation and decided that if he wanted to Win them
+and make everybody believe he was a Nobby and Boss Minister he would
+have to hand out a little Guff.  He fixed it up Good and Plenty.
+
+On the following Sunday Morning he got up in the Lookout and read a
+Text that didn't mean anything, read from either Direction, and then he
+sized up his Flock with a Dreamy Eye and said: "We can not more
+adequately voice the Poetry and Mysticism of our Text than in those
+familiar Lines of the great Icelandic Poet, Ikon Navrojk:
+
+  "To hold is not to have--
+  Under the seared Firmament,
+  Where Chaos sweeps, and Vast Futurity
+  Sneers at these puny Aspirations--
+  There is the full Reprisal."
+
+
+When the Preacher concluded this Extract from the Well-Known Icelandic
+Poet he paused and looked downward, breathing heavily through his Nose,
+like Camille in the Third Act.
+
+A Stout Woman in the Front Row put on her Eye-Glasses and leaned
+forward so as not to miss Anything.  A Venerable Harness Dealer over at
+the Right nodded his Head solemnly.  He seemed to recognize the
+Quotation.  Members of the Congregation glanced at one another as if to
+say: "This is certainly Hot Stuff!"
+
+The Preacher wiped his Brow and said he had no Doubt that every one
+within the Sound of his Voice remembered what Quarolius had said,
+following the same Line of Thought.  It was Quarolius who disputed the
+Contention of the great Persian Theologian Ramtazuk, that the Soul in
+its reaching out after the Unknowable was guided by the Spiritual
+Genesis of Motive rather than by mere Impulse of Mentality.  The
+Preacher didn't know what all This meant, and he didn't care, but you
+can rest easy that the Pew-Holders were On in a minute.  He talked it
+off in just the Way that Cyrano talks when he gets Roxane so Dizzy that
+she nearly falls off the Piazza.
+
+The Parishioners bit their Lower Lips and hungered for more First-Class
+Language.  They had paid their Money for Tall Talk and were prepared to
+solve any and all styles of Delivery.  They held on to the Cushions and
+seemed to be having a Nice Time.
+
+The Preacher quoted copiously from the Great Poet Amebius.  He recited
+18 lines of Greek and then said: "How true this is!"  And not a
+Parishioner batted an Eye.
+
+It was Amebius whose Immortal Lines he recited in order to prove the
+Extreme Error of the Position assumed in the Controversy by the Famous
+Italian, Polenta.
+
+He had them Going, and there wasn't a Thing to it.  When he would get
+tired of faking Philosophy he would quote from a Celebrated Poet of
+Ecuador or Tasmania or some other Seaport Town.  Compared with this
+Verse, all of which was of the same School as the Icelandic
+Masterpiece, the most obscure and clouded Passage in Robert Browning
+was like a Plate-Glass Front in a State Street Candy Store just after
+the Colored Boy gets through using the Chamois.
+
+After that he became Eloquent, and began to get rid of long Boston
+Words that hadn't been used before that Season.  He grabbed a
+rhetorical Roman Candle in each Hand and you couldn't see him for the
+Sparks.
+
+After which he sank his Voice to a Whisper and talked about the Birds
+and the Flowers.  Then, although there was no Cue for him to Weep, he
+shed a few real Tears.  And there wasn't a dry Glove in the church.
+
+After he sat down he could tell by the Scared Look of the People in
+Front that he had made a Ten-Strike.
+
+Did they give him the Joyous Palm that Day?  Sure!
+
+The Stout Lady could not control her Feelings when she told how much
+the Sermon had helped her.  The venerable Harness Dealer said he wished
+to indorse the Able and Scholarly Criticism of Polenta.
+
+In fact, every one said the Sermon was Superfine and Dandy.  The only
+thing that worried the Congregation was the Fear that if it wished to
+retain such a Whale it might have to boost his Salary.
+
+In the Meantime the Preacher waited for some one to come and ask about
+Polenta, Amebius, Ramtazuk, Quarolius and the great Icelandic Poet,
+Navrojk.  But no one had the Face to step up and confess his Ignorance
+of these Celebrities.  The Pew-Holders didn't even admit among
+themselves that the Preacher had rung in some New Ones.  They stood
+Pat, and merely said it was an Elegant Sermon.
+
+Perceiving that they would stand for Anything, the Preacher knew what
+to do after that.
+
+MORAL: _Give the People what they Think they want_.
+
+
+
+
+THE SHADOWS ON THE WALL
+
+By MARY E. WILKINS FREEMAN
+
+Copyright 1903 by Doubleday, Page & Co.
+
+
+"Henry had words with Edward in the study the night before Edward
+died," said Caroline Glynn.  She was elderly, tall, and harshly thin,
+with a hard colourlessness of face.  She spoke not with acrimony, but
+with grave severity.  Rebecca Ann Glynn, younger, stouter and rosy of
+face between her crinkling puffs of gray hair, gasped, by way of
+assent.  She sat in a wide flounce of black silk in the corner of the
+sofa, and rolled terrified eyes from her sister Caroline to her sister
+Mrs. Stephen Brigham, who had been Emma Glynn, the one beauty of the
+family.  She was beautiful still, with a large, splendid, full-blown
+beauty; she filled a great rocking-chair with her superb bulk of
+femininity, and swayed gently back and forth, her black silks
+whispering and her black frills fluttering.  Even the shock of death
+(for her brother Edward lay dead in the house,) could not disturb her
+outward serenity of demeanour.  She was grieved over the loss of her
+brother: he had been the youngest, and she had been fond of him, but
+never had Emma Brigham lost sight of her own importance amidst the
+waters of tribulation.  She was always awake to the consciousness of
+her own stability in the midst of vicissitudes and the splendour of her
+permanent bearing.
+
+But even her expression of masterly placidity changed before her sister
+Caroline's announcement and her sister Rebecca Ann's gasp of terror and
+distress in response.
+
+"I think Henry might have controlled his temper, when poor Edward was
+so near his end," said she with an asperity which disturbed slightly
+the roseate curves of her beautiful mouth.
+
+"Of course he did not _know_," murmured Rebecca Ann in a faint tone
+strangely out of keeping with her appearance.
+
+One involuntarily looked again to be sure that such a feeble pipe came
+from that full-swelling chest.
+
+"Of course he did not know it," said Caroline quickly.  She turned on
+her sister with a strange sharp look of suspicion.  "How could he have
+known it?" said she.  Then she shrank as if from the other's possible
+answer.  "Of course you and I both know he could not," said she
+conclusively, but her pale face was paler than it had been before.
+
+Rebecca gasped again.  The married sister, Mrs. Emma Brigham, was now
+sitting up straight in her chair; she had ceased rocking, and was
+eyeing them both intently with a sudden accentuation of family likeness
+in her face.  Given one common intensity of emotion and similar lines
+showed forth, and the three sisters of one race were evident.
+
+"What do you mean?" said she impartially to them both.  Then she, too,
+seemed to shrink before a possible answer.  She even laughed an evasive
+sort of laugh.  "I guess you don't mean anything," said she, but her
+face wore still the expression of shrinking horror.
+
+"Nobody means anything," said Caroline firmly.  She rose and crossed
+the room toward the door with grim decisiveness.
+
+"Where are you going?" asked Mrs. Brigham.
+
+"I have something to see to," replied Caroline, and the others at once
+knew by her tone that she had some solemn and sad duty to perform in
+the chamber of death.
+
+"Oh," said Mrs. Brigham.
+
+After the door had closed behind Caroline, she turned to Rebecca.
+
+"Did Henry have many words with him?" she asked.
+
+"They were talking very loud," replied Rebecca evasively, yet with an
+answering gleam of ready response to the other's curiosity in the quick
+lift of her soft blue eyes.
+
+Mrs. Brigham looked at her.  She had not resumed rocking.  She still
+sat up straight with a slight knit of intensity on her fair forehead,
+between the pretty rippling curves of her auburn hair.
+
+"Did you--hear anything?" she asked in a low voice with a glance toward
+the door.
+
+"I was just across the hall in the south parlour, and that door was
+open and this door ajar," replied Rebecca with a slight flush.
+
+"Then you must have----"
+
+"I couldn't help it."
+
+"Everything?"
+
+"Most of it."
+
+"What was it?"
+
+"The old story."
+
+"I suppose Henry was mad, as he always was, because Edward was living
+on here for nothing, when he had wasted all the money father left him."
+
+Rebecca nodded with a fearful glance at the door.
+
+When Emma spoke again her voice was still more hushed.  "I know how he
+felt," said she.  "He had always been so prudent himself, and worked
+hard at his profession, and there Edward had never done anything but
+spend, and it must have looked to him as if Edward was living at his
+expense, but he wasn't."
+
+"No, he wasn't."
+
+"It was the way father left the property--that all the children should
+have a home here--and he left money enough to buy the food and all if
+we had all come home."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And Edward had a right here according to the terms of father's will,
+and Henry ought to have remembered it."
+
+"Yes, he ought."
+
+"Did he say hard things?"
+
+"Pretty hard from what I heard."
+
+"What?"
+
+"I heard him tell Edward that he had no business here at all, and he
+thought he had better go away."
+
+"What did Edward say?"
+
+"That he would stay here as long as he lived and afterward, too, if he
+was a mind to, and he would like to see Henry get him out; and then----"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Then he laughed."
+
+"What did Henry say?"
+
+"I didn't hear him say anything, but----"
+
+"But what?"
+
+"I saw him when he came out of this room."
+
+"He looked mad?"
+
+"You've seen him when he looked so."
+
+Emma nodded; the expression of horror on her face had deepened.
+
+"Do you remember that time he killed the cat because she had scratched
+him?"
+
+"Yes.  Don't!"
+
+Then Caroline reentered the room.  She went up to the stove in which a
+wood fire was burning--it was a cold, gloomy day of fall--and she
+warmed her hands, which were reddened from recent washing in cold water.
+
+Mrs. Brigham looked at her and hesitated.  She glanced at the door,
+which was still ajar, as it did not easily shut, being still swollen
+with the damp weather of the summer.  She rose and pushed it together
+with a sharp thud, which jarred the house.  Rebecca started painfully
+with a half exclamation.
+
+Caroline looked at her disapprovingly.
+
+"It is time you controlled your nerves, Rebecca," said she.
+
+"I can't help it," replied Rebecca with almost a wail.  "I am nervous.
+There's enough to make me so, the Lord knows."
+
+"What do you mean by that?" asked Caroline with her old air of sharp
+suspicion, and something between challenge and dread of its being met.
+
+Rebecca shrank.
+
+"Nothing," said she.
+
+"Then I wouldn't keep speaking in such a fashion."
+
+Emma, returning from the closed door, said imperiously that it ought to
+be fixed, it shut so hard.
+
+"It will shrink enough after we have had the fire a few days," replied
+Caroline.  "If anything is done to it it will be too small; there will
+be a crack at the sill."
+
+"I think Henry ought to be ashamed of himself for talking as he did to
+Edward," said Mrs. Brigham abruptly, but in an almost inaudible voice.
+
+"Hush!" said Caroline, with a glance of actual fear at the closed door.
+
+"Nobody can hear with the door shut."
+
+"He must have heard it shut, and----"
+
+"Well, I can say what I want to before he comes down, and I am not
+afraid of him."
+
+"I don't know who is afraid of him!  What reason is there for anybody
+to be afraid of Henry?" demanded Caroline.
+
+Mrs. Brigham trembled before her sister's look.  Rebecca gasped again.
+"There isn't any reason, of course.  Why should there be?"
+
+"I wouldn't speak so, then.  Somebody might overhear you and think it
+was queer.  Miranda Joy is in the south parlour sewing, you know."
+
+"I thought she went upstairs to stitch on the machine."
+
+"She did, but she has come down again."
+
+"Well, she can't hear."
+
+"I say again, I think Henry ought to be ashamed of himself.  I
+shouldn't think he'd ever get over it, having words with poor Edward
+the very night before he died.  Edward was enough sight better
+disposition than Henry, with all his faults.  I always thought a great
+deal of poor Edward, myself."
+
+Mrs. Brigham passed a large fluff of handkerchief across her eyes;
+Rebecca sobbed outright.
+
+"Rebecca," said Caroline admonishingly, keeping her mouth stiff and
+swallowing determinately.
+
+"I never heard him speak a cross word, unless he spoke cross to Henry
+that last night.  I don't know but he did, from what Rebecca
+overheard," said Emma.
+
+"Not so much cross as sort of soft, and sweet, and aggravating,"
+sniffled Rebecca.
+
+"He never raised his voice," said Caroline; "but he had his way."
+
+"He had a right to in this case."
+
+"Yes, he did."
+
+"He had as much of a right here as Henry," sobbed Rebecca, "and now
+he's gone, and he will never be in this home that poor father left him
+and the rest of us again."
+
+"What do you really think ailed Edward?" asked Emma in hardly more than
+a whisper.  She did not look at her sister.
+
+Caroline sat down in a nearby armchair, and clutched the arms
+convulsively until her thin knuckles whitened.
+
+"I told you," said she.
+
+Rebecca held her handkerchief over her mouth, and looked at them above
+it with terrified, streaming eyes.
+
+"I know you said that he had terrible pains in his stomach, and had
+spasms, but what do you think made him have them?"
+
+"Henry called it gastric trouble.  You know Edward has always had
+dyspepsia."
+
+Mrs. Brigham hesitated a moment.  "Was there any talk of
+an--examination?" said she.
+
+Then Caroline turned on her fiercely.
+
+"No," said she in a terrible voice.  "No."
+
+The three sisters' souls seemed to meet on one common ground of
+terrified understanding through their eyes.  The old-fashioned latch of
+the door was heard to rattle, and a push from without made the door
+shake ineffectually.  "It's Henry," Rebecca sighed rather than
+whispered.  Mrs. Brigham settled herself after a noiseless rush.
+Across the floor into her rocking-chair again, and was swaying back and
+forth with her head comfortably leaning back, when the door at last
+yielded and Henry Glynn entered.  He cast a covertly sharp,
+comprehensive glance at Mrs. Brigham with her elaborate calm; at
+Rebecca quietly huddled in the corner of the sofa with her handkerchief
+to her face and only one small reddened ear as attentive as a dog's
+uncovered and revealing her alertness for his presence; at Caroline
+sitting with a strained composure in her armchair by the stove.  She
+met his eyes quite firmly with a look of inscrutable fear, and defiance
+of the fear and of him.
+
+Henry Glynn looked more like this sister than the others.  Both had the
+same hard delicacy of form and feature, both were tall and almost
+emaciated, both had a sparse growth of gray blond hair far back from
+high intellectual foreheads, both had an almost noble aquilinity of
+feature.  They confronted each other with the pitiless immovability of
+two statues in whose marble lineaments emotions were fixed for all
+eternity.
+
+Then Henry Glynn smiled and the smile transformed his face.  He looked
+suddenly years younger, and an almost boyish recklessness and
+irresolution appeared in his face.  He flung himself into a chair with
+a gesture which was bewildering from its incongruity with his general
+appearance.  He leaned his head back, flung one leg over the other, and
+looked laughingly at Mrs. Brigham.
+
+"I declare, Emma, you grow younger every year," he said.
+
+She flushed a little, and her placid mouth widened at the corners.  She
+was susceptible to praise.
+
+"Our thoughts to-day ought to belong to the one of us who will _never_
+grow older," said Caroline in a hard voice.
+
+Henry looked at her, still smiling.  "Of course, we none of us forget
+that," said he, in a deep, gentle voice, "but we have to speak to the
+living, Caroline, and I have not seen Emma for a long time, and the
+living are as dear as the dead."
+
+"Not to me," said Caroline.
+
+She rose, and went abruptly out of the room again.  Rebecca also rose
+and hurried after her, sobbing loudly.
+
+Henry looked slowly after them.
+
+"Caroline is completely unstrung," said he.
+
+Mrs. Brigham rocked.  A confidence in him inspired by his manner was
+stealing over her.  Out of that confidence she spoke quite easily and
+naturally.
+
+"His death was very sudden," said she.
+
+Henry's eyelids quivered slightly but his gaze was unswerving.
+
+"Yes," said he; "it was very sudden.  He was sick only a few hours."
+
+"What did you call it?"
+
+"Gastric."
+
+"You did not think of an examination?"
+
+"There was no need.  I am perfectly certain as to the cause of his
+death."
+
+Suddenly Mrs. Brigham felt a creep as of some live horror over her very
+soul.  Her flesh prickled with cold, before an inflection of his voice.
+She rose, tottering on weak knees.
+
+"Where are you going?" asked Henry in a strange, breathless voice.
+
+Mrs. Brigham said something incoherent about some sewing which she had
+to do, some black for the funeral, and was out of the room.  She went
+up to the front chamber which she occupied.  Caroline was there.  She
+went close to her and took her hands, and the two sisters looked at
+each other.
+
+"Don't speak, don't, I won't have it!" said Caroline finally in an
+awful whisper.
+
+"I won't," replied Emma.
+
+That afternoon the three sisters were in the study, the large front
+room on the ground floor across the hall from the south parlour, when
+the dusk deepened.
+
+Mrs. Brigham was hemming some black material.  She sat close to the
+west window for the waning light.  At last she laid her work on her lap.
+
+"It's no use, I cannot see to sew another stitch until we have a
+light," said she.
+
+Caroline, who was writing some letters at the table, turned to Rebecca,
+in her usual place on the sofa.
+
+"Rebecca, you had better get a lamp," she said.
+
+Rebecca started up; even in the dusk her face showed her agitation.
+
+"It doesn't seem to me that we need a lamp quite yet," she said in a
+piteous, pleading voice like a child's.
+
+"Yes, we do," returned Mrs. Brigham peremptorily.  "We must have a
+light.  I must finish this to-night or I can't go to the funeral, and I
+can't see to sew another stitch."
+
+"Caroline can see to write letters, and she is farther from the window
+than you are," said Rebecca.
+
+"Are you trying to save kerosene or are you lazy, Rebecca Glynn?" cried
+Mrs. Brigham.  "I can go and get the light myself, but I have this work
+all in my lap."
+
+Caroline's pen stopped scratching.
+
+"Rebecca, we must have the light," said she.
+
+"Had we better have it in here?" asked Rebecca weakly.
+
+"Of course!  Why not?" cried Caroline sternly.
+
+"I am sure I don't want to take my sewing into the other room, when it
+is all cleaned up for to-morrow," said Mrs. Brigham.
+
+"Why, I never heard such a to-do about lighting a lamp."
+
+Rebecca rose and left the room.  Presently she entered with a lamp--a
+large one with a white porcelain shade.  She set it on a table, an
+old-fashioned card-table which was placed against the opposite wall
+from the window.  That wall was clear of bookcases and books, which
+were only on three sides of the room.  That opposite wall was taken up
+with three doors, the one small space being occupied by the table.
+Above the table on the old-fashioned paper, of a white satin gloss,
+traversed by an indeterminate green scroll, hung quite high a small
+gilt and black-framed ivory miniature taken in her girlhood of the
+mother of the family.  When the lamp was set on the table beneath it,
+the tiny pretty face painted on the ivory seemed to gleam out with a
+look of intelligence.
+
+"What have you put that lamp over there for?" asked Mrs. Brigham, with
+more of impatience than her voice usually revealed.  "Why didn't you
+set it in the hall and have done with it?  Neither Caroline nor I can
+see if it is on that table."
+
+"I thought perhaps you would move," replied Rebecca hoarsely.
+
+"If I do move, we can't both sit at that table.  Caroline has her paper
+all spread around.  Why don't you set the lamp on the study table in
+the middle of the room, then we can both see?"
+
+Rebecca hesitated.  Her face was very pale.  She looked with an appeal
+that was fairly agonizing at her sister Caroline.
+
+"Why don't you put the lamp on this table, as she says?" asked
+Caroline, almost fiercely.  "Why do you act so, Rebecca?"
+
+"I should think you _would_ ask her that," said Mrs. Brigham.  "She
+doesn't act like herself at all."
+
+Rebecca took the lamp and set it on the table in the middle of the room
+without another word.  Then she turned her back upon it quickly and
+seated herself on the sofa, and placed a hand over her eyes as if to
+shade them, and remained so.
+
+"Does the light hurt your eyes, and is that the reason why you didn't
+want the lamp?" asked Mrs. Brigham kindly.
+
+"I always like to sit in the dark," replied Rebecca chokingly.
+
+Then she snatched her handkerchief hastily from her pocket and began to
+weep.  Caroline continued to write, Mrs. Brigham to sew.
+
+Suddenly Mrs. Brigham as she sewed glanced at the opposite wall.  The
+glance became a steady stare.  She looked intently, her work suspended
+in her hands.  Then she looked away again and took a few more stitches,
+then she looked again, and again turned to her task.  At last she laid
+her work in her lap and stared concentratedly.  She looked from the
+wall around the room, taking note of the various objects; she looked at
+the wall long and intently.  Then she turned to her sisters.
+
+"What _is_ that?" said she.
+
+"What?" asked Caroline harshly; her pen scratched loudly across the
+paper.
+
+Rebecca gave one of her convulsive gasps.
+
+"That strange shadow on the wall," replied Mrs. Brigham.
+
+Rebecca sat with her face hidden: Caroline dipped her pen in the
+inkstand.
+
+"Why don't you turn around and look?" asked Mrs. Brigham in a wondering
+and somewhat aggrieved way.
+
+"I am in a hurry to finish this letter, if Mrs. Wilson Ebbit is going
+to get word in time to come to the funeral," replied Caroline shortly.
+
+Mrs. Brigham rose, her work slipping to the floor, and she began
+walking around the room, moving various articles of furniture, with her
+eyes on the shadow.
+
+Then suddenly she shrieked out:
+
+"Look at this awful shadow!  What is it?  Caroline, look, look!
+Rebecca, look!  _What is it_?"
+
+All Mrs. Brigham's triumphant placidity was gone.  Her handsome face
+was livid with horror.  She stood stiffly pointing at the shadow.
+
+"Look!" said she, pointing her finger at it.  "Look!  What is it?"
+
+Then Rebecca burst out in a wild wail after a shuddering glance at the
+wall:
+
+"Oh, Caroline, there it is again!  There it is again!"
+
+"Caroline Glynn, you look!" said Mrs. Brigham.  "Look!  What is that
+dreadful shadow?"
+
+Caroline rose, turned, and stood confronting the wall.
+
+"How should I know?" she said.
+
+"It has been there every night since he died," cried Rebecca.--"Every
+night?"
+
+"Yes.  He died Thursday and this is Saturday; that makes three nights,"
+said Caroline rigidly.  She stood as if holding herself calm with a
+vise of concentrated will.
+
+"It--it looks like--like----" stammered Mrs. Brigham in a tone of
+intense horror.--"I know what it looks like well enough," said
+Caroline.  "I've got eyes in my head."
+
+"It looks like Edward," burst out Rebecca in a sort of frenzy of fear.
+"Only----"
+
+"Yes, it does," assented Mrs. Brigham, whose horror-stricken tone
+matched her sister's, "only----  Oh, it is awful!  What is it,
+Caroline?"
+
+"I ask you again, how should I know?" replied Caroline.  "I see it
+there like you.  How should I know any more than you?"--"It _must_ be
+something in the room," said Mrs. Brigham, staring wildly around.
+
+"We moved everything in the room the first night it came," said
+Rebecca; "it is not anything in the room."
+
+Caroline turned upon her with a sort of fury.  "Of course it is
+something in the room," said she.  "How you act!  What do you mean by
+talking so?  Of course it is something in the room."
+
+"Of course, it is," agreed Mrs. Brigham, looking at Caroline
+suspiciously.  "Of course it must be.  It is only a coincidence.  It
+just happens so.  Perhaps it is that fold of the window curtain that
+makes it.  It must be something in the room."
+
+"It is not anything in the room," repeated Rebecca with obstinate
+horror.
+
+The door opened suddenly and Henry Glynn entered.
+
+He began to speak, then his eyes followed the direction of the others'.
+He stood stock still staring at the shadow on the wall.  It was life
+size and stretched across the white parallelogram of a door, half
+across the wall space on which the picture hung.
+
+"What is that?" he demanded in a strange voice.
+
+"It must be due to something in the room," Mrs. Brigham said faintly.
+
+"It is not due to anything in the room," said Rebecca again with the
+shrill insistency of terror.
+
+"How you act, Rebecca Glynn," said Caroline.
+
+Henry Glynn stood and stared a moment longer.  His face showed a gamut
+of emotions--horror, conviction, then furious incredulity.  Suddenly he
+began hastening hither and thither about the room.  He moved the
+furniture with fierce jerks, turning ever to see the effect upon the
+shadow on the wall.  Not a line of its terrible outlines wavered.
+
+"It must be something in the room!" he declared in a voice which seemed
+to snap like a lash.
+
+His face changed.  The inmost secrecy of his nature seemed evident
+until one almost lost sight of his lineaments.  Rebecca stood close to
+her sofa, regarding him with woeful, fascinated eyes.  Mrs. Brigham
+clutched Caroline's hand.  They both stood in a corner out of his way.
+For a few moments he raged about the room like a caged wild animal.  He
+moved every piece of furniture; when the moving of a piece did not
+affect the shadow, he flung it to the floor, the sisters watching.
+
+Then suddenly he desisted.  He laughed and began straightening the
+furniture which he had flung down.
+
+"What an absurdity," he said easily.  "Such a to-do about a shadow."
+
+"That's so," assented Mrs. Brigham, in a scared voice which she tried
+to make natural.  As she spoke she lifted a chair near her.
+
+"I think you have broken the chair that Edward was so fond of," said
+Caroline.
+
+Terror and wrath were struggling for expression on her face.  Her mouth
+was set, her eyes shrinking.  Henry lifted the chair with a show of
+anxiety.
+
+"Just as good as ever," he said pleasantly.  He laughed again, looking
+at his sisters.  "Did I scare you?" he said.  "I should think you might
+be used to me by this time.  You know my way of wanting to leap to the
+bottom of a mystery, and that shadow does look--queer, like--and I
+thought if there was any way of accounting for it I would like to
+without any delay."--"You don't seem to have succeeded," remarked
+Caroline dryly, with a slight glance at the wall.
+
+Henry's eyes followed hers and he quivered perceptibly.
+
+"Oh, there is no accounting for shadows," he said, and he laughed
+again.  "A man is a fool to try to account for shadows."
+
+Then the supper bell rang, and they all left the room, but Henry kept
+his back to the wall, as did, indeed, the others.
+
+Mrs. Brigham pressed close to Caroline as she crossed the hall.  "He
+looked like a demon!" she breathed in her ear.
+
+Henry led the way with an alert motion like a boy; Rebecca brought up
+the rear; she could scarcely walk, her knees trembled so.
+
+"I can't sit in that room again this evening," she whispered to
+Caroline after supper.
+
+"Very well, we will sit in the south room," replied Caroline.  "I think
+we will sit in the south parlour," she said aloud; "it isn't as damp as
+the study, and I have a cold."
+
+So they all sat in the south room with their sewing.  Henry read the
+newspaper, his chair drawn close to the lamp on the table.  About nine
+o'clock he rose abruptly and crossed the hall to the study.  The three
+sisters looked at one another.  Mrs. Brigham rose, folded her rustling
+skirts compactly around her, and began tiptoeing toward the door.
+
+"What are you going to do?" inquired Rebecca agitatedly.--"I am going
+to see what he is about," replied Mrs. Brigham cautiously.
+
+She pointed as she spoke to the study door across the hall; it was
+ajar.  Henry had striven to pull it together behind him, but it had
+somehow swollen beyond the limit with curious speed.  It was still ajar
+and a streak of light showed from top to bottom.  The hall lamp was not
+lit.
+
+"You had better stay where you are," said Caroline with guarded
+sharpness.
+
+"I am going to see," repeated Mrs. Brigham firmly.
+
+Then she folded her skirts so tightly that her bulk with its swelling
+curves was revealed in a black silk sheath, and she went with a slow
+toddle across the hall to the study door.  She stood there, her eye at
+the crack.
+
+In the south room Rebecca stopped sewing and sat watching with dilated
+eyes.  Caroline sewed steadily.  What Mrs. Brigham, standing at the
+crack in the study door, saw was this:
+
+Henry Glynn, evidently reasoning that the source of the strange shadow
+must be between the table on which the lamp stood and the wall, was
+making systematic passes and thrusts all over and through the
+intervening space with an old sword which had belonged to his father.
+Not an inch was left unpierced.  He seemed to have divided the space
+into mathematical sections.  He brandished the sword with a sort of
+cold fury and calculation; the blade gave out flashes of light, the
+shadow remained unmoved.  Mrs. Brigham, watching, felt herself cold
+with horror.
+
+Finally Henry ceased and stood with the sword in hand and raised as if
+to strike, surveying the shadow on the wall threateningly.  Mrs.
+Brigham toddled back across the hall and shut the south room door
+behind her before she related what she had seen.
+
+"He looked like a demon!" she said again.  "Have you got any of that
+old wine in the house, Caroline?  I don't feel as if I could stand much
+more."
+
+Indeed, she looked overcome.  Her handsome placid face was worn and
+strained and pale.
+
+"Yes, there's plenty," said Caroline; "you can have some when you go to
+bed."
+
+"I think we had all better take some," said Mrs. Brigham.
+
+"Oh, my God, Caroline, what----"
+
+"Don't ask and don't speak," said Caroline.
+
+"No, I am not going to," replied Mrs. Brigham; "but----"
+
+Rebecca moaned aloud.
+
+"What are you doing that for?" asked Caroline harshly.
+
+"Poor Edward," returned Rebecca.
+
+"That is all you have to groan for," said Caroline.  "There is nothing
+else."
+
+"I am going to bed," said Mrs. Brigham.  "I sha'n't be able to be at
+the funeral if I don't."
+
+Soon the three sisters went to their chambers and the south parlour was
+deserted.  Caroline called to Henry in the study to put out the light
+before he came upstairs.  They had been gone about an hour when he came
+into the room bringing the lamp which had stood in the study.  He set
+it on the table and waited a few minutes, pacing up and down.  His face
+was terrible, his fair complexion showed livid; his blue eyes seemed
+dark blanks of awful reflections.
+
+Then he took the lamp up and returned to the library.  He set the lamp
+on the centre table, and the shadow sprang out on the wall.  Again he
+studied the furniture and moved it about, but deliberately, with none
+of his former frenzy.  Nothing affected the shadow.  Then he returned
+to the south room with the lamp and again waited.  Again he returned to
+the study and placed the lamp on the table, and the shadow sprang out
+upon the wall.  It was midnight before he went upstairs.  Mrs. Brigham
+and the other sisters, who could not sleep, heard him.
+
+The next day was the funeral.  That evening the family sat in the south
+room.  Some relatives were with them.  Nobody entered the study until
+Henry carried a lamp in there after the others had retired for the
+night.  He saw again the shadow on the wall leap to an awful life
+before the light.
+
+The next morning at breakfast Henry Glynn announced that he had to go
+to the city for three days.  The sisters looked at him with surprise.
+He very seldom left home, and just now his practice had been neglected
+on account of Edward's death.  He was a physician.
+
+"How can you leave your patients now?" asked Mrs. Brigham wonderingly.
+
+"I don't know how to, but there is no other way," replied Henry easily.
+"I have had a telegram from Doctor Mitford."
+
+"Consultation?" inquired Mrs. Brigham.
+
+"I have business," replied Henry.
+
+Doctor Mitford was an old classmate of his who lived in a neighbouring
+city and who occasionally called upon him in the case of a consultation.
+
+After he had gone Mrs. Brigham said to Caroline that after all Henry
+had not said that he was going to consult with Doctor Mitford, and she
+thought it very strange.
+
+"Everything is very strange," said Rebecca with a shudder.
+
+"What do you mean?" inquired Caroline sharply.
+
+"Nothing," replied Rebecca.
+
+Nobody entered the library that day, nor the next, nor the next.  The
+third day Henry was expected home, but he did not arrive and the last
+train from the city had come.
+
+"I call it pretty queer work," said Mrs. Brigham.  "The idea of a
+doctor leaving his patients for three days anyhow, at such a time as
+this, and I know he has some very sick ones; he said so.  And the idea
+of a consultation lasting three days!  There is no sense in it, and
+_now_ he has not come.  I don't understand it, for my part."
+
+"I don't either," said Rebecca.
+
+They were all in the south parlour.  There was no light in the study
+opposite, and the door was ajar.
+
+Presently Mrs. Brigham rose--she could not have told why; something
+seemed to impel her, some will outside her own.  She went out of the
+room, again wrapping her rustling skirts around that she might pass
+noiselessly, and began pushing at the swollen door of the study.
+
+"She has not got any lamp," said Rebecca in a shaking voice.
+
+Caroline, who was writing letters, rose again, took a lamp (there were
+two in the room) and followed her sister.  Rebecca had risen, but she
+stood trembling, not venturing to follow.  The doorbell rang, but the
+others did not hear it; it was on the south door on the other side of
+the house from the study.  Rebecca, after hesitating until the bell
+rang the second time, went to the door; she remembered that the servant
+was out.
+
+Caroline and her sister Emma entered the study.  Caroline set the lamp
+on the table.  They looked at the wall.  "Oh, my God," gasped Mrs.
+Brigham, "there are--there are two--shadows."  The sisters stood
+clutching each other, staring at the awful things on the wall.  Then
+Rebecca came in, staggering, with a telegram in her hand.  "Here is--a
+telegram," she gasped.  "Henry is--dead."
+
+
+
+
+MAJOR PERDUE'S BARGAIN
+
+By JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS
+
+Copyright 1899 by Charles Scribner's Sons.
+
+
+When next I had an opportunity to talk with Aunt Minervy Ann, she
+indulged in a hearty laugh before saying a word, and it was some time
+before she found her voice.
+
+"What is so funny to-day?" I inquired.
+
+"Me, suh--nothin' tall 'bout me, an' 'tain't only ter day, nudder.
+Hit's eve'y day sence I been big 'nuff fer to see myse'f in de spring
+branch.  I laughed den, an' I laugh now eve'y time I see myse'f in my
+min'--ef I' got any min'.  I wuz talkin' ter Hamp las' night an'
+tellin' 'im how I start in ter tell you sump'n 'bout Marse Paul Conant'
+shoulder, an' den eend up by tellin' you eve'ything else I know but dat.
+
+"Hamp low, he did, 'Dat ain't nothin', bekaze when I ax you ter marry
+me, you start in an' tell me 'bout a nigger gal 'cross dar in Jasper
+County, which she make promise fer ter marry a man an' she crossed her
+heart; an' den when de time come she stood up an' marry 'im an' fin'
+out 'tain't de same man, but somebody what she ain't never see' befo'.'
+
+"I 'speck dat's so, suh, bekaze dey wuz sump'n like dat happen in
+Jasper County.  You know de Waters fambly--dey kep' race-hosses.  Well,
+suh, 'twuz right on der plantation.  Warren Waters tol' me 'bout dat
+hisse'f.  He wuz de hoss-trainer, an' he 'uz right dar on de groun'.
+When de gal done married, she look up an' holler, 'You ain't my
+husban', bekaze I ain't make no promise fer ter marry you.'  De man he
+laugh, an' say, 'Don't need no promise atter you done married.'
+
+"Well, suh, dey say dat gal wuz skeer'd--skeer'd fer true.  She sot on'
+look in der fire.  De man sot an' look at 'er.  She try ter slip out de
+do', an' he slipped wid 'er.  She walked to'rds de big house, an' he
+walkt wid 'er.  She come back, an' he come wid 'er.  She run an' he run
+wid 'er.  She cry an' he laugh at 'er.  She dunner what to do.  Bimeby
+she tuck a notion dat de man mought be de Ol' Boy hisse'f, an' she
+dropped down on her knees an' 'gun ter pray.  Dis make de man restless;
+look like he frettin'.  Den he 'gun ter shake like he havin' chill.
+Den he slip down out'n de cheer.  Down he went on his all-fours.  Den
+his cloze drapped off, an' bless gracious! dar he wuz, a great big
+black shaggy dog wid a short chain roun' his neck.  Some un um flung a
+chunk of fire at 'im, an' he run out howlin'.
+
+"Dat wuz de last dey seed un 'im, suh.  Dey flung his cloze in de fire,
+an' dey make a blaze dat come plum out'n de top er de chimbley stack.
+Dat what make me tell Hamp 'bout it, suh.  He ax me fer ter marry 'im,
+an' I wan't so mighty sho' dat he wan't de Ol' Boy."
+
+"Well, that is queer, if true," said I, "but how about Mr. Conant's
+crippled shoulder?"
+
+"Oh, it's de trufe, suh.  Warren Waters tol' me dat out'n his own mouf,
+an' he wuz right dar.  I dunno but what de gal wuz some er his kinnery.
+I don't min' tellin' you dat 'bout Marse Paul, suh, but you mustn't let
+on 'bout it, bekaze Marse Tumlin an' Miss Vallie des' ez tetchous 'bout
+dat ez dey kin be.  I'd never git der fergivunce ef dey know'd I was
+settin' down here tellin' 'bout dat.
+
+"You know how 'twaz in dem days.  De folks what wuz de richest wuz de
+wussest off when de army come home from battlin'.  I done tol' you
+'bout Marse Tumlin.  He ain't had nothin' in de roun' worl' but a whole
+passel er lan', an' me an' Miss Vallie.  I don't count Hamp, bekaze
+Hamp 'fuse ter blieve he's free twel he ramble 'roun' an' fin' out de
+patterollers ain't gwine ter take 'im up.  Dat how come I had ter sell
+ginger-cakes an' chicken-pies dat time.  De money I made at dat ain't
+last long, bekaze Marse Tumlin he been use' ter rich vittles, an' he
+went right downtown an' got a bottle er chow-chow, an' some olives, an'
+some sardines, an' some cheese, an' you know yo'se'f, suh, dat money
+ain't gwine ter las' when you buy dat kin' er doin's.
+
+"Well, suh, we done mighty well whiles de money helt out, but 'tain't
+court-week all de time, an' when dat de case, money got ter come fum
+some'rs else 'sides sellin' cakes an' pies.  Bimeby, Hamp he got work
+at de liberty stable, whar dey hire out hosses an' board um.  I call it
+a hoss tavern, suh, but Hamp, he 'low it's a liberty stable.  Anyhow,
+he got work dar, an' dat sorter he'p out.  Sometimes he'd growl bekaze
+I tuck his money fer ter he'p out my white folks, but when he got right
+mad I'd gi' Miss Vallie de wink, an' she'd say: 'Hampton, how'd you
+like ter have a little dram ter-night?  You look like youer tired.'  I
+could a-hugged 'er fer de way she done it, she 'uz dat cute.  An' den
+Hamp, he'd grin an' low, 'I ain't honin' fer it, Miss Vallie, but
+'twon't do me no harm, an' it may do me good.'
+
+"An' den, suh, he'd set down, an' atter he got sorter warmed up wid de
+dram, he'd kinder roll his eye and low, 'Miss Vallie, she is a fine
+white 'oman!'  Well, suh, 'tain't long 'fo' we had dat nigger man
+trained--done trained, bless you' soul!  One day Miss Vallie had ter go
+'cross town, an' she went by de liberty stable whar Hamp wuz at,
+leastways, he seed 'er some'rs; an' he come home dat night lookin' like
+he wuz feelin' bad.  He 'fuse ter talk.  Bimeby, atter he had his
+supper, he say, 'I seed Miss Vallie downtown ter-day.  She wuz wid Miss
+Irene, an' dat 'ar frock she had on look mighty shabby.'  I low, 'Well,
+it de bes' she got.  She ain't got money like de Chippendales, an' Miss
+Irene don't keer how folks' cloze look.  She too much quality fer dat.'
+Hamp say, 'Whyn't you take some er yo' money an' make Miss Vallie git
+er nice frock?'  I low, 'Whar I got any money?'  Hamp he hit his pocket
+an' say, 'You got it right here.'
+
+"An' sho' 'nuff, suh, dat nigger man had a roll er money--mos' twenty
+dollars.  Some hoss drovers had come long an' Hamp made dat money by
+trimmin' up de ol' mules dey had an' makin' um look young.  He's got de
+art er dat, suh, an' dey paid 'im well.  Dar wuz de money, but how wuz
+I gwine ter git it in Miss Vallie's han'?  I kin buy vittles an' she
+not know whar dey come fum, but when it come ter buyin' frocks--well,
+suh, hit stumped me.  Dey wan't but one way ter do it, an' I done it.
+I make like I wuz mad.  I tuck de money an' went in de house dar whar
+Miss Vallie wuz sewin' an' mendin'.  I went stompin' in, I did, an'
+when I got in I started my tune.
+
+"I low, 'Ef de Perdues gwine ter go scandalizin' deyse'f by trottin'
+down town in broad daylight wid all kinder frocks on der back, I'm
+gwine 'way fum here; an' I dun'ner but what I'll go anyhow.  'Tain't
+bekaze dey's any lack er money, fer here de money right here.'  Wid dat
+I slammed it down on de table.  'Dar! take dat an' git you a frock
+dat'll make you look like sump'n when you git outside er dis house.
+An' whiles you er gittin', git sump'n for ter put on yo' head!'"
+
+Whether it was by reason of a certain dramatic faculty inherent in her
+race that she was able to summon emotions at will, or whether it was
+mere unconscious reproduction, I am not prepared to say.  But certain
+it is that, in voice and gesture, in tone and attitude, and in a
+certain passionate earnestness of expression, Aunt Minervy Ann built up
+the whole scene before my eyes with such power that I seemed to have
+been present when it occurred.  I felt as if she had conveyed me bodily
+into the room to become a witness of the episode.  She went on, still
+with a frown on her face and a certain violence of tone and manner:
+
+"I whipped 'roun' de room a time er two, pickin' up de cheers an'
+slammin' um down agin, an' knockin' things 'roun' like I wuz mad.  Miss
+Vallie put her sewin' down an' lay her han' on de money.  She low,
+'What's dis, Aunt Minervy Ann?'  I say, 'Hit's money, dat what
+'tis--nothin' but nasty, stinkin' money!  I wish dey wan't none in de
+worl' less'n I had a bairlful.'  She sorter fumble at de money wid 'er
+fingers.  You dunno, suh, how white an' purty an' weak her han' look
+ter me dat night.  She low, 'Aunt Minervy Ann, I can't take dis.'  I
+blaze' out at 'er, 'You don't hafter take it; you done got it!  An' ef
+you don't keep it, I'll rake up eve'y rag an' scrap I got an' leave dis
+place.  Now, you des' try me!'"
+
+[Illustration: Mary E. Wilkins Freeman]
+
+Again Aunt Minervy Ann summoned to her aid the passion of a moment that
+had passed away, and again I had the queer experience of seeming to
+witness the whole scene.  She continued:
+
+"Wid dat, I whipt out er de room an' out er de house an' went an' sot
+down out dar in my house whar Hamp was at.  Hamp, he low, 'What she
+say?'  I say, 'She ain't had time ter say nothin'--I come 'way fum
+dar.'  He low, 'You ain't brung dat money back, is you?'  I say: 'Does
+you think I'm a start naked fool?'  He low: 'Kaze ef you is, I'll put
+it right spang in de fire here.'
+
+"Well, suh, I sot dar some little time, but eve'ything wuz so still in
+de house, bein's Marse Tumlin done gone downtown, dat I crope back an'
+crope in fer ter see what Miss Vallie doin'.  Well, suh, she wuz
+cryin'--settin' dar cryin'.  I 'low, 'Honey, is I say anything fer ter
+hurt yo' feelin's?'  She blubber' out, 'You know you ain't!' an' den
+she cry good-fashion.
+
+"Des 'bout dat time, who should come in but Marse Tumlin.  He look at
+Miss Vallie an' den he look at me.  He say, 'Valentine, what de
+matter?'  I say, 'It's me!  I'm de one!  I made 'er cry.  I done sump'n
+ter hurt 'er feelin's.'  She low, ''Tain't so, an' you know it.  I'm
+des cryin' bekaze you too good ter me.'
+
+"Well, suh, I had ter git out er dar fer ter keep fum chokin'.  Marse
+Tumlin foller me out, an' right here on de porch, he low, 'Minervy Ann,
+nex' time don't be so dam good to 'er.'  I wuz doin' some snifflin'
+myse'f 'bout dat time, an' I ain't keerin' what I say, so I stop an'
+flung back at 'im, '_I'll be des es dam good ter 'er ez I please--I'm
+free_!'  Well, suh, stidder hittin' me, Marse Tumlin bust out laughin',
+an' long atter dat he'd laugh eve'y time he look at me, des like sump'n
+wuz ticklin' 'im mighty nigh ter death.
+
+"I 'speck he must er tol' 'bout dat cussin' part, bekaze folks 'roun'
+here done got de idee dat I'm a sassy an' bad-tempered 'oman.  Ef I had
+ter work fer my livin', suh, I boun' you I'd be a long time findin' a
+place.  Atter dat, Hamp, he got in de Legislatur', an' it sho' wuz a
+money-makin' place.  Den we had eve'ything we wanted, an' mo' too, but
+bimeby de Legislatur' gun out, an' den dar we wuz, flat ez flounders,
+an' de white folks don't want ter hire Hamp des kaze he been ter de
+Legislatur'; but he got back in de liberty stable atter so long a time.
+Yit 'twa'n't what you may call livin'.
+
+"All dat time, I hear Marse Tumlin talkin' ter Miss Vallie 'bout what
+he call his wil' lan'.  He say he got two thousan' acres down dar in de
+wiregrass, an' ef he kin sell it, he be mighty glad ter do so.  Well,
+suh, one day, long to'rds night, a two-hoss waggin driv' in at de side
+gate an' come in de back-yard.  Ol' Ben Sadler wuz drivin', an' he low,
+'Heyo, Minervy Ann, whar you want deze goods drapped at?'  I say,
+'Hello yo'se'f, ef you wanter hello.  What you got dar, an' who do it
+'blong ter?'  He low, 'Hit's goods fer Major Tumlin Perdue, an' whar
+does you want um drapped at?'  Well, suh, I ain't know what ter say,
+but I run'd an' ax'd Miss Vallie, an' she say put um out anywheres
+'roun' dar, kaze she dunner nothin' 'bout um.  So ol' Ben Sadler, he
+put um out, an' when I come ter look at um, dey wuz a bairl er sump'n,
+an' a kaig er sump'n, an' a box er sump'n.  De bairl shuck like it
+mought be lasses, an' de kaig shuck like it mought be dram, an' de box
+hefted like it mought be terbarker.  An', sho' 'nuff, dat what dey
+wuz--a bairl er sorghum syr'p, an' a kaig er peach brandy, an' a box er
+plug terbarker.
+
+"I say right den, an' Miss Vallie 'll tell you de same, dat Marse
+Tumlin done gone an' swap off all his wil' lan', but Miss Vallie, she
+say no; he won't never think er seen a thing; but, bless yo' soul, suh,
+she wa'n't nothin' but a school-gal, you may say, an' she ain't know no
+mo' 'bout men folks dan what a weasel do.  An den, right 'pon top er
+dat, here come a nigger boy leadin' a bob-tail hoss.  When I see dat, I
+dez good ez know'd dat de wil' lan' done been swap off, bekaze Marse
+Tumlin ain't got nothin' fer ter buy all dem things wid, an' I tell you
+right now, suh, I wuz rank mad, kase what we want wid any ol' bob-tail
+hoss?  De sorghum mought do, an' de dram kin be put up wid, an' de
+terbarker got some comfort in it, but what de name er goodness we gwine
+ter do wid dat ol' hoss, when we ain't got hardly 'nuff vittles fer ter
+feed ourse'f wid?  Dat what I ax Miss Vallie, an' she say right
+pine-blank she dunno.
+
+"Well, suh, it's de Lord's trufe, I wuz dat mad I dunner what I say,
+an' I wa'n't keerin' nudder, bekaze I know how we had ter pinch an'
+squeeze fer ter git long in dis house.  But I went 'bout gittin'
+supper, an' bimeby, Hamp, he come, an' I told 'im 'bout de ol' bob-tail
+hoss, an' he went out an' look at 'im.  Atter while, here he come back
+laughin', I say, 'You well ter laugh at dat ol' hoss.'  He, 'low, 'I
+ain't laughin' at de hoss.  I'm laughin' at you.  Gal, dat de finest
+hoss what ever put foot on de groun' in dis town.  Dat's Marse Paul
+Conant's trottin' hoss.  He'll fetch fi' hunder'd dollars any day.
+What he doin' here?'  I up an' tol' 'im all I know'd, an' he shuck his
+head; he low, 'Gal, you lay low.  Dey's sump'n n'er behime all dat.'
+
+"What Hamp say sorter make me put on my studyin'-cap; but when you come
+ter look at it, suh, dey wa'n't nothin' 'tall fer me ter study 'bout.
+All I had ter do wuz ter try ter fin' out what wuz behime it, an' let
+it go at dat.  When Marse Tumlin come home ter supper, I know'd sump'n
+wuz de matter wid 'im.  I know'd it by his looks, suh.  It's sorter wid
+folks like 'tis wid chillun.  Ef you keer 'sump'n 'bout um you'll watch
+der motions, and ef you watch der motions dey don't hatter tell you
+when sump'n de matter.  He come in so easy, suh, dat Miss Vallie ain't
+hear 'im, but I hear de do' screak, an' I know'd 'twuz him.  We wuz
+talkin' an' gwine on at a mighty rate, an' I know'd he done stop ter
+lis'n.
+
+"Miss Vallie, she low she 'speck somebody made 'im a present er dem ar
+things.  I say, 'Uh-uh, honey! don't you fool yo'se'f.  Nobody ain't
+gwine ter do dat.  Our folks ain't no mo' like dey useter wuz, dan
+crabapples is like plums.  Dey done come ter dat pass dat whatsomever
+dey gits der han's on dey 'fuse ter turn it loose.  All un um, 'cep'
+Marse Tumlin Perdue.  Dey ain't no tellin' what he gun fer all dat
+trash.  _Trash_!  Hit's wuss'n trash!  I wish you'd go out dar an' look
+at dat ol' bob-tail hoss.  Why dat ol' hoss wuz stove up long 'fo' de
+war.  By rights he ought ter be in de bone-yard dis ve'y minnit.  He
+won't be here two whole days 'fo' you'll see de buzzards lined up out
+dar on de back fence waitin', an' dey won't hatter wait long nudder.
+Ef dey sen' any corn here fer ter feed dat bag er bones wid, I'll parch
+it an' eat it myse'f 'fo' he shill have it.  Ef anybody 'speck I'm
+gwine ter 'ten' ter dat ol' frame, deyer 'speckin' wid de wrong specks,
+I tell you dat right now.'
+
+"All dis time Marse Tumlin wuz stan'in' out in de hall lis'nin'.  Miss
+Vallie talk mighty sweet 'bout it.  She say, 'Ef dey ain't nobody else
+ter 'ten' de hoss, reckin I kin do it.'  I low, 'My life er me, honey!
+de nex' news you know you'll be hirin' out ter de liberty stable.'
+
+"Well, suh, my talk 'gun ter git so hot dat Marse Tumlin des had ter
+make a fuss.  He fumbled wid de do' knob, an' den come walkin' down de
+hall, an' by dat time I wuz in de dinin'-room.  I walk mighty light,
+bekaze ef he say anything I want ter hear it.  You can't call it
+eave-drappin', suh; hit look ter me dat 'twuz ez much my business ez
+'twuz dern, an' I ain't never got dat idee out'n my head down ter dis
+day.
+
+"But Marse Tumlin ain't say nothin', 'cep' fer ter ax Miss Vallie ef
+she feelin' well, an' how eve'ything wuz, but de minnit I hear 'im open
+his mouf I know'd he had trouble on his min'.  I can't tell you how I
+know'd it, suh, but dar 'twuz.  Look like he tried to hide it, bekaze
+he tol' a whole lot of funny tales 'bout folks, an' 'twa'n't long befo'
+he had Miss Vallie laughin' fit ter kill.  But he ain't fool me, suh.
+
+"Bimeby, Miss Vallie, she come in de dinin'-room fer ter look atter
+settin' de table, bekaze fum a little gal she allers like ter have de
+dishes fix des so.  She wuz sorter hummin' a chune, like she ain't want
+ter talk, but I ain't let dat stan' in my way.
+
+"I low, 'I wish eve'ybody wuz like dat Mr. Paul Conant.  I bet you
+right now he been downtown dar all day makin' money han' over fist, des
+ez fast ez he can rake it in.  I know it, kaze I does his washin' and
+cleans up his room fer 'im.'
+
+"Miss Vallie say, 'Well, what uv it?  Money don't make 'im no better'n
+anybody else.'  I low, 'Hit don't make 'im no wuss; an' den, 'sides
+dat, he ain't gwine ter let nobody swindle 'im.'
+
+"By dat time, I hatter go out an' fetch supper in, an' 'tain't take me
+no time, bekaze I wuz des' achin' fer ter hear how Marse Tumlin come by
+dem ar contraptions an' contrivances.  An' I stayed in dar ter wait on
+de table, which it ain't need no waitin' on.
+
+"Atter while, I low, 'Marse Tumlin, I like ter forgot ter tell
+you--you' things done come.'  He say, 'What things, Minervy Ann?'  I
+low, 'Dem ar contraptions, an' dat ar bob-tail hoss.  He look mighty
+lean an' hongry, de hoss do, but Hamp he say dat's bekaze he's a
+high-bred hoss.  He say dem ar high-bred hosses won't take on no fat,
+no matter how much you feed urn.'
+
+"Marse Tumlin sorter drum on de table.  Atter while he low, 'Dey done
+come, is dey, Minervy Ann?'  I say, 'Yasser, dey er here right now.
+Hamp puts it down dat dat ar hoss oneer de gayliest creatur's what ever
+make a track in dis town.'
+
+"Well, suh, 'tain't no use ter tell you what else wuz said, kaze
+'twan't much.  I seed dat Marse Tumlin wan't gwine ter talk 'bout it,
+on account er bein' 'fear'd he'd hurt Miss Vallie's feelin's ef he tol'
+'er dat he done swap off all dat wil' lan' fer dem ar things an' dat ar
+bob-tail hoss.  Dat what he done.  Yasser!  I hear 'im sesso
+afterwards.  He swap it off ter Marse Paul Conant.
+
+"I thank my Lord it come out all right, but it come mighty nigh bein'
+de ruination er de fambly."
+
+"How was that?" I inquired.
+
+"Dat what I'm gwine ter tell you, suh.  Right atter supper dat night,
+Marse Tumlin say he got ter go down town fer ter see a man on some
+business, an' he ax me ef I won't stay in de house dar wid Miss Vallie.
+'Twa'n't no trouble ter me, bekaze I'd 'a' been on de place anyhow, an'
+so when I got de kitchen cleaned up an' de things put away, I went back
+in de house whar Miss Vallie wuz at Marse Tumlin wuz done gone.
+
+"Miss Vallie, she sot at de table doin' some kind er rufflin', an' I
+sot back ag'in de wall in one er dem ar high-back cheers.  What we said
+I'll never tell you, suh, bekaze I'm one er deze kinder folks what
+ain't no sooner set down an' git still dan dey goes ter noddin'.  Dat's
+me.  Set me down in a cheer, high-back er low-back, an' I'm done gone!
+I kin set here on de step an' keep des ez wide-'wake ez a skeer'd
+rabbit, but set me down in a cheer--well, suh, I'd like ter see anybody
+keep me 'wake when dat's de case.
+
+"Dar I sot in dat ar high-back cheer, Miss Vallie rufflin' an' flutin'
+sump'n, an' tryin' ter make me talk, an' my head rollin' 'roun' like my
+neck done broke.  Bimeby, _blam_! _blam_! come on de do'.  We got one
+er dem ar jinglin' bells now, suh, but in dem times we had a knocker,
+an' it soun' like de roof fallin' in.  I like ter jumped out'n my skin.
+Miss Vallie drapped her conflutements an' low, 'What in de worl'!  Aunt
+Minervy Ann, go ter de do.'
+
+"Well, suh, I went, but I ain't had no heart in it, bekaze I ain't know
+who it mought be, an' whar dey come fum, an' what dey want.  But I
+went.  'Twuz me er Miss Vallie, an' I wan't gwine ter let dat chile go,
+not dat time er night, dough 'twa'n't so mighty late.
+
+"I open de do' on de crack, I did, an' low, 'Who dat?' Somebody make
+answer, 'Is de Major in, Aunt Minervy Ann?' an' I know'd right den it
+wuz Marse Paul Conant.  An' it come over me dat he had sump'n ter do
+wid sendin' er dem contraptions, mo' 'speshually dat ar bob-tail hoss.
+An' den, too, suh, lots quicker'n I kin tell it, hit come over me dat
+he been axin' me lots 'bout Miss Vallie.  All come 'cross my min', suh,
+whiles I pullin' de do' open.
+
+"I low, I did, 'No, suh; Marse Tumlin gone down town fer ter look atter
+some business, but he sho ter come back terreckly.  Won't you come in,
+suh, an' wait fer 'im?'  He sorter flung his head back an' laugh, saft
+like, an' say, 'I don't keer ef I do, Aunt Minervy Ann.'
+
+"I low, 'Walk right in de parlor, suh, an' I'll make a light mos' 'fo'
+you kin turn 'roun'.  He come in, he did, an' I lit de lamp, an' time I
+lit 'er she 'gun ter smoke.  Well, suh, he tuck dat lamp, run de wick
+up an' down a time er two, an' dar she wuz, bright ez day.
+
+"When I went back in de room whar Miss Vallie wuz at, she wuz stan'in'
+dar lookin' skeer'd.  She say, 'Who dat?' I 'low, 'Hit's Marse Paul
+Conant, dat's who 'tis.'  She say, 'What he want?'  I low, 'Nothin'
+much; he does come a-courtin'.  Better jump up an' not keep 'im
+waitin'.'
+
+"Well, suh, you could 'a' knock'd 'er down wid a fedder.  She stood dar
+wid 'er han' on 'er th'oat takin' short breffs, des like a little bird
+does when it flies in de winder an' dunner how ter fly out ag'in.
+
+"Bimeby, she say, 'Aunt Minervy Ann, you ought ter be 'shame or
+yo'se'f!  I know dat man when I see 'im, an' dat's all.'  I low,
+'Honey, you know mighty well he ain't come callin'.  But he wanter see
+Marse Tumlin, an' dey ain't nothin' fer ter hender you fum gwine in dar
+an' makin' 'im feel at home whiles he waitin'.'  She sorter study
+awhile, an' den she blush up.  She say, 'I dunno whedder I ought ter.'
+
+"Well, suh, dat settled it.  I know'd by de way she look an' talk dat
+she don't need no mo' 'swadin'.  I say, 'All right, honey, do ez you
+please; but it's yo' house; you er de mist'iss; an' it'll look mighty
+funny ef dat young man got ter set in dar by hisse'f an' look at de
+wall whiles he waitin' fer Marse Tumlin.  I dunner what he'll say, kaze
+I ain't never hear 'im talk 'bout nobody; but I know mighty well he'll
+do a heap er thinkin'.'
+
+"Des like I tell you, suh--she skipped 'roun' dar, an' flung on 'er
+Sunday frock, shuck out 'er curls, an' sorter fumble' 'roun' wid some
+ribbons, an' dar she wuz, lookin' des ez fine ez a fiddle, ef not
+finer.  Den she swep' inter de parlor, an', you mayn't blieve it, suh,
+but she mighty nigh tuck de man's breff 'way.  Mon, she wuz purty, an'
+she ain't do no mo' like deze eve'y-day gals dan nothin'.  When she
+start 'way fum me, she wuz a gal.  By de time she walk up de hall an'
+sweep in dat parlor, she wuz a grown 'oman.  De blush what she had on
+at fust stayed wid 'er an' look like 't wuz er natchual color, an' her
+eyes shine, suh, like she had fire in um.  I peeped at 'er, suh, fum
+behime de curtains in de settin'-room, an' I know what I'm talkin'
+'bout.  It's de Lord's trufe, suh, ef de men folks could tote derse'f
+like de wimmen, an' do one way whiles dey feelin' annuder way, dey
+wouldn't be no livin' in de worl'.  You take a school gal, suh, an' she
+kin fool de smartest man what ever trod shoe leather.  He may talk wid
+'er all day an' half de night, an' he never is ter fin' out what she
+thinkin' 'bout.  Sometimes de gals fools deyse'f, suh, but dat's mighty
+seldom.
+
+"I dunner what all dey say, kaze I ain't been in dar so mighty long
+'fo' I wuz nodding but I did hear Marse Paul say he des drapt in fer
+'pollygize 'bout a little joke he played on Marse Tumlin.  Miss Vallie
+ax what wuz de joke, an' he low dat Marse Tumlin wuz banterin' folks
+fer ter buy his wil' lan'; an' Marse Paul ax 'im what he take fer it,
+an' Marse Tumlin low he'll take anything what he can chaw, sop, er
+drink.  Dem wuz de words---chaw, sop, er drink.  Wid dat, Marse Paul
+say he'd gi' 'im a box er terbarker, a bairl er syr'p, an' a kaig er
+peach brandy an' th'ow in his buggy-hoss fer good medjer.  Marse Tomlin
+say 'done' an' dey shuck han's on it.  Dat what Marse Paul tol' Miss
+Vallie, an he 'low he des done it fer fun, kaze he done looked inter
+dat wil' lan', an' he low she's wuff a pile er money.
+
+"Well, suh, 'bout dat time, I 'gun ter nod, an' de fus news I know'd
+Miss Vallie wuz whackin' 'way on de peanner, an' it look like ter me
+she wuz des tryin' 'erse'f.  By dat time, dey wuz gettin' right chummy,
+an' so I des curl up on de flo', an' dream dat de peanner chunes wuz
+comin' out'n a bairl des like lasses.
+
+"When I waked up, Marse Paul Conant done gone, an' Marse Tumlin ain't
+come, an' Miss Vallie wuz settin' dar in de parlor lookin' up at de
+ceilin' like she got some mighty long thoughts.  Her color wuz still
+up.  I look at 'er an' laugh, an' she made a mouf at me, an' I say ter
+myse'f, 'Hey! sump'n de matter here, sho,' but I say out loud, 'Marse
+Paul Conant sho gwine ter ax me ef you ain't had a dram.'  She laugh
+an' say, 'What answer you gwine ter make?'  I low, 'I'll bow an' say,
+"No, suh; I'm de one dat drinks all de dram fer de fambly."'
+
+"Well, suh, dat chile sot in ter laughin', an' she laugh an' laugh twel
+she went inter highsterics.  She wuz keyed up too high, ez you mought
+say, an' dat's de way she come down agin.  Bimeby, Marse Tumlin come,
+an' Miss Vallie, she tol' 'm 'bout how Marse Paul done been dar; an' he
+sot dar, he did, an' hummed an' haw'd, an' done so funny dat, bimeby, I
+low, 'Well, folks, I'll hatter tell you good-night,' an' wid dat I went
+out."
+
+At this point Aunt Minervy leaned forward, clasped her hands over her
+knees, and shook her head.  When she took up the thread of her
+narrative, if it can be called such, the tone of her voice was more
+subdued, almost confidential, in fact.
+
+"Nex' mornin' wuz my wash-day, suh, an' 'bout ten o'clock, when I got
+ready, dey want no bluin' in de house an' mighty little soap.  I hunted
+high an' I hunted low, but no bluin' kin I fin'.  An' dat make me mad,
+bekaze ef I hatter go down town atter de bluin', my wash-day'll be
+broke inter.  But 'tain't no good fer ter git mad, bekaze I wuz bleeze
+ter go atter de bluin'.  So I tighten up my head-hankcher, an' flung a
+cape on my shoulders an' put out.
+
+"I 'speck you know how 'tis, suh.  You can't go down town but what
+you'll see nigger wimmen stan'in' out in de front yards lookin' over de
+palin's.  Dey all know'd me an' I know'd dem, an' de las' blessed one
+un um hatter hail me ez I go by, an' I hatter stop an' pass de time er
+day, kaze ef I'd 'a' whipt on by, dey'd 'a' said I wuz gwine back bofe
+on my church an' on my color.  I dunner how long dey kep' me, but time
+I got ter Proctor's sto', I know'd I'd been on de way too long.
+
+"I notice a crowd er men out dar, some settin' an' some stan'in', but I
+run'd in, I did, an' de young man what do de clerkin', he foller me in
+an' ax what I want.  I say I want a dime's wuff er bluin', an' fer ter
+please, suh, wrop it up des ez quick ez he kin.  I tuck notice dat
+while he wuz gittin' it out'n de box, he sorter stop like he lis'nin'
+an' den agin, whiles he had it in de scoop des ready fer ter drap it in
+de scales, he held his han' an' wait.  Den I know'd he wuz lis'nin'.
+
+"Dat makes me lis'n, an' den I hear Marse Tumlin talkin', an' time I
+hear 'im I know'd he wuz errytated.  Twa'n't bekaze he wuz talkin'
+loud, suh, but 'twuz bekaze he wuz talkin' level.  When he talk loud,
+he feelin' good.  When he talk low, an' one word soun' same ez anudder,
+den somebody better git out'n his way.  I lef' de counter an' step ter
+de do' fer ter see what de matter wuz betwix' um.
+
+"Well, suh, dar wuz Marse Tumlin stan'in' dar close ter Tom Ferryman.
+Marse Tumlin, low, 'Maybe de law done 'pinted you my gyardeen.  How you
+know I been swindled?' Tom Ferryman say, 'Bekaze I hear you say he
+bought yo' wil' lan' fer a little er nothin'.  He'll swindle you ef you
+trade wid 'im, an' you done trade wid 'im.'  Marse Tumlin low, 'Is Paul
+Conant ever swindle _you_?'  Tom Ferryman say, 'No, he ain't, an' ef he
+wuz ter I'd give 'im a kickin'.'  Marse Tumlin low, 'Well, you know you
+is a swindler, an' nobody ain't kick you.  How come dat?'  Tom Ferryman
+say, 'Ef you say I'm a swindler, you're a liar.'
+
+"Well, suh, de man ain't no sooner say dat dan _bang_! went Marse
+Tumlin's pistol, an' des ez it banged Marse Paul Conant run 'twix' um,
+an' de ball went right spang th'oo de collar-bone an' sorter sideways
+th'oo de pint er de shoulder-blade.  Marse Tumlin drapt his pistol an'
+cotch 'im ez he fell an' knelt down dar by 'im, an' all de time dat ar
+Tom Ferryman wuz stan'in' right over um wid his pistol in his han'.  I
+squall out, I did, 'Whyn't some er you white men take dat man pistol
+'way fum 'im?  Don't you see what he fixin' ter do?'
+
+"I run'd at 'im, an' he sorter flung back wid his arm, an' when he done
+dat somebody grab 'im fum behind.  All dat time Marse Tumlin wuz axin'
+Marse Paul Conant ef he hurt much.  I hear 'im say, 'I wouldn't 'a'
+done it fer de worl', Conant--not fer de worl'.'  Den de doctor, he
+come up, an' Marse Tumlin, he pester de man twel he hear 'im say,
+'Don't worry, Major; dis boy'll live ter be a older man dan you ever
+will.'  Den Marse Tumlin got his pistol an' hunt up an' down fer dat ar
+Tom Ferryman, but he done gone.  I seed 'im when he got on his hoss.
+
+"I say to Marse Tumlin, 'Ain't you des ez well ter fetch Marse Paul
+Conant home whar we all kin take keer uv 'im?'  He low, 'Dat's a
+_fack_.  Go home an' tell yo' Miss Vallie fer ter have de big room
+fixed up time we git dar wid 'im.'  I say, 'Humph!  I'll fix it myse'f;
+I know'd I ain't gwine ter let Miss Vallie do it.'
+
+"Well, suh, 'tain't no use fer ter tell yer de rest.  Dar's dat ar baby
+in dar, an' what mo' sign does you want ter show you dat it all turned
+out des like one er dem ol'-time tales?"
+
+
+
+
+A KENTUCKY CINDERELLA
+
+By F. HOPKINSON SMITH
+
+Copyright 1899 by F. Hopkinson Smith.
+
+
+I was bending over my easel, hard at work upon a full-length portrait
+of a young girl in a costume of fifty years ago, when the door of my
+studio opened softly and Aunt Chloe came in.
+
+"Good-mawnin', suh!  I didn' think you'd come to-day, bein' a Sunday,"
+she said, with a slight bend of her knees.  "I'll jes' sweep up a lil
+mite; doan' ye move, I won't 'sturb ye."
+
+Aunt Chloe had first opened my door a year before with a note from
+Marny, a brother brush, which began with "Here is an old Southern mammy
+who has seen better days; paint her if you can," and ended with, "Any
+way, give her a job."
+
+The bearer of the note was indeed the ideal mammy, even to the bandanna
+handkerchief bound about her head, and the capacious waist and ample
+bosom--the lullaby resting-place for many a child, white and black.  I
+had never seen a real one in the flesh before.  I had heard about them
+in my earlier days.  Daddy Billy, my father's body servant and my
+father's slave, who lived to be ninety-four, had told me of his own
+Aunt Mirey, who had died in the old days, but too far back for me to
+remember.  And I had listened, when a boy, to the traditions connected
+with the plantations of my ancestors,--of the Keziahs and Mammy
+Crouches and Mammy Janes,--but I had never looked into the eyes of one
+of the old school until I saw Aunt Chloe, nor had I ever fully realized
+how quaintly courteous and gentle one of them could be until, with an
+old-time manner, born of a training seldom found outside of the old
+Southern homes, she bent forward, spread her apron with both hands, and
+with a little backward dip had said as she left me that first day:
+"Thank ye, suh!  I'll come eve'y Sunday mawnin'.  I'll do my best to
+please ye, an' I specs I kin."
+
+I do not often work on Sunday, but my picture had been too long delayed
+waiting for a faded wedding dress worn once by the original when she
+was a bride, and which had only been found when two of her descendants
+had ransacked their respective garrets.
+
+"Mus' be mighty driv, suh," she said, "a workin' on de Sabbath day.
+Golly, but dat's a purty lady!" and she put down her pail.  "I see it
+las' Sunday when I come in, but she didn't had dem ruffles 'round her
+neck den dat you done gib her.  'Clar' to goodness, dat chile look like
+she was jes' a-gwine to speak."
+
+Aunt Chloe was leaning on her broom, her eyes scrutinizing the portrait.
+
+"Well, if dat doan' beat de lan'.  I ain't never seen none o' dem
+frocks since de ole times.  An' dem lil low shoes wid de ribbons
+crossed on de ankles!  She's de livin' pussonecation--she is so, for a
+fac'.  Uhm!  Uh!"  (It is difficult to convey this peculiar sound of
+complete approval in so many letters.)
+
+"Did you ever know anybody like her?" I asked.
+
+The old woman straightened her back, and for a moment her eyes looked
+into mine.  I had often tried to draw from her something of her earlier
+life, but she had always evaded my questions.  Marny had told me that
+his attempts had at first been equally disappointing.
+
+"Body as ole's me, suh, seen a plenty o' people."  Then her eyes sought
+the canvas again.
+
+After a moment's pause she said, as if to herself: "You's de real
+quality, chile, dat you is; eve'y spec an' spinch o' ye."
+
+I tried again.
+
+"Does it look like anybody you ever saw, Aunt Chloe?"
+
+"It do an' it don't," she answered critically.  "De feet is like hern,
+but de eyes ain't."
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Oh, Miss Nannie."  And she leaned again on her broom and looked down
+on the floor.
+
+I heaped up a little pile of pigments on one corner of my palette and
+flattened them for a high light on a fold in the satin gown.
+
+"Who was Miss Nannie?" I asked carelessly.  I was afraid the thread
+would break if I pulled too hard.
+
+"One o' my chillen, honey."  A peculiar softness came into her voice.
+
+"Tell me about her.  It will help me get her eyes right, so you can
+remember her better.  They don't look human enough to me anyhow" (this
+last to myself).  "Where did she live?"
+
+"Where dey all live---down in de big house.  She warn't Marse Henry's
+real chile, but she come o' de blood.  She didn't hab dem kind o' shoes
+on her footses when I fust see her, but she wore 'em when she lef' me.
+Dat she did."  Her voice rose suddenly and her eyes brightened.  "And
+dem ain't nothin' to de way dey shined.  I ain't never seen no satin
+slippers shine like dem slippers; dey was jes' ablaze!"
+
+I worked on in silence.  Marny had cautioned me not to be too curious.
+Some day she might open her heart and tell me wonderful stories of her
+earlier life, but I must not appear too anxious.  She had become rather
+suspicious of strangers since she had moved North and lost track of her
+own people, Marny had said.
+
+Aunt Chloe picked up her pail and began moving some easels into a far
+corner of my studio and piling the chairs in a heap.  This done, she
+stopped again and stood behind me, looking intently at the canvas over
+my shoulder.
+
+"My!  My! ain't dat de ve'y image of dat frock?  I kin see it now jes'
+as Miss Nannie come down de stairs.  But you got to put dat gold chain
+on it 'fore it gits to be de ve'y 'spress image.  I had it roun' my own
+neck once; I knew jes' how it looked."
+
+I laid down my palette, and picking up a piece of chalk asked her to
+describe it so that I could make an outline.
+
+"It was long an' heavy, an' it woun' roun' de neck twice an' hung down
+to de wais'.  An' dat watch on de end of it!  Well, I ain't seen none
+like dat one sence.  I 'clar' to ye it was jes' 's teeny as one o' dem
+lil biscuits I used to make for 'er when she come in de kitchen--an'
+she was dere most of de time.  Dey didn't care nuffin for her much.
+Let 'er go roun' barefoot half de time, an' her hair a-flyin'.  Only
+one good frock to her name, an' dat warn't nuffin but calico.  I used
+to wash dat many a time for her long 'fore she was outen her bed.
+Allus makes my blood bile to dis day whenever I think of de way dey
+treated dat chile.  But it didn't make no diff'ence what she had
+on--shoes or no shoes--her footses was dat lil.  An' purty!  Wid her
+big eyes an' her cheeks jes' 's fresh as dem rosewater roses dat I used
+to snip off for ole Sam to put on de table.  Oh! I tell ye, if ye could
+picter her like dat dey wouldn't be nobody clear from here to glory
+could come nigh her."
+
+Aunt Chloe's eyes were kindling with every word.  I remembered Marny's
+warning and kept stil.  I had abandoned the sketch of the chain as an
+unnecessary incentive, and had begun again with my palette knife,
+pottering away, nodding appreciatingly, and now and then putting a
+question to clear up some tangled situation as to dates and localities
+which her rambling talk had left unsettled.
+
+"Yes, suh, down in the blue grass country, near Lexin'ton, Kentucky,
+whar my ole master, Marse Henry Gordon, lived," she answered to my
+inquiry as to where this all happened.  "I used to go eve'y year to see
+him after de war was over, an' kep' it up till he died.  Dere warn't
+nobody like him den, an' dere ain't none now.  He warn't never spiteful
+to chillen, white or black.  Eve'ybody knowed dat.  I was a pickaninny
+myse'f, an' I belonged to him.  An' he ain't never laid a lick on me,
+an' he wouldn't let nobody else do 't nuther, 'cept my mammy.  I
+'members one time when Aunt Dinah made cake dat ole Sam--he war a heap
+younger den--couldn't put it on de table 'ca'se dere was a piece broke
+out'n it.  Sam he riz, an' Dinah she riz, an' after dey'd called each
+other all de names dey could lay dere tongues to, Miss Ann, my own fust
+mist'ess, come in an' she say dem chillen tuk dat cake, an' 't ain't
+nary one o' ye dat's 'sponsible.  'What's dis,' says Marse
+Henry--'chillen stealin' cake?  Send 'em here to me!'  When we all come
+in--dere was six or eight of us--he says, 'Eve'y one o' ye look me in
+de eye; now which one tuk it?'  I kep' lookin' away,--fust on de flo'
+an' den out de windy.  'Look at me,' he says agin.  'You ain't lookin',
+Clorindy.'  Den I cotched him watchin' me.  'Now you all go out,' he
+says, 'and de one dat's guilty kin come back agin.'  Den we all went
+out in de yard.  'You tell him,' says one.  'No, you tell him;' an'
+dat's de way it went on.  I knowed I was de wustest, for I opened de
+door o' de sideboard an' gin it to de others.  Den I thought, if I
+don't tell him mebbe he'll lick de whole passel on us, an' dat ain't
+right; but if I go tell him an' beg his 'umble pardon he might lemme
+go.  So I crep' 'round where he was a-settin' wid his book on his
+knee,"--Aunt Chloe was now moving stealthily behind me, her eyes fixed
+on her imaginary master, head down, one finger in her mouth,--"an' I
+say, 'Marse Henry!'  An' he look up an' say, 'Who's dat?'  An' I say,
+'Dat's Clorindy.'  An' he say, 'What you want?'  'Marse Henry, I come
+to tell ye I was hungry, an' I see de door open an' I shove it back an'
+tuk de piece o' cake, an' I thought maybe if I done tole ye you'd
+forgib me.'
+
+"'Den you is de ringleader,' he says, 'an' you tempted de other
+chillen?'  'Yes,' I says, 'I 'spec' so.'  'Well,' he says, lookin' down
+on de carpet, 'now dat you has perfessed an' beg pardon, you is good
+an' ready to pay 'tention to what I'm gwine to say.'  De other chillen
+had sneaked up an' was listenin'; dey 'spected to see me git it, though
+dere ain't nary one of 'em ever knowed him to strike 'em a lick.  Den
+he says: 'Dis here is a lil thing,--dis stealin' a cake; an' it's a big
+thing at de same time.  Miss Ann has been right smart put out 'bout it,
+an' I'm gwine to see dat it don't happen agin.  If you see a pin on de
+fl'or you wouldn't steal it,--you'd pick it up if you wanted it, an' it
+wouldn't be nuffin, 'cause somebody th'owed it away an' it was free to
+eve'body; but if you see a piece o' money on de fl'or, you knowed
+nobody didn't th'ow dat away, an' if you pick it up an' don't tell,
+dat's somethin' else--dat's stealin', 'cause you tuk somethin' dat
+somebody else has paid somethin' for an' dat belongs to him.  Now dis
+cake ain't o' much 'count, but it warn't yourn, an' you oughtn't to ha'
+tuk it.  If you'd asked yo'r mist'ess for it she'd gin you a piece.
+There ain't nuffin here you chillen doan' git when ye ask for it.'  I
+didn't say nuffin more.  I jes' waited for him to do anythin' he wanted
+to me.  Den he looks at de carpet for a long time an' he says:--
+
+"'I reckon you won't take no mo' cake 'thout askin' for it, Clorindy,
+an' you chillen kin go out an' play agin.'"
+
+The tears were now standing in her eyes.
+
+"Dat's what my ole master was, suh; I ain't never forgot it.  If he had
+beat me to death he couldn't 'a' done no mo' for me.  He jes' splained
+to me an' I ain't never forgot since."
+
+"Did your own mother find it out?" I asked.
+
+The tears were gone now; her face was radiant again at my question.
+
+"Dat she did, suh.  One o' de chillen done tole on me.  Mammy jes' made
+one grab as I run pas' de kitchen door, an' reached for a barrel stave,
+an' she fairly sot--me--afire!"
+
+Aunt Chloe was now holding her sides with laughter, fresh tears
+streaming down her cheeks.
+
+"But Marse Henry never knowed it.  Lawd, suh, dere ain't nobody round
+here like him, nor never was.  I kin 'member him now same as it was
+yesterday, wid his white hair, an' he a-settin' in his big chair.  It
+was de las' time I ever see him.  De big house was gone, an' de colored
+people was gone, an' he was dat po' he didn't know where de nex'
+moufful was a-comin' from.  I come out behind him so,"--Aunt Chloe made
+me her old master and my stool his rocking-chair,--"an' I pat him on
+the shoulder dis way, an' he say, 'Chloe, is dat you?  How is it yo'
+looks so comfble like?'  An' I say, 'It's you, Marse Henry; you done it
+all; yo' teachin' made me what I is, an' if you study about it you'll
+know it's so.  An' de others ain't no wus'.  Of all de colored people
+you owned, dere ain't nary one been hung, or been in de penitentiary,
+nor ain't knowed as liars.  Dat's de way you fotch us up.'
+
+"An' I love him yet, an' if he was a-livin' to-day I'd work for him an'
+take care of him if I went hungry myse'f.  De only fool thing Marster
+Henry ever done was a-marryin' dat widow woman for his second wife.
+Miss Nannie, dat looks a lil bit like dat chile you got dere before
+ye"--and she pointed to the canvas--"wouldn't a been sot on an' 'bused
+like she was but for her.  Dat woman warn't nuffin but a harf-strainer
+noway, if I do say it.  Eve'body knowed dat.  How Marse Henry Gordon
+come to marry her nobody don't know till dis day.  She warn't none o'
+our people.  Dey do say dat he met her up to Frankfort when he was in
+de Legislator, but I don't know if dat's so.  But she warn't nuffin,
+nohow."
+
+"Was Miss Nannie her child?" I asked, stepping back from my easel to
+get the better effect of my canvas.
+
+"No suh, dat she warn't!" with emphasis.  "She was Marse Henry's own
+sister's chile, she was.  Her people--Miss Nannie's--lived up in
+Indiany, an' dey was jes' 's po' as watermelon rinds, and when her
+mother died Marse Henry sent for her to come live wid him, 'cause he
+said Miss Rachel--dat was dat woman's own chile by her fust
+husband--was lonesome.  Dey was bofe about de one age,--fo'teen or
+fifteen years old,--but Lawd-a-massy!  Miss Rachel warn't lonesome
+'cept for what he couldn't git, an' she most broke her heart 'bout dat,
+much 's she could break it 'bout anything.
+
+"I remember de ve'y day Miss Nannie come.  I see her comin' down de
+road totin' a big ban'box, an' a carpet bag mos 's big 's herse'f.  Den
+she turned in de gate.  ''Fo' God,' I says to ole Sam, who was settin'
+de table for dinner, 'who's dis yere comin' in?'  Den I see her stop
+an' set de bundles down an' catch her bref, and den she come on agin.
+
+"'Dat's Marse Henry's niece,' he says.  'I heared de mistress say she
+was a-comin' one day dis week by de coach.'
+
+"I see right away dat dat woman was up to one of her tricks; she didn't
+'tend to let dat chile come no other way 'cept like a servant; she was
+dat dirt mean.
+
+"Oh, you needn't look, suh!  I ain't meanin' no onrespect, but I knowed
+dat woman when Marse Henry fust married her, an' she ain't never fooled
+me once.  Fust time she come into de house she walked plumb in de
+kitchen, where me an' old Sam an' ole Dinah was a-eaten our dinner, we
+setten at de table like we useter did, and she flung her head up in de
+air and she says: 'After dis when I come in I want you niggers to git
+up on yo' feet.'  Think o' dat, will ye?  Marse Henry never called nary
+one of us nigger since we was pickaninnies.  I knowed den she warn't
+'customed to nuthin'.  But I tell ye she never put on dem kind o' airs
+when Marse Henry was about.  No, suh.  She was always mighty sugar-like
+to him when he was home, but dere ain't no conniption she warn't up to
+when he couldn't hear of it.  She had purty nigh riz de roof when he
+done tell her dat Miss Nannie was a-comin' to live wid 'em, but she
+couldn't stand agin him, for warn't her only daughter, Miss Rachel,
+livin' on him, an' not only Miss Rachel, but lots mo' of her people
+where she come from?
+
+"Well, suh, as soon as ole Sam said what chile it was dat was a-comin'
+down de road I dropped my dishcloth an' I run out to meet 'er.
+
+"'Is you Miss Nannie?' I says.  'Gimme dat bag,' I says, 'an' dat box.'
+
+"'Yes,' she says, 'dat's me, an' ain't you Aunt Chloe what I heared so
+much about?'
+
+"Honey, you ain't never gwine to git de kind o' look on dat picter
+you's workin' on dere, suh, as sweet as dat chile's face when she said
+dat to me.  I loved her from dat fust minute I see her, an' I loved her
+ever since, jes' as I loved her mother befo' her.
+
+"When she got to de house, me a-totin' de things on behind, de mist'ess
+come out on de po'ch.
+
+"'Oh, dat's you, is it, Nannie?' she says.  'Well, Chloe'll tell ye
+where to go,' an' she went straight in de house agin.  Never kissed
+her, nor touched her, nor nuffin!
+
+"Ole Sam was bilin'.  He heard her say it, an' if he was alive he'd
+tell ye same as me.
+
+"'Where's she gwine to sleep?' I says, callin' after her; 'upstairs
+long wid Miss Rachel?'  I was gittin' hot myse'f, though I didn't say
+nuffin.
+
+"'No,' she says, flingin' up her head like a goat; 'my daughter needs
+all de room she's got.  You kin take her downstairs an' fix up a place
+for her longside o' you an' Dinah.' She was de old cook.
+
+"'Come long,' I says, 'Miss Nannie,' an' I dropped a curtsey same's if
+she was a princess.  An' so she was, an' Marse Henry's own eyes in her
+head, an' 'nough like him to be his own chile.  'I'll hab ev'ything
+ready for ye,' I says.  'You wait here an' take de air,' an' I got a
+chair an' sot her down on de po'ch, an' ole Sam brung her some cake,
+an' I went to git de room ready--de room offn de kitchen pantry, where
+dey puts de overseer's chillen when dey come to see him.
+
+"Purty soon Miss Rachel come down an' went up an' kissed her--dat is,
+Sam said so, though I ain't never seen her kiss her dat time nor no
+other time.  Miss Rachel an' de mist'ess was bofe split out o' de same
+piece o' kindlin', an' what one was agin t' other was agin--a blind man
+could see dat Miss Rachel never liked Miss Nannie from de fust, she was
+dat cross-grained and pernicketty.  No matter what Miss Nannie done to
+please her it warn't good 'nough for her.  Why, do you know, when de
+other chillen come over from de nex' plantation Miss Rachel wouldn't
+send for Miss Nannie to come in de parlor.  No, suh, dat she wouldn't!
+An' dey'd run off an' leave her, too, when dey was gwine picknickin',
+an' treat dat chile owdacious, sayin' she was po' white trash, an'
+charity chile, an' things like dat, till I would go an' tell Marse
+Henry 'bout it.  Den dere would be a 'ruction, an' Marse Henry'd blaze
+out, an' jes 's soon's he was off agin to Frankfort--an' he was dere
+mos' of de time, for he was one o' dese yere ole-timers dat dey
+couldn't git long widout at de Legislator--dey'd treat her wus'n ever.
+Soon's Dinah an' me see dat, we kep' Miss Nannie long wid us much as we
+could.  She'd eat wid 'em when dere warn't no company 'round, but dat
+was 'bout all."
+
+"Did they send her to school?" I asked, fearing she would again lose
+the thread.  My picture had a new meaning for me now that it looked
+like her heroine.
+
+"No, suh, dat dey didn't, 'cept to de schoolhouse at de cross-roads
+whar everybody's chillen went.  But dey sent Miss Rachel to a real
+highty-tighty school, dat dey did, down to Louisville.  Two winters she
+was dere, an' eve'y time when she come home for holiday times she had
+mo' airs dan when she went away.  Marse Henry wanted bofe chillen to
+go, but dat woman outdid him, an' she faced him up an' down dat dere
+warn't money 'nough for two, an' dat her daughter was de fittenest, an'
+all dat, an' he give in.  I didn't hear it, but ole Sam did, an' his
+han' shook so he mos' spilt de soup.  But law, honey, dat didn't make
+no diff'ence to Miss Nannie.  She'd go off by herse'f wid her books an'
+sit all day under de trees, an' sing to herse'f jes' like a bird, an'
+dey'd sing to her, an' all dat time her face was a-beamin' an' her hair
+shinin' like gold, an' she a-growin' taller, an' her eyes gittin'
+bigger an' bigger, an' brighter, an' her little footses white an'
+cunnin' as a rabbit's.
+
+"De only place whar she did go outside de big house was over to Mis'
+Morgan's, who lived on de nex' plantation.  Miss Morgan didn't hab no
+chillen of her own, an' she'd send for Miss Nannie to come an' keep her
+company, she was dat dead lonesome, an' dey was glad 'nough to let dat
+chile go so dey could git her out o' de house.  Ole Sam allers said
+dat, for he heared 'em talk at table an' knowed what was gwine on.
+
+"Purty soon long come de time when Miss Rachel done finish her
+eddication, an' she come back to de big house an' sot herse'f up to
+'ceive company.  She warn't bad lookin' in dem days, I mus' say, an' if
+dat woman's sperit hadn't 'a' been in her she might 'a' pulled through.
+But dere warn't no fetching up could stand agin dat blood.  Miss Rachel
+'d git dat ornery dat you could n't do nuffin wid her, jes' like her
+maw.  De fust real out-an'-out beau she had was Dr. Tom Boling.  He
+lived 'bout fo'teen miles out o' Lexin'ton on de big plantation, an'
+was de richest young man in our parts.  His paw had died 'bout two
+years befo' an' lef' him mo' money dan he could th'ow away, an' he'd
+jes' come back from Philadelphy, whar he'd been a-learnin' to be a
+doctor.  He met Miss Rachel at a party in Louisville, an' de fust
+Sunday she come home he driv over to see her.  If ye could 'a' seen de
+mist'ess when she see him comin' in de gate!  All in his ridin' boots
+an' his yaller breeches an' bottle-green coat, an' his servant a-ridin'
+behind to hold de horses.
+
+"Ole Sam an' me was a-watchin' de mist'ess peekin' th'ough de blind at
+him, her eyes a-blazin', an' Sam laughed so he had to stuff a napkin in
+his mouf to keep 'er from hearin' him.  Well, suh, dat went on all de
+summer.  Eve'y time he come de mist'ess 'd be dat sweet mos' make a
+body sick to see her, an' when he'd stay away she was dat pesky dere
+warn't no livin' wid her.  Of co'se dere was plenty mo' gemmen co'rting
+Miss Rachel, too, but none o' dem didn't count wid de mist'ess 'cept de
+doctor, 'cause he was rich, dat's all dere was to 't, 'cause he was
+rich.  I tell ye ole Sam had to tell many a lie to the other gemmen,
+sayin' Miss Rachel was sick or somethin' else when she was a-waitin'
+for de doctor to come, and was feared he might meet some of 'em an' git
+skeered away.
+
+"Miss Nannie, she'd watch him, too, from behind de kitchen door, or
+scrunched down lookin' over de pantry winder sill, an' den she'd tell
+Dinah an' me what he did, an' how he got off his horse an' han' de
+reins to de boy, an' slap his boots wid his ridin' whip, like he was
+a-dustin' off a fly.  An' she'd act it all out for me an' Dinah, an'
+slap her own frock, an' den she'd laugh fit to kill herse'f an' dance
+all 'round de kitchen.  Would yo' believe it?  No! dere ain't nobody 'd
+believe it.  Dey never asked her to come in once while he was in de
+parlor, an' dey never once tole him dat Miss Nannie was a-livin' on de
+top side o' de yearth!
+
+"Co'se people 'gin to talk, an' ev'ybody said dat Dr. Boling was
+gittin' nighest de coon, an' dat fust thing dey'd know dere would be a
+weddin' in de Gordon fambly.  An' den agin dere was plenty mo' people
+said he was only passin' de time wid Miss Rachel, an' dat he come to
+see Marse Henry to talk pol'tics.
+
+"Well, one day, suh, I was a-standin' in de door an' I see him come in
+a-foot, widout his horse an' servant, an' step up on de po'ch quick an'
+rap at de do', like he say to himse'f, 'Lemme in; I'm in a hurry; I got
+somethin' on my mind.'  Ole Sam was jes' a-gwine to open de do' for him
+when Miss Nannie come a-runnin' in de kitchen from de yard, her cheeks
+like de roses, her hair a-flyin', an' her big hat hangin' to a string
+down her back.  I gin Sam one look an' he stopped, an' I says to Miss
+Nannie, 'Run, honey,' I says, 'an' open de do' for ole Sam; I spec',' I
+says, 'it's one o' dem peddlers.'
+
+"If you could 'a' seen dat chile's face when she come back!"
+
+Aunt Chloe's hands were now waving above her head, her mouth wide open
+in her merriment, every tooth shining.
+
+"She was white one minute an' red as a beet the nex'.  'Oh, Aunt Chloe,
+what did you let me go for?' she says.  'Oh!  I wouldn't 'a' let him
+see me like dis for anythin' in de wo'ld.  Oh, I'm dat put out.'
+
+"'What did he say to ye, honey?' I says.
+
+"'He didn't say nuffin; he jes' look at me an' say he beg my pardon,
+an' was Miss Rachel in, an' den I said I'd run an' tell her, an' when I
+come downstairs agin he was a-standin' in de hall wid his eyes up de
+staircase, an' he never stopped lookin' at me till I come down.'
+
+"'Well, dat won't do you no harm, chile,' I says; 'a cat kin look at a
+king.'
+
+"Ole Sam was a-watchin' her, too, an' when she'd gone in her leetle
+room an' shet de do' Sam says, 'I'll lay if Marse Tom Boling had
+anythin' on his mind when he come here to-day it's mighty onsettled by
+dis time.'
+
+"Nex' time Dr. Tom Boling come he say to de mist'ess, 'Who's dat young
+lady,' he says, 'dat opened de door for me las' time I was here?  I
+hoped to see her agin.  Is she in?'
+
+"Den dey bofe cooked up some lie' bout her bein' over to Mis' Morgan's
+or somethin', an' as soon 's he was gone dey come down an' riz Sam for
+not 'tendin' de door an' lettin' dat ragged fly-away gal open it.  Den
+dey went for Miss Nannie till dey made her cry, an' she come to me, an'
+I took her in my lap an' comfo'ted her like I allers did.
+
+"De nex' time he come he says, 'I hear dat yo'r niece, Miss Nannie
+Barnes, is livin' wid you, an' dat she is ve'y 'sclusive.  I hope dat
+you'll 'suade her to come in de parlor,' he says.  Dem was his ve'y
+words.  Sam was a-standin' close to him as I am to you an' he heared
+him.
+
+"'She ain't yet in s'ciety,' de mist'ess says, 'an' she's dat wild dat
+we can't p'esent her.'
+
+"'Oh! is dat so?' he says.  'Is she in now?'
+
+"'No,' she says, 'she's over to Mis' Morgan's.'
+
+"Dat was a fac' dis time; she'd gone dat very mawnin'.  Den Miss Rachel
+come down, an' co'se Sam didn't hear no mo' 'cause he had to go out.
+Purty soon out de doctor come.  Dese visits, min' ye, was gittin'
+shorter an' shorter, though he do come as often, an' over he goes to
+Mis' Morgan's hisse'f.
+
+"Now I doan' know what he said to Miss Nannie, or what passed 'twixt
+'em, 'cause she didn't tell me.  Only dat she said he had come to see
+Mis' Morgan 'bout some land matters, an' dat Mis' Morgan interjuced
+'em, but nuffin mo'.  Lord bless dat chile!  An', suh, dat was de fust
+time she ever kep' anythin' from her ole mammy.  Dat made me mo' glad
+'n ever.  I knowed den dey was bofe hit.
+
+"But my lah', de fur begin to fly when de mist'ess an' Miss Rachel
+heared 'bout dat visit!
+
+"'What you mean by makin' eyes at Dr. Boling?  Don't you know he's good
+as 'gaged to my daughter?' de mist'ess said.  Dat was a lie, for he
+never said a word to Miss Rachel; ole Sam could tole you dat.  'Git out
+o' my house, you good-for-nothin' pauper, an' take yo' rags wid ye.'
+
+"I see right away de fat was in de fire.  Marse Henry warn't 'spected
+home till de nex' Sunday, an' so I tuk her over to Mis' Morgan, an' den
+I ups an' tells her everything dat woman had done to dat chile since de
+day she come.  An' when I'd done she tuk Miss Nannie by de han' an' she
+says:--
+
+"'You won't never want a home, chile, so long as I live.  Go back,
+Chloe, an' git her clo'es.'  But I didn't git 'em.  I knowed Marse
+Henry 'd raise de roof when he come, an' he did, bless yo' heart.  Went
+over hisse'f an' got her, an' brought her home, an' dat night when Dr.
+Boling come he made her sit down in de parlor, an' 'fo' he went home
+dat night de Doctor he say to Marse Henry, 'I want yo' permission,
+Mister Gordon, to pay my addresses to Miss Nannie, yo' niece.'  Sam was
+a-standing close as he could git to de door, an' he heard ev'y word.
+Now he ain't never said dat, mind ye, to Marse Henry 'bout Miss Rachel!
+An' dat's why I know dat he warn't hit unto death wid her.
+
+"Well, do you know, suh, dat dat woman was dat owdacious she wouldn't
+let 'em see each other after dat 'cept on de front po'ch.  Wouldn't let
+'em come in de house; make 'em do all dere co'rtin' on de steps an' out
+at de paster gate.  De doctor would rare an' pitch an' git white in de
+face at de scandlous way dat Miss Barnes was bein' treated, until Miss
+Nannie put bofe her leetle han's on his'n, soothin' like, an' den he'd
+grab 'em an' kiss 'em like he'd eat 'em up.  Sam cotched him at it, an'
+done tole me; an' den dey'd sa'nter off down de po'ch, sayin' it was
+too hot or too cool, or dat dey was lookin' for birds' nests in de
+po'ch vines, till dey'd git to de far end, where de mist'ess nor Sam
+nor nobody else couldn't hear what dey was a-sayin' an' a-whisperin',
+an' dere dey'd sit fer hours.
+
+"But I tell ye de doctor had a hard time a-gittin' her even when Marse
+Henry gin his consent.  An' he never would 'a' got her if Miss Rachel,
+jes' for spite, I spec', hadn't 'a' took up wid Colonel Todhunter's son
+dat was a-co'rtin' on her too, an' run off an' married him.  Den Miss
+Nannie knowed she was free to follow her own heart.
+
+"I tell you it'd 'a' made ye cry yo' eyes out, suh, to see dat chile
+try an' fix herse'f up to meet him de days an' nights she knowed he was
+comin', an' she wid jes' one white frock to her name.  An' we all felt
+jes' as bad as her.  Dinah would wash it an' I'd smooth her hair, an'
+ole Sam 'd git her a fresh rose to put in her neck.
+
+"Purty soon de weddin' day was 'pinted, an' me an' Dinah an' ole Sam
+'gin to wonder how dat chile was a-gwine to git clo'es to be married
+in.  Sam heared ole marster ask dat same question at de table, an' he
+see him gib de mist'ess de money to buy 'em for her, an' de mist'ess
+said dat she reckoned 'Miss Nannie's people would want de privlege o'
+dressin' her now dat she was a-gwine to marry dat wo'thless young
+doctor, Tom Boling, dat nobody wouldn't hab in de house, but dat if dey
+didn't she'd gin her some of Miss Rachel's clo'es, an' if dem warn't
+'nough den she'd spen' de money to de best advantage.'  Dem was her
+ve'y words.  Sam heared her say 'em.  I knowed dat meant dat de chile
+would go naked, for she wouldn't a-worn none o' Miss Rachel's rubbish,
+an' not a cent would she git o' de money.  So I got dat ole white frock
+out, an' Dinah found a white ribbon in a ole trunk in de garret, an'
+washed an' ironed it to tie 'round her waist, an' Miss Nannie come an'
+look at it, an' when she see it de tears riz up in her eyes.
+
+"'Doan' you cry, chile,' I says.  'He ain't lovin' ye for yo' clo'es,
+an' never did.  Fust time he see ye yo' was purty nigh barefoot.  It's
+you he wants, not yo' frocks, honey;' an' den de sun come out in her
+face an' her eyes dried up, an' she 'gin to smile an' sing like a robin
+after de rain.
+
+"Purty soon long come Chris'mas time, an' me an' ole Sam an' Dinah was
+a-watchin' out to see what Marse Tom Boling was gwine to gin his bride,
+fur she was purty nigh dat, as dey was to be married de week after
+Chris'mas.  Well, suh, de mawnin' 'fore Chris'mas come, an' den de
+arternoon come, an' den de night come, an' mos' ev'y hour somebody sent
+somethin' for Miss Rachel, an' yet not one scrap of nuffin big as a
+chink-a-pin come for Miss Nannie.  Dinah an' me was dat onresless dat
+we couldn't sleep.  Miss Nannie didn't say nuffin when she went to bed,
+but I see a little shadder creep over her face an' I knowed right away
+what hurted her.
+
+"Well, de nex' mawnin'--Chris'mas mawnin' dat was--ole Sam come
+a-bustin' in de kitchen do', a-hollerin' loud as he could holler"--Aunt
+Chloe was now rocking herself back and forth, clapping her hands as she
+talked--"dat dere was a trunk on de front po'ch for Miss Nannie dat was
+dat heavy it tuk fo' niggers to lif it.  I run, an' Dinah run, an' when
+we got to de trunk mos' all de niggers was thick 'round it as flies,
+an' Miss Nannie was standin' over it readin' a card wid her name on it
+an' a 'scription sayin' dat it was 'a Chris'mas gif, wid de compliments
+of a friend.'  But who dat friend was, whether it was Marse Henry, who
+sent it dat way so dat woman wouldn't tear his hair out; or whether
+Mis' Morgan sent it, dat hadn't mo'n 'nough money to live on; or
+whether some of her own kin in Indiany, dat was dirt po', stole de
+money an' sent it; or whether de young Dr. Tom Doling, who had mo'
+money dan all de banks in Lexin'ton, done did it, don't nobody know
+till dis day, 'cept me an' ole Sam, an' we ain't tellin'.
+
+"But, my soul alive, de insides of dat trunk took de bref clean out o'
+de mist'ess an' Miss Rachel.  Sam opened it, an' I tuk out de things.
+Honey! dere was a weddin' dress all white satin dat would stand
+alone,--jes' de ve'y mate of de one you got in dat picter 'fore
+ye,--an' a change'ble silk, dat heavy! an' a plaid one, an' eve'ything
+a young lady could git on her back from her skin out, an' a
+thousand-dollar watch an' chain.  I wore dat watch myse'f; Miss Nannie
+was standin' by me, a-clappin' her han's an' laughin', an' when dat
+watch an' chain came out she jes' th'owed de chain over my neck an'
+stuck de leetle watch in my bosom, an' says, 'Dere, you dear ole mammy,
+go look at you'se'f in de glass an' see how fine you is.'
+
+"De nex' week come de weddin'.  I'll never forgit dat weddin' to my
+dyin' day.  Marse Tom Boling driv in wid a coach an' four an' two
+outriders, an' de horses wore white ribbons on dere ears; an' de
+coachman had flowers in his coat mos' big as his head, an' dey whirled
+up in front of de po'ch, an' out he stepped in his blue coat an' brass
+buttons an' a yaller wais'coat,--yaller as a gourd,--an' his bell-crown
+hat in his han'.  She was a-waitin' for him wid dat white satin dress
+on, an' de chain 'round her neck, an' her lil footses tied up wid silk
+ribbons de ve'y match o' dem you got pictered, an' her face shinin'
+like a angel.  An' all de niggers was a-standin' 'roun' de po'ch, dere
+eyes out'n dere heads, an' Marse Henry was dere in his new clo'es
+lookin' so grand, an' Sam in his white gloves, an' me in a new head
+han'chief.
+
+"Eve'body was happy 'cept one.  Dat one was de mist'ess, standin' in de
+door.  She wouldn't come out to de coach where de horses was a-champin'
+de bits an' de froth a-droppin' on de groun', an' she wouldn't speak to
+Marse Tom.  She kep' back in de do'way.
+
+"Miss Rachel was dat mean she wouldn't come downstairs.
+
+"Miss Nannie gib Marse Tom Boling her han' an' look up in his face like
+a queen, an' den she kissed Marse Henry, an' whispered somethin' in his
+ear dat nobody didn't hear, only de tears gin to jump out an' roll down
+his cheeks, an' den she looked de mist'ess full in de face, an' 'thout
+a word dropped her a low curtsey.
+
+"I come de las'.  She looked at me for a minute wid her eyes
+a-swimmin', an' den she th'owed her arms roun' my neck an' hugged an'
+kissed me, an' den I see an arm slip 'roun' her wais' an' lif her in de
+coach.  Den de horses 'gin a plunge an' dey was off.
+
+"An' arter dat dey had five years--de happiest years dem two ever seen.
+I know, 'cause Marse Henry gin me to her, an' I lived wid 'em day in
+an' day out till dat baby come, an' den--"
+
+Aunt Chloe stopped and reached out her hand as if to steady herself.
+The tears were streaming down her cheeks.
+
+Then she advanced a step, fixed her eyes on the portrait, and in a
+voice broken with emotion, said:--
+
+"Honey, chile,--honey, chile,--is you tired a-waitin' for yo' ole
+mammy?  Keep a-watchin', honey--keep a-watchin'--It won't be long now
+'fore I come.  Keep a-watchin'."
+
+
+
+
+BY THE WATERS OF PARADISE
+
+By F. MARION CRAWFORD
+
+Copyright 1894 by G. P. Putnam's Sons.
+
+
+I
+
+I remember my childhood very distinctly.  I do not think that the fact
+argues a good memory, for I have never been clever at learning words by
+heart, in prose or rhyme; so that I believe my remembrance of events
+depends much more upon the events themselves than upon my possessing
+any special facility for recalling them.  Perhaps I am too imaginative,
+and the earliest impressions I received were of a kind to stimulate the
+imagination abnormally.  A long series of little misfortunes, so
+connected with each other as to suggest a sort of weird fatality, so
+worked upon my melancholy temperament when I was a boy that, before I
+was of age, I sincerely believed myself to be under a curse, and not
+only myself, but my whole family and every individual who bore my name.
+
+I was born in the old place where my father, and his father, and all
+his predecessors had been born, beyond the memory of man.  It is a very
+old house, and the greater part of it was originally a castle, strongly
+fortified, and surrounded by a steep moat supplied with abundant water
+from the hills by a hidden aqueduct.  Many of the fortifications have
+been destroyed, and the moat has been filled up.  The water from the
+aqueduct supplies great fountains, and runs down into huge oblong
+basins in the terraced gardens, one below the other, each surrounded by
+a broad pavement of marble between the water and the flower-beds.  The
+waste surplus finally escapes through an artificial grotto, some thirty
+yards long, into a stream, flowing down through the park to the meadows
+beyond, and thence to the distant river.  The buildings were extended a
+little and greatly altered more than two hundred years ago, in the time
+of Charles II., but since then little has been done to improve them,
+though they have been kept in fairly good repair, according to our
+fortunes.
+
+In the gardens there are terraces and huge hedges of box and evergreen,
+some of which used to be clipped into shapes of animals, in the Italian
+style.  I can remember when I was a lad how I used to try to make out
+what the trees were cut to represent, and how I used to appeal for
+explanations to Judith, my Welsh nurse.  She dealt in a strange
+mythology of her own, and peopled the gardens with griffins, dragons,
+good genii and bad, and filled my mind with them at the same time.  My
+nursery window afforded a view of the great fountains at the head of
+the upper basin, and on moonlight nights the Welshwoman would hold me
+up to the glass and bid me look at the mist and spray rising into
+mysterious shapes, moving mystically in the white light like living
+things.
+
+"It's the Woman of the Water," she used to say; and sometimes she would
+threaten that if I did not go to sleep the Woman of the Water would
+steal up to the high window and carry me away in her wet arms.
+
+[Illustration: F. Hopkinson Smith]
+
+The place was gloomy.  The broad basins of water and the tall evergreen
+hedges gave it a funereal look, and the damp-stained marble causeways
+by the pools might have been made of tombstones.  The gray and
+weather-beaten walls and towers without, the dark and massively
+furnished rooms within, the deep, mysterious recesses and the heavy
+curtains, all affected my spirits.  I was silent and sad from my
+childhood.  There was a great clock tower above, from which the hours
+rang dismally during the day, and tolled like a knell in the dead of
+night.  There was no light nor life in the house, for my mother was a
+helpless invalid, and my father had grown melancholy in his long task
+of caring for her.  He was a thin, dark man, with sad eyes; kind, I
+think, but silent and unhappy.  Next to my mother, I believe he loved
+me better than anything on earth, for he took immense pains and trouble
+in teaching me, and what he taught me I have never forgotten.  Perhaps
+it was his only amusement, and that may be the reason why I had no
+nursery governess or teacher of any kind while he lived.
+
+I used to be taken to see my mother every day, and sometimes twice a
+day, for an hour at a time.  Then I sat upon a little stool near her
+feet, and she would ask me what I had been doing, and what I wanted to
+do.  I dare say she saw already the seeds of a profound melancholy in
+my nature, for she looked at me always with a sad smile, and kissed me
+with a sigh when I was taken away.
+
+One night, when I was just six years old, I lay awake in the nursery.
+The door was not quite shut, and the Welsh nurse was sitting sewing in
+the next room.  Suddenly I heard her groan, and say in a strange voice,
+"One--two--one--two!"  I was frightened, and I jumped up and ran to the
+door, barefooted as I was.
+
+"What is it, Judith?" I cried, clinging to her skirts.  I can remember
+the look in her strange dark eyes as she answered:
+
+"One--two leaden coffins, fallen from the ceiling!" she crooned,
+working herself in her chair.  "One--two--a light coffin and a heavy
+coffin, falling to the floor!"
+
+Then she seemed to notice me, and she took me back to bed and sang me
+to sleep with a queer old Welsh song.
+
+I do not know how it was, but the impression got hold of me that she
+had meant that my father and mother were going to die very soon.  They
+died in the very room where she had been sitting that night.  It was a
+great room, my day nursery, full of sun when there was any; and when
+the days were dark it was the most cheerful place in the house.  My
+mother grew rapidly worse, and I was transferred to another part of the
+building to make place for her.  They thought my nursery was gayer for
+her, I suppose; but she could not live.  She was beautiful when she was
+dead, and I cried bitterly.
+
+"The light one, the light one--the heavy one to come," crooned the
+Welshwoman.  And she was right.  My father took the room after my
+mother was gone, and day by day he grew thinner and paler and sadder.
+
+"The heavy one, the heavy one--all of lead," moaned my nurse, one night
+in December, standing still, just as she was going to take away the
+light after putting me to bed.  Then she took me up again and wrapped
+me in a little gown, and led me away to my father's room.  She knocked,
+but no one answered.  She opened the door, and we found him in his easy
+chair before the fire, very white, quite dead.
+
+So I was alone with the Welshwoman till strange people came, and
+relations whom I had never seen; and then I heard them saying that I
+must be taken away to some more cheerful place.  They were kind people,
+and I will not believe that they were kind only because I was to be
+very rich when I grew to be a man.  The world never seemed to be a very
+bad place to me, nor all the people to be miserable sinners, even when
+I was most melancholy.  I do not remember that any one ever did me any
+great injustice, nor that I was ever oppressed or ill-treated in any
+way, even by the boys at school.  I was sad, I suppose, because my
+childhood was so gloomy, and, later, because I was unlucky in
+everything I undertook, till I finally believed I was pursued by fate,
+and I used to dream that the old Welsh nurse and the Woman of the Water
+between them had vowed to pursue me to my end.  But my natural
+disposition should have been cheerful, as I have often thought.
+
+Among the lads of my age I was never last, or even among the last, in
+anything; but I was never first.  If I trained for a race, I was sure
+to sprain my ankle on the day when I was to run.  If I pulled an oar
+with others, my oar was sure to break.  If I competed for a prize, some
+unforeseen accident prevented my winning it at the last moment.
+Nothing to which I put my hand succeeded, and I got the reputation of
+being unlucky, until my companions felt it was always safe to bet
+against me, no matter what the appearances might be.  I became
+discouraged and listless in everything.  I gave up the idea of
+competing for any distinction at the University, comforting myself with
+the thought that I could not fail in the examination for the ordinary
+degree.  The day before the examination began I fell ill; and when at
+last I recovered, after a narrow escape from death, I turned my back
+upon Oxford, and went down alone to visit the old place where I had
+been born, feeble in health and profoundly disgusted and discouraged.
+I was twenty-one years of age, master of myself and of my fortune; but
+so deeply had the long chain of small unlucky circumstances affected me
+that I thought seriously of shutting myself up from the world to live
+the life of a hermit and to die as soon as possible.  Death seemed the
+only cheerful possibility in my existence, and my thoughts soon dwelt
+upon it altogether.
+
+I had never shown any wish to return to my own home since I had been
+taken away as a little boy, and no one had ever pressed me to do so.
+The place had been kept in order after a fashion, and did not seem to
+have suffered during the fifteen years or more of my absence.  Nothing
+earthly could affect those old gray walls that had fought the elements
+for so many centuries.  The garden was more wild than I remembered it;
+the marble causeways about the pools looked more yellow and damp than
+of old, and the whole place at first looked smaller.  It was not until
+I had wandered about the house and grounds for many hours that I
+realized the huge size of the home where, I was to live in solitude.
+Then I began to delight in it, and my resolution to live alone grew
+stronger.
+
+The people had turned out to welcome me, of course, and I tried to
+recognize the changed faces of the old gardener and the old
+housekeeper, and to call them by name.  My old nurse I knew at once.
+She had grown very gray since she heard the coffins fall in the nursery
+fifteen years before, but her strange eyes were the same, and the look
+in them woke all my old memories.  She went over the house with me.
+
+"And how is the Woman of the Water?" I asked, trying to laugh a little.
+"Does she still play in the moonlight?"
+
+"She is hungry," answered the Welshwoman, in a low voice.
+
+"Hungry?  Then we will feed her."  I laughed.  But old Judith turned
+very pale, and looked at me strangely.
+
+"Feed her?  Ay--you will feed her well," she muttered, glancing behind
+her at the ancient housekeeper, who tottered after us with feeble steps
+through the halls and passages.
+
+I did not think much of her words.  She had always talked oddly, as
+Welshwomen will, and though I was very melancholy I am sure I was not
+superstitious, and I was certainly not timid.  Only, as in a far-off
+dream, I seemed to see her standing with the light in her hand and
+muttering, "The heavy one--all of lead," and then leading a little boy
+through the long corridors to see his father lying dead in a great easy
+chair before a smouldering fire.  So we went over the house, and I
+chose the rooms where I would live; and the servants I had brought with
+me ordered and arranged everything, and I had no more trouble.  I did
+not care what they did provided I was left in peace and was not
+expected to give directions; for I was more listless than ever, owing
+to the effects of my illness at college.
+
+I dined in solitary state, and the melancholy grandeur of the vast old
+dining-room pleased me.  Then I went to the room I had selected for my
+study, and sat down in a deep chair, under a bright light, to think, or
+to let my thoughts meander through labyrinths of their own choosing,
+utterly indifferent to the course they might take.
+
+The tall windows of the room opened to the level of the ground upon the
+terrace at the head of the garden.  It was in the end of July, and
+everything was open, for the weather was warm.  As I sat alone I heard
+the unceasing splash of the great fountains, and I fell to thinking of
+the Woman of the Water.  I rose and went out into the still night, and
+sat down upon a seat on the terrace, between two gigantic Italian
+flower-pots.  The air was deliciously soft and sweet with the smell of
+the flowers, and the garden was more congenial to me than the house.
+Sad people always like running water and the sound of it at night,
+though I cannot tell why.  I sat and listened in the gloom, for it was
+dark below, and the pale moon had not yet climbed over the hills in
+front of me, though all the air above was light with her rising beams.
+Slowly the white halo in the eastern sky ascended in an arch above the
+wooded crests, making the outlines of the mountains more intensely
+black by contrast, as though the head of some great white saint were
+rising from behind a screen in a vast cathedral, throwing misty glories
+from below.  I longed to see the moon herself, and I tried to reckon
+the seconds before she must appear.  Then she sprang up quickly, and in
+a moment more hung round and perfect in the sky.  I gazed at her, and
+then at the floating spray of the tall fountains, and down at the
+pools, where the waterlilies were rocking softly in their sleep on the
+velvet surface of the moonlit water.  Just then a great swan floated
+out silently into the midst of the basin, and wreathed his long neck,
+catching the water in his broad bill, and scattering showers of
+diamonds around him.
+
+Suddenly, as I gazed, something came between me and the light.  I
+looked up instantly.  Between me and the round disk of the moon rose a
+luminous face of a woman, with great strange eyes, and a woman's mouth,
+full and soft, but not smiling, hooded in black, staring at me as I sat
+still upon my bench.  She was close to me--so close that I could have
+touched her with my hand.  But I was transfixed and helpless.  She
+stood still for a moment, but her expression did not change.  Then she
+passed swiftly away, and my hair stood up on my head, while the cold
+breeze from her white dress was wafted to my temples as she moved.  The
+moonlight, shining through the tossing spray of the fountain, made
+traceries of shadow on the gleaming folds of her garments.  In an
+instant she was gone and I was alone.
+
+I was strangely shaken by the vision, and some time passed before I
+could rise to my feet, for I was still weak from my illness, and the
+sight I had seen would have startled any one.  I did not reason with
+myself, for I was certain that I had looked on the unearthly, and no
+argument could have destroyed that belief.  At last I got up and stood
+unsteadily, gazing in the direction in which I thought the face had
+gone; but there was nothing to be seen--nothing but the broad paths,
+the tall, dark evergreen hedges, the tossing water of the fountains and
+the smooth pool below.  I fell back upon the seat and recalled the face
+I had seen.  Strange to say, now that the first impression had passed,
+there was nothing startling in the recollection; on the contrary, I
+felt that I was fascinated by the face, and would give anything to see
+it again.  I could retrace the beautiful straight features, the long
+dark eyes, and the wonderful mouth most exactly in my mind, and when I
+had reconstructed every detail from memory I knew that the whole was
+beautiful, and that I should love a woman with such a face.
+
+"I wonder whether she is the Woman of the Water!" I said to myself.
+Then rising once more, I wandered down the garden, descending one short
+flight of steps after another from terrace to terrace by the edge of
+the marble basins, through the shadow and through the moonlight; and I
+crossed the water by the rustic bridge above the artificial grotto, and
+climbed slowly up again to the highest terrace by the other side.  The
+air seemed sweeter, and I was very calm, so that I think I smiled to
+myself as I walked, as though a new happiness had come to me.  The
+woman's face seemed always before me, and the thought of it gave me an
+unwonted thrill of pleasure, unlike anything I had ever felt before.
+
+I turned as I reached the house, and looked back upon the scene.  It
+had certainly changed in the short hour since I had come out, and my
+mood had changed with it.  Just like my luck, I thought, to fall in
+love with a ghost!  But in old times I would have sighed; and gone to
+bed more sad than ever, at such a melancholy conclusion.  To-night I
+felt happy, almost for the first time in my life.  The gloomy old study
+seemed cheerful when I went in.  The old pictures on the walls smiled
+at me, and I sat down in my deep chair with a new and delightful
+sensation that I was not alone.  The idea of having seen a ghost, and
+of feeling much the better for it, was so absurd that I laughed softly,
+as I took up one of the books I had brought with me and began to read.
+
+That impression did not wear off.  I slept peacefully, and in the
+morning I threw open my windows to the summer air and looked down at
+the garden, at the stretches of green and at the colored flower-beds,
+at the circling swallows and at the bright water.
+
+"A man might make a paradise of this place," I exclaimed.  "A man and a
+woman together!"
+
+From that day the old Castle no longer seemed gloomy, and I think I
+ceased to be sad; for some time, too, I began to take an interest in
+the place, and to try and make it more alive.  I avoided my old Welsh
+nurse, lest she should damp my humor with some dismal prophecy, and
+recall my old self by bringing back memories of my dismal childhood.
+But what I thought of most was the ghostly figure I had seen in the
+garden that first night after my arrival.  I went out every evening and
+wandered through the walks and paths; but, try as I might, I did not
+see my vision again.  At last, after many days, the memory grew more
+faint, and my old moody nature gradually overcame the temporary sense
+of lightness I had experienced.  The summer turned to autumn, and I
+grew restless.  It began to rain.  The dampness pervaded the gardens,
+and the outer halls smelled musty, like tombs; the gray sky oppressed
+me intolerably.  I left the place as it was and went abroad, determined
+to try anything which might possibly make a second break in the
+monotonous melancholy from which I suffered.
+
+
+II
+
+Most people would be struck by the utter insignificance of the small
+events which, after the death of my parents, influenced my life and
+made me unhappy.  The gruesome forebodings of a Welsh nurse, which
+chanced to be realized by an odd coincidence of events, should not seem
+enough to change the nature of a child and to direct the bent of his
+character in after years.  The little disappointments of schoolboy
+life, and the somewhat less childish ones of an uneventful and
+undistinguished academic career, should not have sufficed to turn me
+out at one-and-twenty-years of age a melancholic, listless idler.  Some
+weakness of my own character may have contributed to the result, but in
+a greater degree it was due to my having a reputation for bad luck.
+However, I will not try to analyze the causes of my state, for I should
+satisfy nobody, least of all myself.  Still less will I attempt to
+explain why I felt a temporary revival of my spirits after my adventure
+in the garden.  It is certain that I was in love with the face I had
+seen, and that I longed to see it again; that I gave up all hope of a
+second visitation, grew more sad than ever, packed up my traps, and
+finally went abroad.  But in my dreams I went back to my home, and it
+always appeared to me sunny and bright, as it had looked on that
+summer's morning after I had seen the woman by the fountain.
+
+I went to Paris.  I went farther, and wandered about Germany.  I tried
+to amuse myself, and I failed miserably.  With the aimless whims of an
+idle and useless man come all sorts of suggestions for good
+resolutions.  One day I made up my mind that I would go and bury myself
+in a German university for a time, and live simply like a poor student.
+I started with the intention of going to Leipzig, determined to stay
+there until some event should direct my life or change my humor, or
+make an end of me altogether.  The express train stopped at some
+station of which I did not know the name.  It was dusk on a winter's
+afternoon, and I peered through the thick glass from my seat.  Suddenly
+another train came gliding in from the opposite direction, and stopped
+alongside of ours.  I looked at the carriage which chanced to be
+abreast of mine, and idly read the black letters painted on a white
+board swinging from the brass handrail: Berlin--Cologne--Paris.  Then I
+looked up at the window above.  I started violently, and the cold
+perspiration broke out upon my forehead.  In the dim light, not six
+feet from where I sat, I saw the face of a woman, the face I loved, the
+straight, fine features, the strange eyes, the wonderful mouth, the
+pale skin.  Her head-dress was a dark veil which seemed to be tied
+about her head and passed over the shoulders under her chin.  As I
+threw down the window and knelt on the cushioned seat, leaning far out
+to get a better view, a long whistle screamed through the station,
+followed by a quick series of dull, clanking sounds; then there was a
+slight jerk, and my train moved on.  Luckily the window was narrow,
+being the one over the seat, beside the door, or I believe I would have
+jumped out of it then and there.  In an instant the speed increased,
+and I was being carried swiftly away in the opposite direction from the
+thing I loved.
+
+For a quarter of an hour I lay back in my place, stunned by the
+suddenness of the apparition.  At last one of the two other passengers,
+a large and gorgeous captain of the White Konigsberg Cuirassiers,
+civilly but firmly suggested that I might shut my window, as the
+evening was cold.  I did so, with an apology, and relapsed into
+silence.  The train ran swiftly on for a long time, and it was already
+beginning to slacken speed before entering another station, when I
+roused myself and made a sudden resolution.  As the carriage stopped
+before the brilliantly lighted platform, I seized my belongings,
+saluted my fellow-passengers, and got out, determined to take the first
+express back to Paris.
+
+This time the circumstances of the vision had been so natural that it
+did not strike me that there was anything unreal about the face, or
+about the woman to whom it belonged.  I did not try to explain to
+myself how the face, and the woman, could be travelling by a fast train
+from Berlin to Paris on a winter's afternoon, when both were in my mind
+indelibly associated with the moonlight and the fountains in my own
+English home.  I certainly would not have admitted that I had been
+mistaken in the dusk, attributing to what I had seen a resemblance to
+my former vision which did not really exist.  There was not the
+slightest doubt in my mind, and I was positively sure that I had again
+seen the face I loved.  I did not hesitate, and in a few hours I was on
+my way back to Paris.  I could not help reflecting on my ill luck.
+Wandering as I had been for many months, it might as easily have
+chanced that I should be travelling in the same train with that woman,
+instead of going the other way.  But my luck was destined to turn for a
+time.
+
+I searched Paris for several days.  I dined at the principal hotels; I
+went to the theatres; I rode in the Bois de Boulogne in the morning,
+and picked up an acquaintance, whom I forced to drive with me in the
+afternoon.  I went to mass at the Madeleine, and I attended the
+services at the English Church.  I hung about the Louvre and Notre
+Dame.  I went to Versailles.  I spent hours in parading the Rue de
+Rivoli, in the neighborhood of Meurice's corner, where foreigners pass
+and repass from morning till night.  At last I received an invitation
+to a reception at the English Embassy.  I went, and I found what I had
+sought so long.
+
+There she was, sitting by an old lady in gray satin and diamonds, who
+had a wrinkled but kindly face and keen gray eyes that seemed to take
+in everything they saw, with very little inclination to give much in
+return.  But I did not notice the chaperon.  I saw only the face that
+had haunted me for months, and in the excitement of the moment I walked
+quickly towards the pair, forgetting such a trifle as the necessity for
+an introduction.
+
+She was far more beautiful than I had thought, but I never doubted that
+it was she herself and no other.  Vision or no vision before, this was
+the reality, and I knew it.  Twice her hair had been covered, now at
+last I saw it, and the added beauty of its magnificence glorified the
+whole woman.  It was rich hair, fine and abundant, golden, with deep
+ruddy tints in it like red bronze spun fine.  There was no ornament in
+it, not a rose, not a thread of gold, and I felt that it needed nothing
+to enhance its splendor; nothing but her pale face, her dark strange
+eyes, and her heavy eyebrows.  I could see that she was slender too,
+but strong withal, as she sat there quietly gazing at the moving scene
+in the midst of the brilliant lights and the hum of perpetual
+conversation.
+
+I recollected the detail of introduction in time, and turned aside to
+look for my host.  I found him at last.  I begged him to present me to
+the two ladies, pointing them out to him at the same time.
+
+"Yes--uh--by all means--uh," replied his Excellency with a pleasant
+smile.  He evidently had no idea of my name, which was not to be
+wondered at.
+
+"I am Lord Cairngorm," I observed.
+
+"Oh--by all means," answered the Ambassador with the same hospitable
+smile.  "Yes--uh--the fact is, I must try and find out who they are;
+such lots of people, you know."
+
+"Oh, if you will present me, I will try and find out for you," said I,
+laughing.
+
+"Ah, yes--so kind of you--come along," said my host.  We threaded the
+crowd, and in a few minutes we stood before the two ladies.
+
+"'Lowmintrduce L'd Cairngorm," he said; then, adding quickly to me,
+"Come and dine to-morrow, won't you?" he glided away with his pleasant
+smile and disappeared in the crowd.
+
+I sat down beside the beautiful girl, conscious that the eyes of the
+duenna were upon me.
+
+"I think we have been very near meeting before," I remarked, by way of
+opening the conversation.
+
+My companion turned her eyes full upon me with an air of inquiry.  She
+evidently did not recall my face, if she had ever seen me.
+
+"Really--I cannot remember," she observed, in a low and musical voice.
+"When?"
+
+"In the first place, you came down from Berlin by the express ten days
+ago.  I was going the other way, and our carriages stopped opposite
+each other.  I saw you at the window."
+
+"Yes--we came that way, but I do not remember--"  She hesitated.
+
+"Secondly," I continued, "I was sitting alone in my garden last
+summer--near the end of July--do you remember?  You must have wandered
+in there through the park; you came up to the house and looked at me--"
+
+"Was that you?" she asked, in evident surprise.  Then she broke into a
+laugh.  "I told everybody I had seen a ghost; there had never been any
+Cairngorms in the place since the memory of man.  We left the next day,
+and never heard that you had come there; indeed, I did not know the
+castle belonged to you."
+
+"Where were you staying?" I asked
+
+"Where?  Why, with my aunt, where I always stay.  She is your neighbor,
+since it _is_ you."
+
+"I--beg your pardon--but then--is your aunt Lady Bluebell?  I did not
+quite catch--"
+
+"Don't be afraid.  She is amazingly deaf.  Yes.  She is the relict of
+my beloved uncle, the sixteenth or seventeenth Baron Bluebell--I forget
+exactly how many of them there have been.  And I--do you know who I
+am?"  She laughed, well knowing that I did not.
+
+"No," I answered frankly.  "I have not the least idea.  I asked to be
+introduced because I recognized you.  Perhaps--perhaps you are a Miss
+Bluebell?"
+
+"Considering that you are a neighbor, I will tell you who I am," she
+answered.  "No; I am of the tribe of Bluebells, but my name is Lammas,
+and I have been given to understand that I was christened Margaret.
+Being a floral family, they call me Daisy.  A dreadful American man
+once told me that my aunt was a Bluebell and that I was a
+Harebell--with two l's and an e--because my hair is so thick.  I warn
+you, so that you may avoid making such a bad pun."
+
+"Do I look like a man who makes puns?" I asked, being very conscious of
+my melancholy face and sad looks.
+
+Miss Lammas eyed me critically.
+
+"No; you have a mournful temperament.  I think I can trust you," she
+answered.  "Do you think you could communicate to my aunt the fact that
+you are a Cairngorm and a neighbor?  I am sure she would like to know."
+
+I leaned towards the old lady, inflating my lungs for a yell.  But Miss
+Lammas stopped me.
+
+"That is not of the slightest use," she remarked.  "You can write it on
+a bit of paper.  She is utterly deaf."
+
+"I have a pencil," I answered; "but I have no paper.  Would my cuff do,
+do you think?"
+
+"Oh, yes!" replied Miss Lammas, with alacrity; "men often do that."
+
+I wrote on my cuff: "Miss Lammas wishes me to explain that I am your
+neighbor, Cairngorm."  Then I held out my arm before the old lady's
+nose.  She seemed perfectly accustomed to the proceeding, put up her
+glasses, read the words, smiled, nodded, and addressed me in the
+unearthly voice peculiar to people who hear nothing.
+
+"I knew your grandfather very well," she said.  Then she smiled and
+nodded to me again, and to her niece, and relapsed into silence.
+
+"It is all right," remarked Miss Lammas.  "Aunt Bluebell knows she is
+deaf, and does not say much, like the parrot.  You see, she knew your
+grandfather.  How odd that we should be neighbors!  Why have we never
+met before?"
+
+"If you had told me you knew my grandfather when you appeared in the
+garden, I should not have been in the least surprised," I answered
+rather irrelevantly.  "I really thought you were the ghost of the old
+fountain.  How in the world did you come there at that hour?"
+
+"We were a large party and we went out for a walk.  Then we thought we
+should like to see what your park was like in the moonlight, and so we
+trespassed.  I got separated from the rest, and came upon you by
+accident, just as I was admiring the extremely ghostly look of your
+house, and wondering whether anybody would ever come and live there
+again.  It looks like the castle of Macbeth, or a scene from the opera.
+Do you know anybody here?"
+
+"Hardly a soul!  Do you?"
+
+"No.  Aunt Bluebell said it was our duty to come.  It is easy for her
+to go out; she does not bear the burden of the conversation."
+
+"I am sorry you find it a burden," said I.  "Shall I go away?"
+
+Miss Lammas looked at me with a sudden gravity in her beautiful eyes,
+and there was a sort of hesitation about the lines of her full, soft
+mouth.
+
+"No," she said at last, quite simply, "don't go away.  We may like each
+other, if you stay a little longer--and we ought to, because we are
+neighbors in the country."
+
+I suppose I ought to have thought Miss Lammas a very odd girl.  There
+is, indeed, a sort of freemasonry between people who discover that they
+live near each other and that they ought to have known each other
+before.  But there was a sort of unexpected frankness and simplicity in
+the girl's amusing manner which would have struck any one else as being
+singular, to say the least of it.  To me, however, it all seemed
+natural enough.  I had dreamed of her face too long not to be utterly
+happy when I met her at last and could talk to her as much as I
+pleased.  To me, the man of ill luck in everything, the whole meeting
+seemed too good to be true.  I felt again that strange sensation of
+lightness which I had experienced after I had seen her face in the
+garden.  The great rooms seemed brighter, life seemed worth living; my
+sluggish, melancholy blood ran faster, and filled me with a new sense
+of strength.  I said to myself that without this woman I was but an
+imperfect being, but that with her I could accomplish everything to
+which I should set my hand.  Like the great Doctor, when he thought he
+had cheated Mephistopheles at last, I could have cried aloud to the
+fleeting moment, _Verweile dock, du bist so schoen_!
+
+"Are you always gay?" I asked, suddenly.  "How happy you must be!"
+
+"The days would sometimes seem very long if I were gloomy," she
+answered, thoughtfully.  "Yes, I think I find life very pleasant, and I
+tell it so."
+
+"How can you 'tell life' anything?" I inquired.  "If I could catch my
+life and talk to it, I would abuse it prodigiously, I assure you."
+
+"I dare say.  You have a melancholy temper.  You ought to live
+out-of-doors, dig potatoes; make hay, shoot, hunt, tumble into ditches,
+and come home muddy and hungry for dinner.  It would be much better for
+you than moping in your rook tower and hating everything."
+
+"It is rather lonely down there," I murmured, apologetically, feeling
+that Miss Lammas was quite right.
+
+"Then marry, and quarrel with your wife," she laughed.  "Anything is
+better than being alone."
+
+"I am a very peaceable person.  I never quarrel with anybody.  You can
+try it.  You will find it quite impossible."
+
+"Will you let me try?" she asked, still smiling.
+
+"By all means--especially if it is to be only a preliminary canter," I
+answered, rashly.
+
+"What do you mean?" she inquired, turning quickly upon me.
+
+"Oh--nothing.  You might try my paces with a view to quarrelling in the
+future.  I cannot imagine how you are going to do it.  You will have to
+resort to immediate and direct abuse."
+
+"No.  I will only say that if you do not like your life, it is your own
+fault.  How can a man of your age talk of being melancholy, or of the
+hollowness of existence?  Are you consumptive?  Are you subject to
+hereditary insanity?  Are you deaf, like Aunt Bluebell?  Are you poor,
+like--lots of people?  Have you been crossed in love?  Have you lost
+the world for a woman, or any particular woman for the sake of the
+world?  Are you feeble-minded, a cripple, an outcast?  Are
+you--repulsively ugly?"  She laughed again.  "Is there any reason in
+the world why you should not enjoy all you have got in life?"
+
+"No.  There is no reason whatever, except that I am dreadfully unlucky,
+especially in small things."
+
+"Then try big things, just for a change," suggested Miss Lammas.  "Try
+and get married, for instance, and see how it turns out."
+
+"If it turned out badly it would be rather serious."
+
+"Not half so serious as it is to abuse everything unreasonably.  If
+abuse is your particular talent, abuse something that ought to be
+abused.  Abuse the Conservatives--or the Liberals--it does not matter
+which, since they are always abusing each other.  Make yourself felt by
+other people.  You will like it, if they don't.  It will make a man of
+you.  Fill your mouth with pebbles, and howl at the sea, if you cannot
+do anything else.  It did Demosthenes no end of good, you know.  You
+will have the satisfaction of imitating a great man."
+
+"Really, Miss Lammas, I think the list of innocent exercises you
+propose--"
+
+"Very well--if you don't care for that sort of thing, care for some
+other sort of thing.  Care for something, or hate something.  Don't be
+idle.  Life is short, and though art may be long, plenty of noise
+answers nearly as well."
+
+"I do care for something--I mean, somebody," I said.
+
+"A woman?  Then marry her.  Don't hesitate."
+
+"I do not know whether she would marry me," I replied.  "I have never
+asked her."
+
+"Then ask her at once," answered Miss Lammas.  "I shall die happy if I
+feel I have persuaded a melancholy fellow-creature to rouse himself to
+action.  Ask her, by all means, and see what she says.  If she does not
+accept you at once, she may take you the next time.  Meanwhile, you
+will have entered for the race.  If you lose, there are the 'All-aged
+Trial Stakes,' and the 'Consolation Race.'"
+
+"And plenty of selling races into the bargain.  Shall I take you at
+your word, Miss Lammas?"
+
+"I hope you will," she answered.
+
+"Since you yourself advise me, I will.  Miss Lammas, will you do me the
+honor to marry me?"
+
+For the first time in my life the blood rushed to my head and my sight
+swam.  I cannot tell why I said it.  It would be useless to try to
+explain the extraordinary fascination the girl exercised over me, or
+the still more extraordinary feeling of intimacy with her which had
+grown in me during that half-hour.  Lonely, sad, unlucky as I had been
+all my life, I was certainly not timid, nor even shy.  But to propose
+to marry a woman after half an hour's acquaintance was a piece of
+madness of which I never believed myself capable, and of which I should
+never be capable again, could I be placed in the same situation.  It
+was as though my whole being had been changed in a moment by magic--by
+the white magic of her nature brought into contact with mine.  The
+blood sank back to my heart, and a moment later I found myself staring
+at her with anxious eyes.  To my amazement she was as calm as ever, but
+her beautiful mouth smiled, and there was a mischievous light in her
+dark-brown eyes.
+
+"Fairly caught," she answered.  "For an individual who pretends to be
+listless and sad you are not lacking in humor.  I had really not the
+least idea what you were going to say.  Wouldn't it be singularly
+awkward for you if I had said 'Yes'?  I never saw anybody begin to
+practise so sharply what was preached to him--with so very little loss
+of time!"
+
+"You probably never met a man who had dreamed of you for seven months
+before being introduced."
+
+"No, I never did," she answered gaily.  "It smacks of the romantic.
+Perhaps you are a romantic character, after all.  I should think you
+were if I believed you.  Very well; you have taken my advice, entered
+for a Stranger's Race and lost it.  Try the All-aged Trial Stakes.  You
+have another cuff, and a pencil.  Propose to Aunt Bluebell; she would
+dance with astonishment, and she might recover her hearing."
+
+
+III
+
+That was how I first asked Margaret Lammas to be my wife, and I will
+agree with any one who says I behaved very foolishly.  But I have not
+repented of it, and I never shall.  I have long ago understood that I
+was out of my mind that evening, but I think my temporary insanity on
+that occasion has had the effect of making me a saner man ever since.
+Her manner turned my head, for it was so different from what I had
+expected.  To hear this lovely creature, who, in my imagination, was a
+heroine of romance, if not of tragedy, talking familiarly and laughing
+readily was more than my equanimity could bear, and I lost my head as
+well as my heart.  But when I went back to England in the spring, I
+went to make certain arrangements at the Castle--certain changes and
+improvements which would be absolutely necessary.  I had won the race
+for which I had entered myself so rashly, and we were to be married in
+June.
+
+Whether the change was due to the orders I had left with the gardener
+and the rest of the servants, or to my own state of mind, I cannot
+tell.  At all events, the old place did not look the same to me when I
+opened my window on the morning after my arrival.  There were the gray
+walls below me and the gray turrets flanking the huge building; there
+were the fountains, the marble causeways, the smooth basins, the tall
+box hedges, the water-lilies, and the swans, just as of old.  But there
+was something else there, too--something in the air, in the water, and
+in the greenness that I did not recognize--a light over everything by
+which everything was transfigured.  The clock in the tower struck
+seven, and the strokes of the ancient bell sounded like a wedding
+chime.  The air sang with the thrilling treble of the song-birds, with
+the silvery music of the plashing water and the softer harmony of the
+leaves stirred by the fresh morning wind.  There was a smell of
+new-mown hay from the distant meadows, and of blooming roses from the
+beds below, wafted up together to my window.  I stood in the pure
+sunshine and drank the air and all the sounds and the odors that were
+in it; and I looked down at my garden and said: "It is Paradise, after
+all."  I think the men of old were right when they called heaven a
+garden, and Eden a garden inhabited by one man and one woman, the
+Earthly Paradise.
+
+I turned away, wondering what had become of the gloomy memories I had
+always associated with my home.  I tried to recall the impression of my
+nurse's horrible prophecy before the death of my parents--an impression
+which hitherto had been vivid enough.  I tried to remember my old self,
+my dejection, my listlessness, my bad luck, my petty disappointments.
+I endeavored to force myself to think as I used to think, if only to
+satisfy myself that I had not lost my individuality.  But I succeeded
+in none of these efforts.  I was a different man, a changed being,
+incapable of sorrow, of ill luck, or of sadness.  My life had been a
+dream, not evil, but infinitely gloomy and hopeless.  It was now a
+reality, full of hope, gladness, and all manner of good.  My home had
+been like a tomb; to-day it was Paradise.  My heart had been as though
+it had not existed; to-day it beat with strength and youth and the
+certainty of realized happiness.  I revelled in the beauty of the
+world, and called loveliness out of the future to enjoy it before time
+should bring it to me, as a traveller in the plains looks up to the
+mountains, and already tastes the cool air through the dust of the road.
+
+Here, I thought, we will live and live for years.  There we will sit by
+the fountain towards evening and in the deep moonlight.  Down those
+paths we will wander together.  On those benches we will rest and talk.
+Among those eastern hills we will ride through the soft twilight, and
+in the old house we will tell tales on winter nights, when the logs
+burn high, and the holly berries are red, and the old clock tolls out
+the dying year.  On these old steps, in these dark passages and stately
+rooms, there will one day be the sound of little pattering feet, and
+laughing child-voices will ring up to the vaults of the ancient hall.
+Those tiny footsteps shall not be slow and sad as mine were, nor shall
+the childish words be spoken in an awed whisper.  No gloomy Welshwoman
+shall people the dusky corners with weird horrors, nor utter horrid
+prophecies of death and ghastly things.  All shall be young, and fresh,
+and joyful, and happy, and we will turn the old luck again, and forget
+that there was ever any sadness.
+
+So I thought, as I looked out of my window that morning and for many
+mornings after that, and every day it all seemed more real than ever
+before, and much nearer.  But the old nurse looked at me askance, and
+muttered odd sayings about the Woman of the Water.  I cared little what
+she said, for I was far too happy.
+
+At last the time came near for the wedding.  Lady Bluebell and all the
+tribe of Bluebells, as Margaret called them, were at Bluebell Grange,
+for we had determined to be married in the country, and to come
+straight to the Castle afterwards.  We cared little for travelling, and
+not at all for a crowded ceremony at St George's in Hanover Square,
+with all the tiresome formalities afterwards.  I used to ride over to
+the Grange every day, and very often Margaret would come with her aunt
+and some of her consuls to the Castle.  I was suspicious of my own
+taste, and was only too glad to let her have her way about the
+alterations and improvements in our home.
+
+We were to be married on the thirtieth of July, and on the evening of
+the twenty-eighth Margaret drove over with some of the Bluebell party.
+In the long summer twilight we all went out into the garden.  Naturally
+enough, Margaret and I were left to ourselves, and we wandered down by
+the marble basins.
+
+"It is an odd coincidence," I said; "it was on this very night last
+year that I first saw you."
+
+"Considering that it is the month of July," answered Margaret with a
+laugh, "and that we have been here almost every day, I don't think the
+coincidence is so extraordinary, after all."
+
+"No, dear," said I, "I suppose not.  I don't know why it struck me.  We
+shall very likely be here a year from to-day, and a year from that.
+The odd thing, when I think of it, is that you should be here at all.
+But my luck has turned.  I ought not to think anything odd that happens
+now that I have you.  It is all sure to be good."
+
+"A slight change in your ideas since that remarkable performance of
+yours in Paris," said Margaret.  "Do you know, I thought you were the
+most extraordinary man I had ever met."
+
+"I thought you were the most charming woman I had ever seen.  I
+naturally did not want to lose any time in frivolities.  I took you at
+your word, I followed your advice, I asked you to marry me, and this is
+the delightful result--what's the matter?"
+
+Margaret had started suddenly, and her hand tightened on my arm.  An
+old woman was coming up the path, and was close to us before we saw
+her, for the moon had risen, and was shining full in our faces.  The
+woman turned out to be my old nurse.
+
+"It's only Judith, dear--don't be frightened," I said.  Then I spoke to
+the Welshwoman: "What are you about, Judith?  Have you been feeding the
+Woman of the Water?"
+
+"Ay--when the clock strikes, Willie--my Lord, I mean," muttered the old
+creature, drawing aside to let us pass, and fixing her strange eyes on
+Margaret's face.
+
+"What does she mean?" asked Margaret, when we had gone by.--"Nothing,
+darling.  The old thing is mildly crazy, but she is a good soul."
+
+We went on in silence for a few moments, and came to the rustic bridge
+just above the artificial grotto through which the water ran out into
+the park, dark and swift in its narrow channel.  We stopped, and leaned
+on the wooden rail.  The moon was now behind us, and shone full upon
+the long vista of basins and on the huge walls and towers of the Castle
+above.--"How proud you ought to be of such a grand old place!" said
+Margaret, softly.
+
+"It is yours now, darling," I answered.  "You have as good a right to
+love it as I--but I only love it because you are to live in it, dear."
+
+Her hand stole out and lay on mine, and we were both silent.  Just then
+the clock began to strike far off in the tower.  I
+counted--eight--nine--ten--eleven--I looked at my
+watch--twelve--thirteen--I laughed.  The bell went on striking.
+
+"The old clock has gone crazy, like Judith," I exclaimed.  Still it
+went on, note after note ringing out monotonously through the still
+air.  We leaned over the rail, instinctively looking in the direction
+whence the sound came.  On and on it went.  I counted nearly a hundred,
+out of sheer curiosity, for I understood that something had broken and
+that the thing was running itself down.
+
+Suddenly there was a crack as of breaking wood, a cry and a heavy
+splash, and I was alone, clinging to the broken end of the rail of the
+rustic bridge.
+
+I do not think I hesitated while my pulse beat twice.  I sprang clear
+of the bridge into the black rushing water, dived to the bottom, came
+up again with empty hands, turned and swam downward through the grotto
+in the thick darkness, plunging and diving at every stroke, striking my
+head and hands against jagged stones and sharp corners, clutching at
+last something in my fingers and dragging it up with all my might.  I
+spoke, I cried aloud, but there was no answer.  I was alone in the
+pitchy darkness with my burden, and the house was five hundred yards
+away.  Struggling still, I felt the ground beneath my feet, I saw a ray
+of moonlight--the grotto widened, and the deep water became a broad and
+shallow brook as I stumbled over the stones and at last laid Margaret's
+body on the bank in the park beyond.
+
+"Ay, Willie, as the clock struck!" said the voice of Judith, the Welsh
+nurse, as she bent down and looked at the white face.  The old woman
+must have turned back and followed us, seen the accident, and slipped
+out by the lower gate of the garden.  "Ay," she groaned, "you have fed
+the Woman of the Water this night, Willie, while the clock was
+striking."
+
+I scarcely heard her as I knelt beside the lifeless body of the woman I
+loved, chafing the wet white temples and gazing wildly into the
+wide-staring eyes.  I remember only the first returning look of
+consciousness, the first heaving breath, the first movement of those
+dear hands stretching out towards me.
+
+
+That is not much of a story, you say.  It is the story of my life.
+That is all.  It does not pretend to be anything else.  Old Judith says
+my luck turned on that summer's night when I was struggling in the
+water to save all that was worth living for.  A month later there was a
+stone bridge above the grotto, and Margaret and I stood on it and
+looked up at the moonlit Castle, as we had done once before, and as we
+have done many times since.  For all those things happened ten years
+ago last summer, and this is the tenth Christmas Eve we have spent
+together by the roaring logs in the old hall, talking of old times; and
+every year there are more old times to talk of.  There are curly-headed
+boys, too, with red-gold hair and dark-brown eyes like their mother's,
+and a little Margaret, with solemn black eyes like mine.  Why could not
+she look like her mother, too, as well as the rest of them?
+
+The world is very bright at this glorious Christmas time, and perhaps
+there is little use in calling up the sadness of long ago, unless it be
+to make the jolly fire-light seem more cheerful, the good wife's face
+look gladder, and to give the children's laughter a merrier ring, by
+contrast with all that is gone.  Perhaps, too, some sad faced,
+listless, melancholy youth, who feels that the world is very hollow,
+and that life is like a perpetual funeral service, just as I used to
+feel myself, may take courage from my example, and having found the
+woman of his heart, ask her to marry him after half an hour's
+acquaintance.  But, on the whole, I would not advise any man to marry,
+for the simple reason that no man will ever find a wife like mine, and
+being obliged to go farther, he will necessarily fare worse.  My wife
+has done miracles, but I will not assert that any other woman is able
+to follow her example.
+
+Margaret always said that the old place was beautiful, and that I ought
+to be proud of it.  I dare say she is right.  She has even more
+imagination than I.  But I have a good answer and a plain one, which is
+this,--that all the beauty of the Castle comes from her.  She has
+breathed upon it all, as the children blow upon the cold glass
+window-panes in winter; and as their warm breath crystallizes into
+landscapes from fairyland, full of exquisite shapes and traceries upon
+the blank surface, so her spirit has transformed every gray stone of
+the old towers, every ancient tree and hedge in the gardens, every
+thought in my once melancholy self.  All that was old is young, and all
+that was sad is glad, and I am the gladdest of all.  Whatever heaven
+may be, there is no earthly paradise without woman, nor is there
+anywhere a place so desolate, so dreary, so unutterably miserable that
+a woman cannot make it seem heaven to the man she loves and who loves
+her.
+
+I hear certain cynics laugh, and cry that all that has been said
+before.  Do not laugh, my good cynic.  You are too small a man to laugh
+at such a great thing as love.  Prayers have been said before now by
+many, and perhaps you say yours, too.  I do not think they lose
+anything by being repeated, nor you by repeating them.  You say that
+the world is bitter, and full of the Waters of Bitterness.  Love, and
+so live that you may be loved--the world will turn sweet for you, and
+you shall rest like me by the Waters of Paradise.
+
+
+
+
+A MEMORABLE NIGHT
+
+By ANNA KATHARINE GREEN
+
+Copyright 1891 by Anna Katharine Green.
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+I am a young physician of limited practice and great ambition.  At the
+time of the incidents I am about to relate, my office was in a
+respectable house in Twenty-fourth Street, New York City, and was
+shared, greatly to my own pleasure and convenience, by a clever young
+German whose acquaintance I had made in the hospital, and to whom I had
+become, in the one short year in which we had practised together, most
+unreasonably attached.  I say unreasonably, because it was a liking for
+which I could not account even to myself, as he was neither especially
+prepossessing in appearance nor gifted with any too great amiability of
+character.  He was, however, a brilliant theorist and an unquestionably
+trustworthy practitioner, and for these reasons probably I entertained
+for him a profound respect, and as I have already said a hearty and
+spontaneous affection.
+
+As our specialties were the same, and as, moreover, they were of a
+nature which did not call for night-work, we usually spent the evening
+together.  But once I failed to join him at the office, and it is of
+this night I have to tell.
+
+I had been over to Orange, for my heart was sore over the quarrel I had
+had with Dora, and I was resolved to make one final effort towards
+reconciliation.  But alas for my hopes, she was not at home; and, what
+was worse, I soon learned that she was going to sail the next morning
+for Europe.  This news, coming as it did without warning, affected me
+seriously, for I knew if she escaped from my influence at this time, I
+should certainly lose her forever; for the gentleman concerning whom we
+had quarrelled, was a much better match for her than I, and almost
+equally in love.  However, her father, who had always been my friend,
+did not look upon this same gentleman's advantages with as favorable an
+eye as she did, and when he heard I was in the house, he came hurrying
+into my presence, with excitement written in every line of his fine
+face.
+
+"Ah, Dick, my boy," he exclaimed joyfully, "how opportune this is!  I
+was wishing you would come, for, do you know, Appleby has taken passage
+on board the same steamer as Dora, and if he and she cross together,
+they will certainly come to an understanding, and that will not be fair
+to you, or pleasing to me; and I do not care who knows it!"
+
+I gave him one look and sank, quite overwhelmed, into the seat nearest
+me.  Appleby was the name of my rival, and I quite agreed with her
+father that the tete-a-tetes afforded by an ocean voyage would surely
+put an end to the hopes which I had so long and secretly cherished.
+
+"Does she know he is going?  Did she encourage him?" I stammered.
+
+But the old man answered genially: "Oh, she knows, but I cannot say
+anything positive about her having encouraged him.  The fact is, Dick,
+she still holds a soft place in her heart for you, and if you were
+going to be of the party--"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"I think you would come off conqueror yet."
+
+"Then I will be of the party," I cried.  "It is only six now, and I can
+be in New York by seven.  That gives me five hours before midnight,
+time enough in which to arrange my plans, see Richter, and make
+everything ready for sailing in the morning."
+
+"Dick, you are a trump!" exclaimed the gratified father.  "You have a
+spirit I like, and if Dora does not like it too, then I am mistaken in
+her good sense.  But can you leave your patients?"
+
+"Just now I have but one patient who is in anything like a critical
+condition," I replied, "and her case Richter understands almost as well
+as I do myself.  I will have to see her this evening of course and
+explain, but there is time for that if I go now.  The steamer sails at
+nine?"
+
+"Precisely."
+
+"Do not tell Dora that I expect to be there; let her be surprised.
+Dear girl, she is quite well, I hope?"
+
+"Yes, very well; only going over with her aunt to do some shopping.  A
+poor outlook for a struggling physician, you think.  Well, I don't know
+about that; she is just the kind of a girl to go from one extreme to
+another.  If she once loves you she will not care any longer about
+Paris fashions."
+
+"She shall love me," I cried, and left him in a great hurry, to catch
+the first train for Hoboken.
+
+It seemed wild, this scheme, but I determined to pursue it.  I loved
+Dora too much to lose her, and if three weeks' absence would procure me
+the happiness of my life, why should I hesitate to avail myself of the
+proffered opportunity.  I rode on air as the express I had taken shot
+from station to station, and by the time I had arrived at Christopher
+Street Ferry my plans were all laid and my time disposed of till
+midnight.
+
+It was therefore with no laggard step I hurried to my office, nor was
+it with any ordinary feelings of impatience that I found Richter out;
+for this was not his usual hour for absenting himself and I had much to
+tell him and many advices to give.  It was the first balk I had
+received and I was fuming over it, when I saw what looked like a
+package of books lying on the table before me, and though it was
+addressed to my partner, I was about to take it up, when I heard my
+name uttered in a tremulous tone, and turning, saw a man standing in
+the doorway, who, the moment I met his eye, advanced into the room and
+said:
+
+"O doctor, I have been waiting for you an hour.  Mrs. Warner has been
+taken very bad, sir, and she prays that you will not delay a moment
+before coming to her.  It is something serious I fear, and she may have
+died already, for she would have no one else but you, and it is now an
+hour since I left her."
+
+"And who are you?" I asked, for though I knew Mrs. Warner well--she is
+the patient to whom I have already referred--I did not know her
+messenger.
+
+"I am a servant in the house where she was taken ill."
+
+"Then she is not at home?"
+
+"No, sir, she is in Second Avenue."
+
+"I am very sorry," I began, "but I have not the time----"
+
+But he interrupted eagerly: "There is a carriage at the door; we
+thought you might not have your phaeton ready."
+
+I had noticed the carriage.  "Very well," said I.  "I will go, but
+first let me write a line----"
+
+"O sir," the man broke in pleadingly, "do not wait for anything.  She
+is really very bad, and I heard her calling for you as I ran out of the
+house."
+
+"She had her voice then?" I ventured, somewhat distrustful of the whole
+thing and yet not knowing how to refuse the man, especially as it was
+absolutely necessary for me to see Mrs. Warner that night and get her
+consent to my departure before I could think of making further plans.
+
+So, leaving word for Richter to be sure and wait for me if he came home
+before I did, I signified to Mrs. Warner's messenger that I was ready
+to go with him, and immediately took a seat in the carriage which had
+been provided for me.  The man at once jumped up on the box beside the
+driver, and before I could close the carriage door we were off, riding
+rapidly down Seventh Avenue.
+
+As we went the thought came, "What if Mrs. Warner will not let me off!"
+But I dismissed the fear at once, for this patient of mine is an
+extremely unselfish woman, and if she were not too ill to grasp the
+situation, would certainly sympathize with the strait I was in and
+consent to accept Richter's services in place of my own, especially as
+she knows and trusts him.
+
+When the carriage stopped it was already dark and I could distinguish
+little of the house I entered, save that it was large and old and did
+not look like an establishment where a man servant would be likely to
+be kept.
+
+"Is Mrs. Warner here?" I asked of the man who was slowly getting down
+from the box.
+
+"Yes, sir," he answered quickly; and I was about to ring the bell
+before me, when the door opened and a young German girl, courtesying
+slightly, welcomed me in, saying:
+
+"Mrs. Warner is upstairs, sir; in the front room, if you please."
+
+Not doubting her, but greatly astonished at the barren aspect of the
+place I was in, I stumbled up the faintly lighted stairs before me and
+entered the great front room.  It was empty, but through an open door
+at the other end I heard a voice saying: "He has come, madam;" and
+anxious to see my patient, whose presence in this desolate house I
+found it harder and harder to understand, I stepped into the room where
+she presumably lay.
+
+Alas! for my temerity in doing so; for no sooner had I crossed the
+threshold than the door by which I had entered closed with a click
+unlike any I had ever heard before, and when I turned to see what it
+meant, another click came from the opposite side of the room, and I
+perceived, with a benumbed sense of wonder, that the one person whose
+somewhat shadowy figure I had encountered on entering had vanished from
+the place, and that I was shut up alone in a room without visible means
+of egress.
+
+This was startling, and hard to believe at first, but after I had tried
+the door by which I had entered and found it securely locked, and then
+bounding to the other side of the room, tried the opposite one with the
+same result, I could not but acknowledge I was caught.  What did it
+mean?  Caught, and I was in haste, mad haste.  Filling the room with my
+cries, I shouted for help and a quick release, but my efforts were
+naturally fruitless, and after exhausting myself in vain I stood still
+and surveyed, with what equanimity was left me, the appearance of the
+dreary place in which I had thus suddenly become entrapped.
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+It was a small square room, and I shall not soon forget with what a
+foreboding shudder I observed that its four blank walls were literally
+unbroken by a single window, for this told me that I was in no
+communication with the street, and that it would be impossible for me
+to summon help from the outside world.  The single gas jet burning in a
+fixture hanging from the ceiling was the only relief given to the eye
+in the blank expanse of white wall that surrounded me; while as to
+furniture, the room could boast of nothing more than an old-fashioned
+black-walnut table and two chairs, the latter cushioned, but stiff in
+the back and generally dilapidated in appearance.  The only sign of
+comfort about me was a tray that stood on the table, containing a
+couple of bottles of wine and two glasses.  The bottles were full and
+the glasses clean, and to add to this appearance of hospitality a box
+of cigars rested invitingly near, which I could not fail to perceive,
+even at the first glance, were of the very best brand.
+
+Astonished at these tokens of consideration for my welfare, and
+confounded by the prospect which they offered of a lengthy stay in this
+place, I gave another great shout; but to no better purpose than
+before.  Not a voice answered, and not a stir was heard in the house.
+But there came from without the faint sound of suddenly moving wheels,
+as if the carriage which I had left standing before the door had slowly
+rolled away.  If this were so, then was I indeed a prisoner, while the
+moments so necessary to my plans, and perhaps to the securing of my
+whole future happiness, were flying by like the wind.  As I realized
+this, and my own utter helplessness, I fell into one of the chairs
+before me in a state of perfect despair.  Not that any fears for my
+life were disturbing me, though one in my situation might well question
+if he would ever again breathe the open air from which he had been so
+ingeniously lured.  I did not in that first moment of utter
+downheartedness so much as inquire the reason for the trick which had
+been played upon me.  No, my heart was full of Dora, and I was asking
+myself if I were destined to lose her after all, and that through no
+lack of effort on my part, but just because a party of thieves or
+blackmailers had thought fit to play a game with my liberty.
+
+It could not be; there must be some mistake about it; it was some great
+joke, or I was the victim of a dream, or suffering from some hideous
+nightmare.  Why, only a half hour before I was in my own office, among
+my own familiar belongings, and now----  But, alas, it was no delusion.
+Only four blank, whitewashed walls met my inquiring eyes, and though I
+knocked and knocked again upon the two doors which guarded me on either
+side, hollow echoes continued to be the only answer I received.
+
+Had the carriage then taken away the two persons I had seen in this
+house, and was I indeed alone in its great emptiness?  The thought made
+me desperate, but notwithstanding this I was resolved to continue my
+efforts, for I might be mistaken; there might yet be some being left
+who would yield to my entreaties, if they were backed by something
+substantial.
+
+Taking out my watch, I laid it on the table; it was just a quarter to
+eight.  Then I emptied my trousers pockets of whatever money they held,
+and when all was heaped up before me, I could count but twelve dollars,
+which, together with my studs and a seal ring which I wore, seemed a
+paltry pittance with which to barter for the liberty of which I had
+been robbed.  But it was all I had with me, and I was willing to part
+with it at once if only some one would unlock the door and let me go.
+But how to make known my wishes even if there was any one to listen to
+them?  I had already called in vain, and there was no bell--yes, there
+was; why had I not seen it before?  There was a bell and I sprang to
+ring it.  But just as my hand fell on the cord, I heard a gentle voice
+behind my back saying in good English, but with a strong foreign accent:
+
+"Put up your money, Mr. Atwater; we do not want your money, only your
+society.  Allow me to beg you to replace both watch and money."
+
+Wheeling about in my double surprise at the presence of this intruder
+and his unexpected acquaintance with my name, I encountered the smiling
+glance of a middle-aged man of genteel appearance and courteous
+manners.  He was bowing almost to the ground, and was, as I instantly
+detected, of German birth and education, a gentleman, and not a
+blackleg I had every reason to expect to see.
+
+"You have made a slight mistake," he was saying; "it is your society,
+only your society, that we want."
+
+Astonished at his appearance, and exceedingly irritated by his words, I
+stepped back as he offered me my watch, and bluntly cried:
+
+"If it is my society only that you want, you have certainly taken very
+strange means to procure it.  A thief could have set no neater trap,
+and if it is money you want, state your sum and let me go, for my time
+is valuable and my society likely to be unpleasant."
+
+He gave a shrug with his shoulders that in no wise interfered with his
+set smile.
+
+"You choose to be facetious," he observed.  "I have already remarked
+that we have no use for your money.  Will you sit down?  Here is some
+excellent wine, and if this brand of cigars does not suit you, I will
+send for another."
+
+"Send for the devil!" I cried, greatly exasperated.  "What do you mean
+by keeping me in this place against my will?  Open that door and let me
+out, or----"
+
+I was ready to spring and he saw it.  Smiling more atrociously than
+ever, he slipped behind the table, and before I could reach him, had
+quietly drawn a pistol, which he cocked before my eyes.
+
+"You are excited," he remarked, with a suavity that nearly drove me
+mad.  "Now excitement is no aid to good company, and I am determined
+that none but good company shall be in this room to-night.  So if you
+will be kind enough to calm yourself, Mr. Atwater, you and I may yet
+enjoy ourselves, but if not--" the action he made was significant, and
+I felt the cold sweat break out on my forehead through all the heat of
+my indignation.
+
+But I did not mean to show him that he had intimidated me.
+
+"Excuse me," said I, "and put down your pistol.  Though you are making
+me lose irredeemable time, I will try and control myself enough to give
+you an opportunity for explaining yourself.  Why have you entrapped me
+into this place?"
+
+"I have already told you," said he, gently laying the pistol before
+him, but within easy reach of his hand.
+
+"But that is preposterous," I began, fast losing my self-control again.
+"You do not know me, and if you did----"
+
+"Pardon me, you see I know your name."
+
+Yes, that was true, and the fact set me thinking.  How did he know my
+name?  I did not know him, nor did I know this house, or any reason for
+which I could have been beguiled into it.  Was I the victim of a
+conspiracy, or was the man mad?  Looking at him very earnestly, I
+declared:
+
+"My name is Atwater, and so far you are right, but in learning that
+much about me you must also have learned that I am neither rich nor
+influential, nor of any special value to a blackmailer.  Why choose me
+out then for--your society?  Why not choose some one who can--talk?"
+
+"I find your conversation very interesting."
+
+Baffled, exasperated almost beyond the power to restrain myself, I
+shook my fist in his face, notwithstanding I saw his hand fly to his
+pistol.
+
+"Let me go!" I shrieked.  "Let me go out of this place.  I have
+business, I tell you, important business which means everything to me,
+and which, if I do not attend to it to-night, will be lost to me
+forever.  Let me go, and I will so far reward you that I will speak to
+no one of what has taken place here to-night, but go my ways, forgetful
+of you, forgetful of this house, forgetful of all connected with it."
+
+"You are very good," was his quiet reply, "but this wine has to be
+drunk."  And he calmly poured out a glass, while I drew back in
+despair.  "You do not drink wine?" he queried, holding up the glass he
+had filled between himself and the light.  "It is a pity, for it is of
+most rare vintage.  But perhaps you smoke?"
+
+Sick and disgusted, I found a chair, and sat down in it.  If the man
+were crazy, there was certainly method in his madness.  Besides, he had
+not a crazy eye; there was calm calculation in it and not a little
+good-nature.  Did he simply want to detain me, and if so, did he have a
+motive it would pay me to fathom before I exerted myself further to
+insure my release?  Answering the wave he made me with his hand by
+reaching out for the bottle and filling myself a glass, I forced myself
+to speak more affably as I remarked:
+
+"If the wine must be drunk, we had better be about it, as you can not
+mean to detain me more than an hour, whatever reason you may have for
+wishing my society."
+
+He looked at me inquiringly before answering, then tossing off his
+glass, he remarked:
+
+"I am sorry, but in an hour a man can scarcely make the acquaintance of
+another man's exterior."
+
+"Then you mean----"
+
+"To know you thoroughly, if you will be so good; I may never have the
+opportunity again."
+
+He must be mad; nothing else but mania could account for such words and
+such actions; and yet, if mad, why was he allowed to enter my presence?
+The man who brought me here, the woman who received me at the door, had
+not been mad.
+
+"And I must stay here----" I began.
+
+"Till I am quite satisfied.  I am afraid that will take till morning."
+
+I gave a cry of despair, and then in my utter desperation spoke up to
+him as I would to a man of feeling:
+
+"You don't know what you are doing; you don't know what I shall suffer
+by any such cruel detention.  This night is not like other nights to
+me.  This is a special night in my life, and I need it, I need it, I
+tell you, to spend as I will.  The woman I love"--it seemed horrible to
+speak of her in this place, but I was wild at my helplessness, and
+madly hoped I might awake some answering chord in a breast which could
+not be void of all feeling or he would not have that benevolent look in
+his eye--"the woman I love," I repeated, "sails for Europe to-morrow.
+We have quarrelled, but she still cares for me, and if I can sail on
+the same steamer, we will yet make up and be happy."
+
+"At what time does this steamer start?"
+
+"At nine in the morning."
+
+"Well, you shall leave this house at eight.  If you go directly to the
+steamer you will be in time."
+
+"But--but," I panted, "I have made no arrangements.  I shall have to go
+to my lodgings, write letters, get money.  I ought to be there at this
+moment.  Have you no mercy on a man who never did you wrong, and only
+asks to quit you and forget the precious hour you have made him lose?"
+
+"I am sorry," he said, "it is certainly quite unfortunate, but the door
+will not be opened before eight.  There is really no one in the house
+to unlock it."
+
+"And do you mean to say," I cried aghast, "that you could not open that
+door if you would, that you are locked in here as well as I, and that I
+must remain here till morning, no matter how I feel or you feel?"
+
+"Will you not take a cigar?" he asked.
+
+Then I began to see how useless it was to struggle, and visions of Dora
+leaning on the steamer rail with that serpent whispering soft
+entreaties in her ear came rushing before me, till I could have wept in
+my jealous chagrin.
+
+"It is cruel, base, devilish," I began.  "If you had the excuse of
+wanting money, and took this method of wringing my all from me, I could
+have patience, but to entrap and keep me here for nothing, when my
+whole future happiness is trembling in the balance, is the work of a
+fiend and----"  I made a sudden pause, for a strange idea had struck me.
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+What if this man, these men and this woman, were in league with him
+whose rivalry I feared, and whom I had intended to supplant on the
+morrow.  It was a wild surmise, but was it any wilder than to believe I
+was held here for a mere whim, a freak, a joke, as this bowing, smiling
+man before me would have me believe?
+
+Rising in fresh excitement, I struck my hand on the table.  "You want
+to keep me from going on the steamer," I cried.  "That other wretch who
+loves her has paid you--"
+
+But that other wretch could not know that I was meditating any such
+unusual scheme, as following him without a full day's warning.  I
+thought of this even before I had finished my sentence, and did not
+need the blank astonishment in the face of the man before me to
+convince me that I had given utterance to a foolish accusation.  "It
+would have been some sort of a motive for your actions," I humbly
+added, as I sank back from my hostile attitude; "now you have none."
+
+I thought he bestowed upon me a look of quiet pity, but if so he soon
+hid it with his uplifted glass.
+
+"Forget the girl," said he; "I know of a dozen just as pretty."
+
+I was too indignant to answer.
+
+"Women are the bane of life," he now sententiously exclaimed.  "They
+are ever intruding themselves between a man and his comfort, as for
+instance just now between yourself and this good wine."
+
+I caught up the bottle in sheer desperation.
+
+"Don't talk of them," I cried, "and I will try and drink.  I almost
+wish there was poison in the glass.  My death here might bring
+punishment upon you."
+
+He shook his head, totally unmoved by my passion.
+
+"We deal punishment, not receive it.  It would not worry me in the
+least to leave you lying here upon the floor."
+
+I did not believe this, but I did not stop to weigh the question then;
+I was too much struck by a word he had used.
+
+"Deal punishment?" I repeated.  "Are you punishing me?  Is that why I
+am here?"
+
+He laughed and held out his glass to mine.
+
+"You enjoy being sarcastic," he observed.  "Well, it gives a spice to
+conversation, I own.  Talk is apt to be dull without it."
+
+For reply I struck the glass from his hand; it fell and shivered, and
+he looked for the moment really distressed.
+
+"I had rather you had struck me," he remarked, "for I have an answer
+for an injury like that; but for a broken glass----"  He sighed and
+looked dolefully at the pieces on the floor.
+
+Mortified and somewhat ashamed, I put down my own glass.
+
+"You should not have exasperated me," I cried, and walked away beyond
+temptation, to the other side of the room.
+
+His spirits had received a dampener, but in a few minutes he seized
+upon a cigar and began smoking; as the wreaths curled over his head he
+began to talk, and this time it was on subjects totally foreign to
+myself and even to himself.  It was good talk; that I recognized,
+though I hardly listened to what he said.  I was asking myself what
+time it had now got to be, and what was the meaning of my
+incarceration, till my brain became weary and I could scarcely
+distinguish the topic he discussed.  But he kept on for all my seeming,
+and indeed real, indifference, kept on hour after hour in a monologue
+he endeavored to make interesting, and which probably would have been
+so if the time and occasion had been fit for my enjoying it.  As it
+was, I had no ear for choicest phrases, his subtlest criticisms, or his
+most philosophic disquisitions.  I was wrapped up in self and my cruel
+disappointment, and when in a certain access of frenzy I leaped to my
+feet and took a look at the watch still lying on the table, and saw it
+was four o'clock in the morning, I gave a bound of final despair, and
+throwing myself on the floor, gave myself up to the heavy sleep that
+mercifully came to relieve me.
+
+I was roused by feeling a touch on my breast.  Clapping my hand to the
+spot where I had felt the intruding hand, I discovered that my watch
+had been returned to my pocket.  Drawing it out I first looked at it
+and then cast my eyes quickly about the room.  There was no one with
+me, and the doors stood open between me and the hall.  It was eight
+o'clock, as my watch had just told me.
+
+That I rushed from the house and took the shortest road to the steamer,
+goes without saying.  I could not cross the ocean with Dora, but I
+might yet see her and tell her how near I came to giving her my company
+on that long voyage which now would only serve to further the ends of
+my rival.  But when, after torturing delays on cars and ferry-boats,
+and incredible efforts to pierce a throng that was equally determined
+not to be pierced, I at last reached the wharf, it was to behold her,
+just as I had fancied in my wildest moments, leaning on a rail of the
+ship and listening, while she abstractedly waved her hand to some
+friends below, to the words of the man who had never looked so handsome
+to me or so odious as at this moment of his unconscious triumph.  Her
+father was near her, and from his eager attitude and rapidly wandering
+gaze I saw that he was watching for me.  At last he spied me struggling
+aboard, and immediately his face lighted up in a way which made me wish
+he had not thought it necessary to wait for my anticipated meeting with
+his daughter.
+
+"Ah, Dick, you are late," he began, effusively, as I put foot on deck.
+
+But I waved him back and went at once to Dora.
+
+"Forgive me, pardon me," I incoherently said, as her sweet eyes rose in
+startled pleasure to mine.  "I would have brought you flowers, but I
+meant to sail with you, Dora, I tried to--but wretches, villains,
+prevented it and--and----"
+
+"Oh, it does not matter," she said, and then blushed, probably because
+the words sounded unkind, "I mean----"
+
+But she could not say what she meant, for just then the bell rang for
+all visitors to leave, and her father came forward, evidently thinking
+all was right between us, smiled benignantly in her face, gave her a
+kiss and me a wink and disappeared in the crowd that was now rapidly
+going ashore.
+
+I felt that I must follow, but I gave her one look and one squeeze of
+the hand, and then as I saw her glances wander to his face, I groaned
+in spirit, stammered some words of choking sorrow and was gone, before
+her embarrassment would let her speak words, which I knew would only
+add to my grief and make this hasty parting unendurable.
+
+The look of amazement and chagrin with which her father met my
+reappearance on the dock can easily be imagined.
+
+"Why, Dick," he exclaimed, "aren't you going after all?  I thought I
+could rely on you.  Where's your plucky lad?  Scared off by a frown?  I
+wouldn't have believed it, Dick.  What if she does frown to-day; she
+will smile to-morrow."
+
+I shook my head; I could not tell him just then that it was not through
+any lack of pluck on my part that I had failed him.
+
+When I left the dock I went straight to a restaurant, for I was faint
+as well as miserable.  But my cup of coffee choked me and the rolls and
+eggs were more than I could face.  Rising impatiently, I went out.  Was
+any one more wretched than I that morning and could any one nourish a
+more bitter grievance?  As I strode towards my lodgings I chewed the
+cud of my disappointment till my wrongs loomed up like mountains and I
+was seized by a spirit of revenge.  Should I let such an interference
+as I had received go unpunished?  No, if the wretch who had detained me
+was not used to punishment he should receive a specimen of it now and
+from a man who was no longer a prisoner, and who once aroused did not
+easily forego his purposes.  Turning aside from my former destination,
+I went immediately to a police-station and when I had entered my
+complaint was astonished to see that all the officials had grouped
+about me and were listening to my words with the most startled interest.
+
+"Was the man who came for you a German?" one asked.
+
+I said "Yes."
+
+"And the man who stood guardian over you and entertained you with wine
+and cigars, was not he a German too?"
+
+I nodded acquiescence and they at once began to whisper together; then
+one of them advanced to me and said:
+
+"You have not been home, I understand; you had better come."
+
+Astonished by his manner I endeavored to inquire what he meant, but he
+drew me away, and not till we were within a stone's throw of my office
+did he say, "You must prepare yourself for a shock.  The impertinences
+you suffered from last night were unpleasant no doubt, but if you had
+been allowed to return home, you might not now be deploring them in
+comparative peace and safety."
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"That your partner was not as fortunate as yourself.  Look up at the
+house; what do you see there?"
+
+A crowd was what I saw first, but he made me look higher, and then I
+perceived that the windows of my room, of our room, were shattered and
+blackened and that part of the casement of one had been blown out.
+
+"A fire!" I shrieked.  "Poor Richter was smoking----"
+
+"No, he was not smoking.  He had no time for a smoke.  An infernal
+machine burst in that room last night and your friend was its wretched
+victim."
+
+I never knew why my friend's life was made a sacrifice to the revenge
+of his fellow-countrymen.  Though we had been intimate in the year we
+had been together, he had never talked to me of his country and I had
+never seen him in company with one of his own nation.  But that he was
+the victim of some political revenge was apparent, for though it proved
+impossible to find the man who had detained me, the house was found and
+ransacked, and amongst other secret things was discovered the model of
+the machine which had been introduced into our room, and which had
+proved so fatal to the man it was addressed to.  Why men who were so
+relentless in their purposes towards him should have taken such pains
+to keep me from sharing his fate, is one of those anomalies in human
+nature which now and then awake our astonishment.  If I had not lost
+Dora through my detention at their hands I should look back upon that
+evening with sensations of thankfulness.  As it is, I sometimes
+question if it would not have been better if they had let me take my
+chances.
+
+      *      *      *      *      *
+
+Have I lost Dora?  From a letter I received to-day I begin to think not.
+
+
+
+
+THE MAN FROM RED DOG
+
+By ALFRED HENRY LEWIS
+
+Copyright 1897 by Frederick A. Stokes Company.
+
+
+"Let me try one of them thar seegyars."
+
+It was the pleasant after-dinner hour, and I was on the veranda for a
+quiet smoke.  The Old Cattleman had just thrown down his paper; the
+half-light of the waning sun was a bit too dim for his eyes of seventy
+years.
+
+"Whenever I behold a seegyar," said the old fellow, as he puffed
+voluminously at the principe I passed over, "I thinks of what that
+witness says in the murder trial at Socorro.
+
+"'What was you-all doin' in camp yourse'f,' asked the jedge of this
+yere witness, 'the day of the killin'?'
+
+"'Which,' says the witness, oncrossin' his laigs an' lettin' on he
+ain't made bashful an' oneasy by so much attentions bein' shown him,
+'which I was a-eatin' of a few sardines, a-drinkin' of a few drinks of
+whiskey, a-smokin' of a few seegyars, an' a-romancin' 'round.'"
+
+After this abrupt, not to say ambiguous reminiscence, the Old Cattleman
+puffed contentedly a moment.
+
+"What murder trial was this you speak of?" I asked.  "Who had been
+killed?"
+
+"Now I don't reckon I ever does know who it is gets downed," he
+replied.  "This yere murder trial itse'f is news to me complete.  They
+was waggin' along with it when I trails into Socorro that time, an' I
+merely sa'nters over to the co't that a-way to hear what's goin' on.
+The jedge is sorter gettin' in on the play while I'm listenin'.
+
+"'What was the last words of this yere gent who's killed?' asked the
+jedge of this witness.
+
+"'As nearly as I keeps tabs, jedge,' says the witness, 'the dyin'
+statement of this person is: "Four aces to beat."
+
+"'Which if deceased had knowed Socorro like I does,' says the jedge,
+like he's commentin' to himse'f, 'he'd shorely realized that sech
+remarks is simply sooicidal.'"
+
+Again the Old Cattleman relapsed into silence and the smoke of the
+principe.
+
+"How did the trial come out?" I queried.  "Was the accused found
+guilty?"
+
+"Which the trial itse'f," he replied, "don't come out.  Thar's a passel
+of the boys who's come into town to see that jestice is done, an' bein'
+the round-up is goin' for'ard at the time, they nacherally feels
+hurried an' pressed for leesure.  They-alls oughter be back on the
+range with their cattle.  So the fifth day, when things is loiterin'
+along at the trial till it looks like the law has hobbles on, an' the
+word goes round it's goin' to be a week yet before the jury gets action
+on this miscreant who's bein' tried, the boys becomes plumb aggravated
+an' wearied out that a-way; an', kickin' in the door of the calaboose,
+they searches out the felon, swings him to a cottonwood not otherwise
+engaged, an' the right prevails.  Nacherally the trial bogs down right
+thar."
+
+After another season of silence and smoke, the Old Cattleman struck in
+again.
+
+"Speakin' of killin's, while I'm the last gent to go fosterin' idees of
+bloodshed, I'm some discouraged jest now by what I've been readin' in
+that paper about a dooel between some Eytalians, an' it shorely tries
+me the way them aliens plays boss.  It's obvious as stars on a cl'ar
+night, they never means fight a little bit.  I abhors dooels, an'
+cowers from the mere idee.  But, after all, business is business, an'
+when folks fights 'em the objects of the meetin' oughter be blood.  But
+the way these yere European shorthorns fixes it, a gent shorely runs a
+heap more resk of becomin' a angel abrupt, attendin' of a Texas
+cake-walk in a purely social way.
+
+"Do they ever fight dooels in the West?  Why, yes--some.  My mem'ry
+comes a-canterin' up right now with the details of an encounter I once
+beholds in Wolfville.  Thar ain't no time much throwed away with a
+dooel in the Southwest.  The people's mighty extemporaneous, an' don't
+go browsin' 'round none sendin' challenges in writin', an' that sort of
+flapdoodle.  When a gent notices the signs a-gettin' about right for
+him to go on the war-path, he picks out his meat, surges up, an'
+declares himse'f.  The victim, who is most likely a mighty serious an'
+experienced person, don't copper the play by makin' vain remarks, but
+brings his gatlin' into play surprisin'.  Next it's bang! bang! bang!
+mixed up with flashes an' white smoke, an' the dooel is over complete.
+The gent who still adorns our midst takes a drink on the house, while
+St. Peter onbars things a lot an' arranges gate an' seat checks with
+the other in the realms of light.  That's all thar is to it.  The tide
+of life ag'in flows onward to the eternal sea, an' nary ripple.
+
+"Oh, this yere Wolfville dooel!  Well, it's this a-way.  The day is
+blazin' hot, an' business layin' prone an' dead--jest blistered to
+death.  A passel of us is sorter pervadin' round the dance-hall, it
+bein' the biggest an' coolest store in camp.  A monte game is
+strugglin' for breath in a feeble, fitful way in a corner, an' some of
+us is a-watch'in'; an' some a-settin' 'round loose a-thinkin'; but all
+keepin mum an' still, 'cause it's so hot.
+
+"Jest then some gent on a hoss goes whoopin' up the street a-yellin'
+an' a-whirlin' the loop of his rope, an' allowin' generally he's havin'
+a mighty good time.
+
+"'Who's this yere toomultuous man on the hoss?' says Enright,
+a-regardin' of him in a displeased way from the door.
+
+"'I meets him up the street a minute back,' says Dan Boggs, 'an' he
+allows he's called "The Man from Red Dog."  He says he's took a day off
+to visit us, an' aims to lay waste the camp some before he goes back.'
+
+"About then the Red Dog man notes old Santa Rosa, who keeps the Mexican
+_baile_ hall, an' his old woman, Marie, a-fussin' with each other in
+front of the New York Store.  They's locked horns over a drink or
+something an' is powwowin' mighty onamiable.
+
+"'Whatever does this yere Mexican fam'ly mean,' says the Red Dog man,
+a-surveyin' of 'em plenty scornful, 'a-draggin' of their domestic
+brawls out yere to offend a sufferin' public for?  Whyever don't they
+stay in their wickeyup an' fight, an' not take to puttin' it all over
+the American race which ain't in the play' none an' don't thirst
+tharfor?  However, I unites an' reeconciles this divided household
+easy.'
+
+"With this the Red Dog man drops the loop of his lariat round the two
+contestants an' jumps his bronco up the street like it's come outen a
+gun.  Of course Santa Rosa an' Marie goes along on their heads
+permiscus.
+
+"They goes coastin' along ontil they gets pulled into a mesquite-bush,
+an' the rope slips offen the saddle, an' thar they be.  We-alls goes
+over from the dance-hall, extricatin' of 'em, an' final they rounds up
+mighty hapless an' weak, an' can only walk.  They shorely lose enough
+hide to make a pair of leggin's.
+
+"'Which I brings 'em together like twins,' says the Red Dog man, ridin'
+back for his rope.  'I offers two to one, no limit, they don't fight
+none whatever for a month.'
+
+"Which, as it shorely looks like he's right, no one takes him.  So the
+Red Dog man leaves his bluff a-hangin' an' goes into the dance-hall,
+a-givin' of it out cold an' clammy he meditates libatin'.
+
+"'All promenade to the bar,' yells the Red Dog man as he goes in.  'I'm
+a wolf, an' it's my night to howl.  Don't 'rouse me, barkeep, with the
+sight of merely one bottle; set 'em all up.  I'm some fastidious about
+my fire-water an' likes a chance to select.'
+
+"Well, we-alls takes our inspiration, an' the Red Dog man tucks his
+onder his belt an' then turns round to Enright.
+
+"'I takes it you're the old he-coon of this yere outfit?' says the Red
+Dog man, soopercilious-like.
+
+"'Which, if I ain't,' says Enright, 'it's plenty safe as a play to let
+your wisdom flow this a-way till the he-coon gets yere.'
+
+"'If thar's anythin',' says the Red Dog man, 'I turns from sick, it's
+voylence an' deevastation.  But I hears sech complaints constant of
+this yere camp of Wolfville, I takes my first idle day to ride over an'
+line things up.  Now yere I be, an' while I regrets it, I finds
+you-alls is a lawless, onregenerate set, a heap sight worse than
+roomer.  I now takes the notion--for I sees no other trail--that by
+next drink time I climbs into the saddle, throws my rope 'round this
+den of sin, an' removes it from the map.'
+
+"'Nacherally,' says Enright, some sarcastic, 'in makin' them schemes
+you ain't lookin' for no trouble whatever with a band of tarrapins like
+us.'
+
+"'None whatever,' says the Red Dog man, mighty confident.  'In thirty
+minutes I distributes this yere hamlet 'round in the landscape same as
+them Greasers; which feat becomin' hist'ry, I then canters back to Red
+Dog.'
+
+"'Well,' says Enright, 'it's plenty p'lite to let us know what's comin'
+this a-way.'
+
+"'Oh!  I ain't tellin' you none,' says the Red Dog man, 'I simply lets
+fly this hint, so any of you-alls as has got bric-a-brac he values
+speshul, he takes warnin' some an' packs it off all safe.'
+
+"It's about then when Cherokee Hall, who's lookin' on, shoulders in
+between Enright an' the Red Dog man, mighty positive.  Cherokee is a
+heap sot in his idees, an' I sees right off he's took a notion ag'in
+the Red Dog man.
+
+"'As you've got a lot of work cut out,' says Cherokee, eyein' the Red
+Dog man malignant, 's'pose we tips the canteen ag'in.'
+
+"'I shorely goes you,' says the Red Dog man.  'I drinks with friend,
+an' I drinks with foe; with the pard of my bosom an' the shudderin'
+victim of my wrath all sim'lar.'
+
+"Cherokee turns out a big drink an' stands a-holdin' of it in his hand.
+I wants to say right yere, this Cherokee's plenty guileful.
+
+"'You was namin',' says Cherokee, 'some public improvements you aims to
+make; sech as movin' this yere camp 'round some, I believes?'
+
+"'That's whatever,' says the Red Dog man, 'an' the holycaust I
+'nitiates is due to start in fifteen minutes.'
+
+"'I've been figgerin' on you,' says Cherokee, 'an' I gives you the
+result in strict confidence without holdin' out a kyard.  When you-all
+talks of tearin' up Wolfville, you're a liar an' a hoss-thief, an' you
+ain't goin' to tear up nothin'.'
+
+"'What's this I hears!' yells the frenzied Red Dog man, reachin' for
+his gun.
+
+"But he never gets it, for the same second Cherokee spills the glass of
+whiskey straight in his eyes, an' the next he's anguished an' blind as
+a mole.
+
+"'I'll fool this yere human simoon up a lot,' says Cherokee, a-hurlin'
+of the Red Dog man to the floor, face down, while his nine-inch bowie
+shines in his hand like the sting of a wasp.  'I shore fixes him so he
+can't get a job clerkin' in a store,' an' grabbin' the Red Dog man's
+ha'r, which is long as the mane of a pony, he slashes it off close in
+one motion.
+
+"'Thar's a fringe for your leggin's, Nell,' remarks Cherokee, a-turnin'
+of the crop over to Faro Nell.  'Now, Doc,' Cherokee goes on to Doc
+Peets, 'take this yere Red Dog stranger over to the Red Light, fix his
+eyes all right, an' then tell him, if he thinks he needs blood in this,
+to take his Winchester an' go north in the middle of the street.  In
+twenty minutes by the watch I steps outen the dance-hall door a-lookin'
+for him.  P'int him to the door all fair an' squar'.  I don't aim to
+play nothin' low on this yere gent.  He gets a chance for his ante.'
+
+"Doc Peets sorter accoomilates the Red Dog man, who is cussin' an'
+carryin' on scandalous, an' leads him over to the Red Light.  In a
+minute word comes to Cherokee as his eyes is roundin' up all proper,
+an' that he's makin' war-medicine an' is growin' more hostile constant,
+an' to heel himse'f.  At that Cherokee, mighty ca'm, sends out for Jack
+Moore's Winchester, which is an 'eight-squar',' latest model.
+
+"'Oh, Cherokee!' says Faro Nell, beginnin' to cry, an' curlin' her arms
+'round his neck.  'I'm 'fraid he's goin' to down you.  Ain't thar no
+way to fix it?  Can't Dan yere settle with this Red Dog man?'
+
+"'Cert,' says Dan Boggs, 'an' I makes the trip too gleeful.  Jest to
+spar' Nell's feelin's, Cherokee, an' not to interfere with no gent's
+little game, I takes your hand an' plays it.'
+
+"'Not none,' says Cherokee; 'this is my deal.  Don't cry, Nellie,' he
+adds, smoothin' down her yaller ha'r.  'Folks in my business has to
+hold themse'fs ready to face any game on the word, an' they never
+weakens or lays down.  An' another thing, little girl; I gets this Red
+Dog sharp shore.  I'm in the middle of a run of luck; I holds fours
+twice last night, with a flush an' a full hand out ag'in 'em.'
+
+"Nell at last lets go of Cherokee's neck, an', bein' a female an' timid
+that a-way, allows she'll go, an' won't stop to see the shootin' none.
+We applauds the idee, thinkin' she might shake Cherokee some if she
+stays; an' of course a gent out shootin' for his life needs his nerve.
+
+"Well, the twenty minutes is up; the Red Dog man gets his rifle offen
+his saddle an' goes down the middle of the street.  Turnin' up his big
+sombrero, he squares 'round, cocks his gun, an' waits.  Then Enright
+goes out with Cherokee an' stands him in the street about a hundred
+yards from the Red Dog man.  After Cherokee's placed he holds up his
+hand for attention an' says:
+
+"'When all is ready I stands to one side an' drops my hat.  You-alls
+fires at will.'
+
+"Enright goes over to the side of the street, counts 'one,' 'two,'
+'three,' an' drops his hat.  Bangety! Bang!  Bang! goes the rifles like
+the roll of a drum.  Cherokee can work a Winchester like one of these
+yere Yankee 'larm-clocks, an' that Red Dog hold-up don't seem none
+behind.
+
+"About the fifth fire the Red Dog man sorter steps for'ard an' drops
+his gun; an' after standin' onsteady for a second, he starts to
+cripplin' down at his knees.  At last he comes ahead on his face like a
+landslide.  Thar's two bullets plum through his lungs, an' when we gets
+to him the red froth is comin' outen his mouth some plenteous.
+
+"We packs him back into the Red Light an' lays him onto a monte-table.
+Bimeby he comes to a little an' Peets asks him whatever he thinks he
+wants.
+
+"'I wants you-alls to take off my moccasins an' pack me into the
+street,' says the Red Dog man.  'I ain't allowin' for my old mother in
+Missoury to be told as how I dies in no gin-mill, which she shorely
+'bominates of 'em.  An' I don't die with no boots on, neither.'
+
+"We-alls packs him back into the street ag'in, an' pulls away at his
+boots.  About the time we gets 'em off he sags back convulsive, an'
+thar he is as dead as Santa Anna.
+
+"'What sort of a game is this, anyhow?' says Dan Boggs, who, while we
+stands thar, has been pawin' over the Red Dog man's rifle.  'Looks like
+this vivacious party's plumb locoed.  Yere's his hind-sights wedged up
+for a thousand yards, an' he's been a-shootin' of cartridges with a
+hundred an' twenty grains of powder into 'em.  Between the sights an'
+the jump of the powder, he's shootin' plumb over Cherokee an' aimin'
+straight at him.'
+
+"'Nellie,' says Enright, lookin' remorseful at the girl, who colors up
+an' begins to cry agin, 'did you cold-deck this yere Red Dog sport this
+a-way?'
+
+"'I'm 'frald,' sobs Nell, 'he gets Cherokee; so I slides over when
+you-alls is waitin' an' fixes his gun some.'
+
+"'Which I should shorely concede you did,' says Enright.  'The way that
+Red Dog gent manipulates his weepon shows he knows his game; an' except
+for you a-settin' things up on him, I'm powerful afraid he'd spoiled
+Cherokee a whole lot.'
+
+"'Well, gents,' goes on Enright, after thinkin' a while, 'I reckons
+we-alls might as well drink on it.  Hist'ry never shows a game yet, an'
+a woman in it, which is on the squar', an' we meekly b'ars our burdens
+with the rest.'"
+
+
+
+
+JEAN MICHAUD'S LITTLE SHIP
+
+By CHARLES G. D. ROBERTS
+
+Reprinted, by permission of the author, from "The Saturday Evening
+Post."  All rights reserved.
+
+
+Patiently, doggedly, yet with the light in his eyes that belongs to the
+enthusiast and the dreamer, young Jean Michaud had worked at it.
+Throughout the winter he had hewed the seasoned timbers and the
+diminutive hackmatack "knees" from the swamp far back in the Equille
+Valley; and whenever the sledding was good with his yoke of black oxen
+he had hauled his materials to the secret place of his shipbuilding by
+the winding shore of a deep tidal tributary of the Port Royal.  In the
+spring he had laid the keel and riveted securely to it the squared
+hackmatack knees.  It was unusual to use such sturdy and unmanageable
+timbers as these hackmatack knees for a craft so small as this which
+the young Acadian was building; but Jean Michaud's thoughts were long
+thoughts and went far ahead.  He was putting all his hopes as well as
+all his scant patrimony into this little ship; and he was resolved that
+it should be strong to carry his fortunes.
+
+Through all the green and blue and golden Acadian summer he had toiled
+joyously at bending the thin planks and riveting them soundly to the
+ribs, the stem and the sternpost.  It was hot work, but white and
+savory, the clean spruce planks that he wrought with breathing sweet
+scents to his lungs as adze and chisel and saw set free the tonic
+spirit of their fibres.  His chips soon spread a yellow carpet over the
+mossy sward and the tree-roots.  The yellow sides of his graceful craft
+presently arose high among the green kissing branches of the water-ash
+and Indian pear.  The tawny golden shimmering current of the creek
+lipped up at high tide close under the stern of the little ship and set
+afloat the lowest layers of the chips; while at ebb a gleaming abyss of
+red mud with walls sloping sharply to a mere rivulet at their foot
+seemed to tempt the structure to a premature launching and a wild
+swooping rush to oozy doom.  Very secluded, far apart from beaten
+highway or forest byway, and quite aside from all the river traffic,
+was the place of Jean Michaud's shipbuilding.  And so it came about
+that the clear ringing blows of his adze, the sharp staccato of his
+diligent hammer and the strident crying of his saw brought no answer
+but the chatter of the striped chipmunks among the near tree-roots, or
+the scolding of the garrulous and inquisitive red squirrels from the
+branches overhead.  At the quiet of the noon hour, while Jean lay in
+the shade contemplating his handiwork, and weaving his many-colored
+dreams, and munching his brown-bread cakes and pale cheese, the
+clucking partridge hen would lead her brood out to investigate the
+edges of the chip-strewn open, where insects gathered in the heat.  And
+afterward, when once more Jean's hammering set up its brisk and
+cheerful echoes, the big golden-wing woodpeckers would promptly accept
+the sound as a challenge, and begin an emulous rat-tat-tat-tat-ting on
+the resonant sound-board of a dead beech not far off.
+
+By the time the partridge brood had taken to whirring up into the maple
+branches when alarmed, instead of scurrying to cover in the underbrush,
+the hull was completed; and a smell of smoking pitch drowned the woodsy
+odors as Jean calked the seams.  Then the pale yellow of the timbers no
+more shone through the reddening leafage, but a sombre black bulk
+loomed impressively above the chips, daunting the squirrels for a few
+days with its strange shadow.  By the time of the moose-calling, when
+the rowan-berries hung in great scarlet bunches and half the red
+leafage was turning brown, and the pale gold birch leaves fell in
+fluttering showers at every gust, two slim masts had raised their tops
+above the trees, and a white bowsprit was thrusting its nose into the
+branches of the nearest red maple.  Under the bowsprit glittered a
+carved and gilded Madonna, the most auspicious figurehead to which, in
+Jean's eyes, he could intrust the fortunes of his handiwork.  A few
+days more and the ship was done--so nearly complete that three or four
+hours of work would make her ready for sea.  Being so small, it was
+feasible to launch her in this advanced state of equipment; and the
+conditions under which she had been built made it necessary that she
+should be prepared to hurry straight from the greased ways of the
+launching to the security of the open sea.  The tidal creek in which
+she would first take water could give her no safe harborage; and once
+out of the creek she would have to make all speed, under cover of
+night, till Port Royal River and the sodded ramparts of Annapolis town
+should be left many miles astern.
+
+Having made his preparations and gathered his materials far ahead, and
+devised his precautions with subtlety, and accustomed his neighbors to
+the idea that he was an erratic youth, given to long absences and
+futile schemes, not worth gossip, Jean had succeeded in keeping his
+enterprise a secret from all but two persons.  These two, deep in his
+counsel's from the first, were Barbe Dieudonne, his sweetheart, and
+Mich' Masson, his friend and ally.
+
+Mich' Masson--whose home, which served him best as a place to stay away
+from, was in the village of Grand Pre, far up on the Basin of
+Minas--had been Jean's close friend since early boyhood, in the days
+before Port Royal town had been captured by the English and found its
+name changed to Annapolis.  He was a daring adventurer, hunter,
+woods-ranger, an implacable partisan of the French cause, and just now
+deeply interested in the traffic between Acadie and the new French
+fortress city of Louisburg--a traffic which the English Governor was
+angrily determined to break up.  Mich' Masson could sail a ship as well
+as set a dead-fall or lay an ambush.  He had kept bright in Jean's
+heart the flame of hatred against the English conquerors of Acadie.  It
+was he who had come to the aid of Jean's shipbuilding from time to
+time, when timbers had to be put in place which were too heavy for one
+pair of hands to work with.  It was, indeed, at his suggestion that
+Jean had finally decided to sell his cottage on the outskirts of
+Annapolis town, his scrap of upland with its apple trees in full
+bearing, his strip of rich dike-land with its apple trees in full
+bearing, his strip of rich dike-forbidden traffic--and to settle under
+the walls of Louisburg, where the flag he loved should always wave over
+his roof-tree.  It was Mich' Masson who had shown Jean how by this
+course he could quickly grow rich, and make a home for Barbe which that
+somewhat disconcerting and incomprehensible maiden would not scorn to
+accept.  Mich' Masson loved his own honor.  He loved Jean.  He hated
+the English.  Jean's secret was safe with him.
+
+Mademoiselle Barbe, under a disguise of indifference which sometimes
+reduced Jean to the not unprofitable condition wherein hard work is the
+sole refuge from despair, hid a passionate interest in her lover's
+undertaking.  She, too, hated the new domination.  She, too, chafed to
+escape from Annapolis and take up life anew under her old Flag of the
+Fleur-de-lis.  Moreover, her restless and fiery spirit could accept no
+contented tiller of green Acadian acres for a mate; and she was
+resolved that Jean's courageous heart and stirring dreams should
+translate themselves into action.  She would have him not only the
+daring dreamer but the daring doer--the successful smuggler, the shrewd
+foiler of the English watch-dogs, the admired and consulted partisan
+leader.  That he had it in him to be all these things she felt utterly
+convinced; but she proposed that the debilitating effects of too much
+happiness should have no chance of postponing his success.  Her keen
+watchfulness detected every weak spot in Jean's enterprise, every
+unguarded point in his secret; and her two-edged mockery, which seemed
+as careless and inconsequent as the wind, at once accomplished the
+effects she had in view.  Her fickleness of mood, her bewildering
+caprice, were the iridescent foam-bubbles veiling a deep and steady
+current.  She knew that she loved Jean's love for her, of which she
+felt as certain as dawn does of the sunrise.  She had a suspicion in
+the deep of her heart that she might be in love with Jean himself; but
+of this she was in no haste to be assured.  She was loyal in every
+fibre.  And Jean's secret was safe with her.
+
+Thus the wonder came to pass that Jean's secret, though known to three
+people, yet remained so long a secret.  Had the English Governor,
+behind his sodded ramparts overlooking the tide, got wind of it, never
+would Jean Michaud's little ship have sailed the open, save with an
+English captain and an English crew.  It would have been confiscated,
+on the not unreasonable presumption that it was intended for the
+forbidden trade.
+
+Early in the afternoon, on a day of mid-October, Jean stepped down the
+ladder which leaned against the starboard bow of his ship, and
+contemplated with satisfaction the name, "Mon Reve," which he had just
+painted in strong, gold lettering.  The exultation in his eyes became a
+passion of love and worship, as he turned to the slim girl who lay
+curled up luxuriously on a sweet-smelling pile of dried ferns and
+marsh-grass, watching him.
+
+"Since you won't let me name her directly after you, that is the
+nearest I can come to it, Barbe," he said.  "You can't find fault with
+that.  You are my dream--and all else besides."
+
+For a moment she watched him in silence.  Her figure was of a childish
+slenderness, and there was a childish abandon in her attitude.  The
+small hands crossed idly in her lap were very dark and thin and
+long-fingered, with rosy nails.  She was dressed in skirt and bodice of
+the creamy Acadian homespun linen, the skirt reaching not quite to her
+slim ankles.  Her mouth was full and red, half sorrowful, half mocking.
+Her face, small and rather thin, was tanned to a clear, dark brown, and
+of a type that suggested a strain of the ancient blood of the Basques.
+The thick black masses of her hair, with a rebel wave in them, and here
+and there a glint of flame, half covered her little ears and were
+gathered into a knot at the back of her neck.  The brim of her
+low-crowned hat of quilted linen was tilted far down to shade her face;
+and her eyes, very green and clear and large, made a bewildering
+brilliance in the shadow.
+
+The light in her eyes softened presently, and she said in a low voice:
+
+"Poor boy, a very sharp reality you find me most of the time, I'm
+afraid."
+
+For this unexpected utterance Jean had no words of answer ready, but
+his look was a sufficiently eloquent refutation.  He took a few eager
+steps toward her; then, reading inhibition in the sudden gravity of her
+mouth, he checked himself.
+
+"Day after to-morrow, about sundown," said he, "our Lady and St. Joseph
+permitting, we will get her launched.  The tide will be full then, and
+we will run down with it, and pass the fort before moonrise.  If the
+wind's fair we will get out of the Basin and off to sea that same
+night; but if it fails us there'll be tide enough to get us round the
+Island and into a hidden anchorage in Hibert River.  Then--a cargo of
+Acadian beef and barley for Louisburg!  And then--money!  And then--and
+then--you!"
+
+He looked at her with pleading and longing in his eyes, but with a
+doggedness about his mouth which told of much pain endured and a
+determination which might bide its time, indeed, but would not be
+balked.  The look of the mouth she was conscious of, deep down in her
+heart, and she in reality rested upon it; but it was the look in his
+eyes which she answered.  She answered it lightly.  A mocking smile
+played about the corners of her lips and her eyes sparkled upon him
+whimsically.  The look both repulsed and invited him; and he hung for
+some moments, as it were, trembling midway between the promise and the
+denial.
+
+"Don't be too sure of--me!" she said at last.  And his face fell--not
+so much at the words themselves as at their discouraging accent.
+
+"But," he protested, "it is all planned, all done, just for you, Barbe.
+There is nothing in it at all, except you.  It is all you.  That is
+understood between us from the first, and all the time."
+
+Still her mouth mocked him; and still her eyes gleamed upon him with
+their enigmatic light.
+
+"You will have your beautiful little ship," she said slowly.  "You will
+have wonderful adventures--and little time to think of me at all.  You
+will make a wonderful deal of money.  You will make your name famous
+and hated among these English.  I am expecting you to do great things.
+But as for me--I am not won yet, Jean."
+
+His eyes glowed upon her, and the lines of his face set themselves with
+a sudden masterfulness.  He gave a little, soft laugh.
+
+"You are mine!  You will be my wife before I make my second voyage."
+
+"If you believe that, you ought to be a very happy man," she retorted,
+and her smile softened almost imperceptibly as she said it.  "You don't
+look quite as happy as you ought to, Jean!"
+
+"_Don't_ make me wait for my second voyage!  Let me take you away from
+this unhappy country.  Come with me--come with me now!"
+
+He spoke swiftly, his voice thick with the sudden outburst of passion
+long held in check; and he strode forward to catch her in his arms.
+
+Instantaneous as a darting bird, or a flash of light on a wave, she was
+up from her resting-place and away behind the pile of grass and ferns.
+
+"Stay there!" she commanded, "or I'll go home at once!"  And Jean
+stayed.
+
+She laughed at him gayly, mercilessly.
+
+"Would you have me take you on trust, Jean?" she questioned, with her
+head on one side.  "How do I know that you are going to be brave enough
+to fight the English, or clever enough to outwit them?  How do I know
+you will really do the great things I'm expecting of you?  I know your
+dreams are fine, Boy; but you must show me deeds."
+
+"I will," he answered quietly.  "Come here, Sweet, just for one minute!"
+
+"No," she said with a very positive shake of her small head.  "You must
+go on with your work.  You have more to do yet than you realize.  And
+_I've_ something to do, too.  I must go home at once."
+
+"That's not fair, Barbe!" he pleaded.
+
+"I don't care!  It is good for you.  No, don't come one step with me.
+Not one step.  Go on with your work.  I'm going to fly."
+
+She ran lightly across the chips, at a safe distance from Jean's
+outstretched arms, and turned into the trail among the maples.  There
+she paused, gave her lover one melting, caressing, but still
+half-mocking glance, and cried to him:
+
+"I am making a flag for 'Mon Reve,' and it's not _nearly_ done yet,
+Jean."
+
+Then she disappeared among the bright branches.
+
+With a tumult in his heart Jean turned back to his ladder and
+paint-pot.  Little twinges of angry disappointment ran along his
+nerves, only to be smothered straightway in a flood of passionate
+tenderness.
+
+"Next voyage, anyway!" he muttered to himself as he worked feverishly.
+"I couldn't _live_ longer than that without her!"  And he went over and
+over in his imagination every detail of the girl's appearance, the
+changing moods of her radiant dark face, her hair, her hands, the tones
+of her voice.
+
+Along the trail through the autumn maples, meanwhile Mademoiselle Barbe
+was speeding on light feet.  The little smile was gone from the corners
+of her mouth, and into her eyes, now that Jean could no longer see
+them, was come a great gentleness.  Her mockery, her impatience, her
+picturesque asperity were a kind of game which she played with herself,
+to disguise, sometimes even from herself, the greatness and the
+oversensitiveness of her heart.  At this moment she was feeling sore at
+the nearness of Jean's departure, and was conscious of the pressure of
+his will urging her to go with him.  This she was resolved she would
+not do; but she was equally resolved that her flag should be ready and
+go in her place.  As for the next voyage--well, she thought to herself
+that Jean might persuade her by that time, if he tried hard.  As to his
+success she had not really a grain of doubt.  She knew well enough the
+quality of his fibre.  Her light feet, as she hurried, made hardly a
+sound upon the soft mould of the trail, which was half-hidden by the
+bright autumn carpeting of the leaves.  But presently she heard the
+noise of heavier footfalls approaching.  Just ahead of her the trail
+turned sharply.  Peering through the tangle of branches and thinned
+leafage, she caught glimpses of something that caused her face to grow
+pale, her heart to throb up into her throat; and she stepped behind the
+thick shelter of a fir bush to consider what was to be done.
+
+The sight that so disturbed her was in itself no terrible one.  A tall,
+ruddy-faced, keen-eyed man, carelessly dressed, but of erect, military
+bearing, came striding up the trail, a gun over his arm, a brown dog at
+his heels.  Barbe recognized him at once--the English officer in
+command of the fort at Annapolis.  She saw that he was out for
+partridges--but she saw, also, that he was walking at a pace that would
+speedily devour the scant two miles that divided him from the shipyard
+of "Mon Reve."  It was evident that he had forgotten his shooting in
+his interest in this unknown trail upon which he had stumbled.  If he
+went on the game was up for Jean's little ship!
+
+She resolved that he should not go on.  It took her just five seconds
+to decide the whole question.  There was a large fallen tree close
+beside the trail, two or three paces from where she hid.  Over this she
+threw herself discreetly, with a little choking scream, and lay moaning
+among the leaves beside it.
+
+The Englishman darted forward and was at her side in a moment, bending
+over her with a mingling of alarm and admiration in his gray eyes.
+
+"Mademoiselle," he cried, "what has happened?  Are you much hurt?"
+
+Receiving no answer, but more faint moans, he lifted her gently and
+stood her on her feet; but the instant he released her she collapsed
+upon the leaves, an appealing but intoxicating confusion of skirts, and
+slim brown hands, and crinkly dark hair, and the corner of a red mouth,
+and the glimpse of an ankle.
+
+"Mademoiselle!  Tell me what is the matter.  Tell me what can I do.
+Let me do something, I beg of you!"  Lifting her again, he seated her
+beside him on the fallen tree; and this time he did not at once release
+her.  At first, her eyes closed and her face a little drawn as with
+pain, she clung instinctively to his arm, with hands that seemed to him
+the most maddening that he had ever seen.  Then, after several minutes
+which were very agreeable to him in spite of his anxiety, she appeared
+to pull herself together with a mighty effort.  She moved away from his
+clasp, sat up straight, and opened upon him great eyes of pain and
+gratitude.
+
+"Oh, thank you Monsieur!" she said simply.  "I'm afraid I have been
+very troublesome.  But, indeed, I thought I was going to die."
+
+"But what is the matter, Mademoiselle?  Tell me, and let me help you."
+
+She sat cringing and setting her teeth hard.  He noticed how white were
+the teeth, how scarlet the full lips.
+
+"It is just my heart," she said.  "I was looking through the bushes to
+see who was coming.  Something startled me, I think; and the pain
+clutched at my heart so I could not breathe, and I fell off."
+
+She paused, to moan a little softly and catch her breath.  Before he
+could say anything she went on:
+
+"It's better now, but it hurts horribly."
+
+"Let me support you, Mademoiselle," he urged with eager courtesy.
+
+But she shrank away from the approaching ministration.
+
+"No, Monsieur, I am better, really.  But I must get home as quick as I
+can."  She rose unsteadily.
+
+The Englishman arose at the same time.  The next moment Barbe sank back
+again, biting her lips to keep back a cry.
+
+"Oh," she gasped, "I can't stand it!  How can I get home?"
+
+"You must let me see you home, Mademoiselle," said the officer,
+authority blending with palpable enthusiasm in his tones.
+
+"You are so good, Monsieur," she murmured gratefully.  "But I could not
+think of taking you away back so far, almost to the village.  It will
+spoil your afternoon's sport."
+
+The sympathy of the Englishman's face gave way to amusement, and he
+hastened to assure her of her mistake.
+
+"Not at all, indeed, Mademoiselle.  It will be quite as much my
+pleasure as my duty to see you safely home.  Your misfortune--if not
+too serious--is my great good fortune!"
+
+Thanking him with a look, Barbe arose weakly and took the proffered
+arm.  At first the homeward journey was very slow; but as the afternoon
+deepened, and the miles gathered between the English commandant and
+Jean's little ship, the girl began to let herself recover.  By this
+time she felt that there was no danger of her escort leaving her one
+minute before he was obliged to; and she knew that now, for this night,
+the ship was safe.  At last, as they emerged from the woods into a high
+pasture-ground, behind the cottage where Barbe lived with her aunt and
+uncle, the Englishman threw off the gallant for a moment and became the
+wide-awake officer.  He paused, took his bearings carefully, and
+scrutinized the trail behind him with searching eyes.
+
+"I have not seen this road before, Mademoiselle," he marked, "and it
+interests me.  It is not down on our map of the Annapolis district.
+Whither does it lead, may I ask?"
+
+Barbe's heart grew faint within her; but she answered lightly, with a
+look that somehow conveyed to him the impression that he should not be
+interested in roads when she was by.
+
+"They haul wood over it, my uncle and his neighbors, in the winter,"
+she answered, "and black mud in summer from the swamp back there."
+
+The Englishman appeared satisfied; but she felt that his curiosity was
+aroused, and with all her arts she strove to divert his thoughts
+exclusively to herself.  She succeeded in this to a degree that
+presently began to stir her apprehensiveness, and at her doorway she
+made her grateful farewells a trifle hurried.  But the Englishman would
+listen to nothing more discouraging than au revoir.  At last he said:
+
+"I shall be shooting over these woods again to-morrow"--Barbe clutched
+hard upon the latch and held her breath--"and shall give myself the
+pleasure of calling to ask after--but no!" he corrected himself.  "You
+are making me forget, Mademoiselle.  I have a council-meeting to fill
+my day with drudgery to-morrow."  (Barbe breathed again at this
+respite.)  "I must deny myself till the day after.  I may call then,
+may I not?"
+
+There was a moment's pause, and in that moment the girl's swift brain
+made its decision.
+
+"Certainly, Monsieur le Commandant," she said, sweeping his face with a
+brilliant glance that made his nerves tingle sweetly; "I shall be much
+honored.  My aunt and I will be much honored!"  And with a curtsy half
+mocking, half formal, and a disastrous curving of her scarlet lips, she
+slipped into the house.
+
+"By--Jove!" muttered the Englishman, as he strode away in a daze.
+
+From the window, behind the bean vines, Barbe watched him go.  The
+instant he was out of sight she darted from the door, sped swiftly over
+the rough pasture-lot, and disappeared among the twilights of the
+trail, where the afternoon shadows were already darkening to purple.
+She ran with the endurance of health and practice and a clean-breathing
+outdoor life; but presently her breath began to fail, her heart to
+thump madly against her slim sides.  Then--around a bend of the trail
+came Jean, returning earlier than his wont.  With an exclamation of
+glad surprise he sprang forward to meet her.  Still more was his
+surprise when she caught him by the shoulders with both hands and
+leaned, gasping and sobbing, against his breast.
+
+After one fierce clasp he held her lightly and tenderly like a child,
+and anxiously scanned her face.
+
+"What is it, Barbe, beloved?  What is the matter?" he questioned
+eagerly.
+
+"The ship," she panted, "must go!  You must go--_to-morrow_ night!"
+
+"Why?  But it is impossible!" he protested, bewildered.  "Mich' won't
+be here till the day after--and one man can't launch her, and can't
+sail her all by himself."
+
+"I tell you it must be done," she cried imperiously.  "You must, you
+must!"  And then, in a few edged words, she explained the situation.
+"If you can't, all is lost," she concluded, "for they will discover
+you, and seize the ship, the day after to-morrow.  Jean, I would never
+believe that you had any such word as 'can't.'"
+
+By this time Jean's face was white and his jaw was set.
+
+"Of course," he said quietly, "it will be done somehow.  I'm not beaten
+till I'm dead.  But the chances are, Sweet, that after I get the little
+ship launched I'll run her aground somewhere down the river, and be
+caught next day like a rat in a barrel.  It's ticklish navigating at
+best, down the river, and one man can't rightly manage even the
+foresail alone, and steer, in those eddies and twists in the channel.
+But--"
+
+"But, Jean--" she interrupted, and then paused, leaning close against
+him, and looking up at him with eyes that seemed to him to make a
+brightness in the dark.
+
+"But what, beautiful one?" he questioned, leaning his face over her,
+and growing suddenly tremulous with a vague, wonderful expectancy.
+
+"I can help!  Take me!"  And she hid her eyes against his rough
+shirt-sleeve.
+
+For one moment Jean stood tense, moveless, unable to apprehend this
+sudden realization of his dreams.  Then he swung her light figure up
+into his arms, and covered her face and hair with kisses.  With a
+little smile of content upon her lips she suffered his madness for a
+while.  Then she made him put her down.
+
+"There is no time now to make love to me," she said.  "We've so much to
+do and plan.  You've never run away with a ship and a girl before,
+Jean, and we must make sure you know just how to go about it."
+
+That night Barbe snatched a few hours of sleep, being mindful of the
+witchery of her eyes.  But Jean toiled all night long, driving his yoke
+of oxen to and fro between his cabin and his shipyard in the forest.
+And he was not weary.  His heart was light as air and sang with every
+pulse.  His strength and his star--he felt them equal to any crisis.
+
+On the following afternoon, when it wanted yet an hour of high tide,
+and the shadows of the maples were beginning to creep over the yellow
+chips, all was ready.  Full of a wild gayety, and untiring as a boy,
+Barbe had worked all day, getting the sails bent, the stores on board,
+the last of block and tackle into place.  Suddenly, from a post of
+vantage in the high-pointing bowsprit, she looked down the trail and
+clapped her brown hands with a shout of delight.
+
+"Mich' has come!" she cried.  And Mich' Masson, striding into the open,
+threw down a big red bundle on the chips.
+
+"Pretty nigh ready?" he inquired.  "Why, what is the matter, _mon
+gar'_?"
+
+Jean's face had fallen like his heart.  There was no longer any
+necessity of Barbe's sharing his adventure.  But he hurried forward and
+clasped his friend's hand.
+
+"We've got to get away to-night," he stammered, struggling bravely to
+make his voice sound cheerful.  "The English are coming over here
+to-morrow to find out what's going on--so it's time for us to be going
+off!  Barbe was to help me through with it."
+
+Mich' held to Jean's hand, and glanced questioningly from his troubled
+face to the girl's teasing one.  But Barbe had burned her bridges and
+saw no reason to be unmerciful.
+
+"I suppose I'll have to be just crew and cabin-boy now, Mich'," she
+pouted.  "Jean was going to let me be first mate, and there wasn't to
+be any crew."
+
+A great joy broke over Jean's face, and Mich' removed his gray woolen
+cap with a sweeping bow.  But before either could reply there came from
+a little way up the trail the excited yapping as of a dog that has
+treed a partridge.  The three looked at each other, their eyes wide
+with apprehension.  Then the report of a gun.
+
+"The Englishman!" gasped Barbe.  "He has not waited.  Quick, hide, one
+each side of the trail, and take him prisoner.  Don't shoot him.  He
+was kind to me."
+
+Jean snatched up his musket and the two men darted into the bush.  By a
+rope from the bulwarks Barbe swung herself lightly to the ground.  In
+haste she crossed the chip-strewn open, and then, carelessly swinging
+her hat in her hand, and singing a fitful snatch of song, she sauntered
+up the trail to meet the intruder.
+
+The trail wound rapidly, so that before she had gone two-score paces
+the ship was hid from her view.  A few steps more and the Englishman
+came in sight, swinging forward alertly, a fluff of brown feathers
+dangling from his right hand.  He was face to face with Barbe; and the
+delighted astonishment that came into his eyes was dashed with a faint
+chill of suspicion.
+
+"How fate favors me, Mademoiselle!" he exclaimed, doffing his cap.
+"Gad, you are a brave girl to wander so far into the woods alone!"
+
+"No, Monsieur, fate does not favor you," retorted Barbe with a sort of
+intimate petulance, holding out her brown fingers.  "You had no
+business coming to-day when you said you were not coming till
+to-morrow.  Now, you are going to find out a secret of mine which I
+didn't want any one to find out."
+
+"But you are not angry at seeing me," he protested.
+
+"N-n-o-o!" she answered, her head upon one side in doubt, while she
+bewildered him with her eyes.  "But I'm sorry in a way!  Well, come and
+I'll show you.  Forgive me for lying to you yesterday about this road!"
+
+And she turned to accompany him, walking very close to his side, so
+that her slim shoulder touched his arm and blurred his sagacity.  The
+next instant came the sharp order: "Halt!  Don't stir, or you're dead!"
+
+The Englishman found himself facing two leveled muskets.  At the same
+moment his own weapon went flying into the underbrush, twitched from
+his hold by a dexterous catch of Barbe's fingers.
+
+He stood still and very straight, his arms at his sides, eying his
+assailants steadily.  His first impulse was to dart upon them with his
+naked hands; but he saw the well-knit form of Jean, almost his own
+height, the lean, set face, a certain exultation in the eyes which he
+read aright; and he saw the shrewd, dark, confident look of Mich', the
+experienced master of situations.  The red mounted slowly to his face,
+and he turned upon Barbe a look wherein reproach at once gave way to
+scorn and a kind of shame.
+
+Barbe herself flushed under that look.
+
+"You wrong me, Monsieur!" she cried impetuously.  "I did it to save
+you.  You are a brave man, and would have tried to fight, and they
+would have killed you!"
+
+He bowed stiffly and turned to the men.
+
+"What do you want of me?"
+
+"Your parole!" said Jean.  "Give us your word that you will come with
+us quietly, making no resistance and no effort to escape."  The
+Englishman shut his lips doggedly.
+
+"Then you must be bound," said Mich' with curt decision.  "We've no
+time to waste."
+
+"Let _me_ bind you, Monsieur," said Barbe, taking his wrists gently and
+putting them behind his back.  "It is no dishonor to be captive to a
+woman."
+
+With a silk scarf from her waist, and a feminine cunning in knots, she
+quickly tied his hands together so that he felt himself quite hopeless
+of escape.  Then, in a cold wrath, he was led forward; with no
+constraint but Barbe's touch upon his arm.  The ship, high on her
+stocks, came into view.  And he understood.
+
+Seating himself upon a log, with his back against a tree, Mich' passed
+a rope about his waist and made him fast to the trunk.  There he sat
+and chewed his indignation, while his captors went in haste about their
+work.  But presently he grew interested.  He saw the blocks knocked out
+from under the little ship's sides, so that she came down upon the
+greased ways and slid smoothly into the flood.  He saw her checked
+gradually by a rope turned once around a tree trunk, so that she was
+kept from running aground on the opposite side of the Basin.  He saw a
+small boat dragged down from the bushes to the edge of the tide, and
+oars put into it.  By this time he had revolved many aspects of the
+case in his mind.  Then came to him Barbe and Jean.
+
+"Monsieur," said Jean, "I regret to have inconvenienced you in this
+way.  But you would without mercy have wrecked all my hopes.  I have
+put all my means into this little ship, built with my own hands.  My
+heart is set on removing from the land of Acadie, to live once more
+under my own flag of France.  But I do not wish to take you a prisoner
+to Louisburg, or to put you to any further annoyance.  To Mademoiselle
+Dieudonne you showed yourself yesterday a most kind and courteous
+gentleman.  All Acadie knows you are brave.  Give me your word that you
+will in no way seek to stop or hinder our departure, and let me set you
+free!"
+
+"Give your parole, Monsieur!" begged Barbe, "or you will have to devote
+yourself to entertaining me all the way to Louisburg."
+
+The Englishman's face brightened.
+
+"Almost you make me wish to go to Louisburg, Mademoiselle.  With the
+duty you apportion me I should be much happier, I assure you, than here
+in Annapolis trying to govern your good fellow-countrymen.  But I will
+give my parole.  I promise you, sir," and he turned his face to Jean,
+"that I will not in any way interfere with the departure of you and
+your ship from Acadie."
+
+"Thank you," said Jean, and he undid the rope and the scarf.
+
+The Englishman arose, walked down to the waterside with Barbe, and with
+elaborate courtesy helped her into the boat.  He bent his lips over her
+hand as he said good-by.
+
+Turning upon him then a laughing face of farewell, Barbe cried: "Never,
+never will I pardon you, Monsieur, for consenting to give your parole!"
+
+"Mademoiselle," he answered, "I am your prisoner still, and always."
+
+
+
+
+THOSE OLD LUNES! OR, WHICH IS THE MADMAN?
+
+By W. GILMORE SIMMS
+
+"I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly I know a
+hawk from a handsaw."--_Hamlet_.
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+We had spent a merry night of it.  Our stars had paled their not
+ineffectual fires, only in the daylight; and while Dan Phoebus was yet
+rising, "jocund on the misty mountain tops," I was busy in adjusting my
+foot in the stirrup and mounting my good steed Priam, to find my way by
+a close cut, and through narrow Indian trails, to my lodgings in the
+little town of C----, on the very borders of Mississippi.  There were a
+dozen of us, all merry larks, half mad with wine and laughter, and the
+ride of seven miles proved a short one.  In less than two hours, I was
+snugly snoozing in my own sheets, and dreaming of the twin daughters of
+old Hansford Owens.
+
+Well might one dream of such precious damsels.  Verily, they seemed,
+all of a sudden, to have become a part of my existence.  They filled my
+thoughts, excited my imagination, and,--if it be not an impertinence to
+say any thing of the heart of a roving lad of eighteen,--then were they
+at the very bottom of mine.--Both of them, let me say,--for they were
+twins, and were endowed with equal rights by nature.  I was not yet
+prepared to say what was the difference, if any, between their claims.
+One was fair, the other brown; one pensive, the other merry as the
+cricket of Venus.  Susannah was meek as became an Elder's daughter;
+Emmeline so mischievous that she might well have worried the meekest of
+the saints in the calendar from his propriety and position.  I confess,
+though I thought constantly of Susannah, I always looked after Emmeline
+the first.  She was the brunette--one of your flashing, sparkling,
+effervescing beauties,--perpetually running over with
+exultation--brimful of passionate fancies that tripped, on tiptoe, half
+winged, through her thoughts.  She was a creature to make your blood
+bound in your bosom,--to take you entirely off your feet, and fancy,
+for the moment, that your heels are quite as much entitled to dominion
+as your head.  Lovely too,--brilliant, if not absolutely perfect in
+features--she kept you always in a sort of sunlight.  She sung well,
+talked well, danced well--was always in air--seemed never herself to
+lack repose, and, it must be confessed, seldom suffered it to any body
+else.  Her dancing was the crowning grace and glory.  She was no
+Taglioni--not an Ellsler--I do not pretend that.  But she was a born
+artiste.  Every motion was a study.  Every look was life.  Her form
+subsided into the sweetest luxuriance of attitude, and rose into motion
+with some such exquisite buoyancy, as would become Venus issuing from
+the foam.  Her very affectations were so naturally worn, that you at
+length looked for them as essential to her charm.  I confess--but no!
+Why should I do anything so foolish?
+
+Susannah was a very different creature.  She was a fair girl--rather
+pale, perhaps, when her features were in repose.  She had rich soft
+flaxen hair, and dark blue eyes.  She looked rather than spoke.  Her
+words were few, her glances many.  She was not necessarily silent in
+silence.  On the contrary, her very silence had frequently a
+significance, taken with her looks, that needed no help from speech.
+She seemed to look through you at a glance, yet there was a liquid
+sweetness in her gaze, that disarmed it of all annoyance.  If Emmeline
+was the glory of the sunlight--Susannah was the sovereign of the shade.
+If the song of the one filled you with exultation, that of the other
+awakened all your tenderness.  If Emmeline was the creature for the
+dance,--Susannah was the wooing, beguiling Egeria, who could snatch you
+from yourself in the moments of respite and repose.  For my part, I
+felt that I could spend all my mornings with the former, and all my
+evenings with the latter.  Susannah with her large, blue, tearful eyes,
+and few, murmuring and always gentle accents, shone out upon me at
+nightfall as that last star that watches in the vault of night for the
+coming of the sapphire dawn.
+
+So much for the damsels.  And all these fancies, not to say feelings,
+were the fruit of but three short days' acquaintance with their
+objects.  But these were days when thoughts travel merrily and
+fast--when all that concerns the fancies and the affections, are caught
+up in a moment, as if the mind were nothing but a congeries of
+instincts, and the sensibilities, with a thousand delicate antennae,
+were ever on the grasp for prey.
+
+Squire Owens was a planter of tolerable condition.  He was a widower,
+with these two lovely and lovable daughters--no more.  But, bless you!
+Mine was no calculating heart.  Very far from it.  Neither the wealth
+of the father, nor the beauty of the girls, had yet prompted me to
+think of marriage.  Life was pleasant enough as it was.  Why burden it?
+Let well enough alone, say I.  I had no wish to be happier.  A wife
+never entered my thoughts.  What might have come of being often with
+such damsels, there's no telling; but just then it was quite enough to
+dance with Emmeline, and muse with Susannah, and--_vive la bagatelle_!
+
+I need say nothing more of my dreams, since the reader sufficiently
+knows the subject.  I slept late that day, and only rose in time for
+dinner, which, in that almost primitive region, took place at 12
+o'clock, M.  I had no appetite.  A herring and soda water might have
+sufficed, but these were matters foreign to the manor.  I endured the
+day and headache together, as well as I could, slept soundly that
+night, with now the most ravishing fancies of Emmeline, and now the
+pleasant dreams of Susannah, one or other of whom still usurped the
+place of a bright particular star in my most capacious fancy.  Truth
+is, in those heyday days, my innocent heart never saw any terrors in
+polygamy.  I rose a new man, refreshed and very eager for a start.  I
+barely swallowed breakfast when Priam was at the door.  While I was
+about to mount, with thoughts filled with the meek beauties of
+Susannah,--I was arrested by the approach of no less a person than
+Ephraim Strong, the village blacksmith.
+
+"You're guine to ride, I see."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"To Squire Owens, I reckon."
+
+"Right."
+
+"Well, keep a sharp look out on the road, for there's news come down
+that the famous Archy Dargan has broke Hamilton jail."
+
+"And who's Archy Dargan?"
+
+"What! don't know Archy?  Why, he's the madman that's been shut up
+there, it's now guine on two years."
+
+"A madman, eh?"
+
+"Yes, and a mighty sevagerous one at that.  He's the cunningest white
+man going.  Talks like a book, and knows how to get out of a
+scrape,--is jest as sensible as any man for a time, but, sudden, he
+takes a start, like a shying horse, and before you knows where you are,
+his heels are in your jaw.  Once he blazes out, it's knife or gun,
+hatchet or hickory--any thing he can lay hands on.  He's killed two men
+already, and cut another's throat a'most to killing.  He's an ugly chap
+to meet on the road, so look out right and left."
+
+"What sort of man is he?"
+
+"In looks?"
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"Well, I reckon, he's about your heft.  He's young and tallish, with a
+fair skin, brown hair, and a mighty quick keen blue eye, that never
+looks steadily nowhere.  Look sharp for him.  The sheriff with his
+'spose-you-come-and-take-us'--is out after him, but he's mighty cute to
+dodge, and had the start some twelve hours afore they missed him."
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+The information thus received did not disquiet me.  After the momentary
+reflection that it might be awkward to meet a madman, out of bounds,
+upon the highway, I quickly dismissed the matter from my mind.  I had
+no room for any but pleasant meditations.  The fair Susannah was now
+uppermost in my dreaming fancies, and, reversing the grasp upon my
+whip, the ivory handle of which, lined with an ounce or two of lead,
+seemed to me a sufficiently effective weapon for the worst of dangers,
+I bade my friendly blacksmith farewell, and dashed forward upon the
+high road.  A smart canter soon took me out of the settlement, and,
+once in the woods, I recommended myself with all the happy facility of
+youth, to its most pleasant and beguiling imaginings.  I suppose I had
+ridden a mile or more--the story of the bedlamite was gone utterly from
+my thought--when a sudden turn in the road showed me a person, also
+mounted, and coming towards me at an easy trot, some twenty-five or
+thirty yards distant.  There was nothing remarkable in his appearance.
+He was a plain farmer or woodman, clothed in ample homespun, and riding
+a short heavy chunk of an animal, that had just been taken from the
+plough.  The rider was a spare, long-legged person, probably thirty
+years or thereabouts.  He looked innocent enough, wearing that simple,
+open-mouthed sort of countenance, the owner of which, we assume, at a
+glance, will never set any neighbouring stream on fire.  He belonged
+evidently to a class as humble as he was simple,--but I had been
+brought up in a school which taught me that the claims of poverty were
+quite as urgent upon courtesy as those of wealth.  Accordingly, as we
+neared each other, I prepared to bestow upon him the usual civil
+recognition of the highway.  What is it Scott says--I am not sure that
+I quote him rightly--
+
+  "When men in distant forests meet,
+  They pass not as in peaceful street."
+
+And, with the best of good humour, I rounded my lips into a smile, and
+got ready my salutation.  To account somewhat for its effect when
+uttered, I must premise that my own personal appearance, at this time,
+was rather wild and impressive.  My face was full of laughter and my
+manners of buoyancy.  My hair was very long, and fell in masses upon my
+shoulder, unrestrained by the cap which I habitually wore, and which,
+as I was riding under heavy shade trees, was grasped in my hand along
+with my riding whip.  As the stranger drew nigh, the arm was extended,
+cap and whip lifted in air, and with free, generous lungs, I
+shouted--"good morning, my friend,--how wags the world with you to-day?"
+
+The effect of this address was prodigious.  The fellow gave no
+answer,--not a word, not a syllable--not the slightest nod of the
+head,--_mais, tout au contraire_.  But for the dilating of his amazed
+pupils, and the dropping of the lower jaw, his features might have been
+chiselled out of stone.  They wore an expression amounting to
+consternation, and I could see that he caught up his bridle with
+increased alertness, bent himself to the saddle, half drew up his
+horse, and then, as if suddenly resolved, edged him off, as closely as
+the woods would allow, to the opposite side of the road.  The
+undergrowth was too thick to allow of his going into the wood at the
+spot where we encountered, or he certainly would have done so.
+Somewhat surprised at this, I said something, I cannot now recollect
+what, the effect of which was even more impressive upon him than my
+former speech.  The heads of our horses were now nearly parallel--the
+road was an ordinary wagon track, say twelve feet wide--I could have
+brushed him with my cap as we passed, and, waving it still aloft, he
+seemed to fancy that such was my intention,--for, inclining his whole
+body on the off side of his nag, as the Comanche does when his aim is
+to send an arrow at his enemy beneath his neck--his heels thrown back,
+though spurless, were made to belabour with the most surprising
+rapidity the flanks of his drowsy animal.  And, not without some
+effect.  The creature dashed first into a trot, then into a canter, and
+finally into a gallop, which, as I was bound one way and he the other,
+soon threw a considerable space between us.
+
+"The fellow's mad!" was my reflection and speech, as, wheeling my horse
+half about, I could see him looking backward, and driving his heels
+still into the sides of his reluctant hack.  The next moment gave me a
+solution of the matter.  The simple countryman had heard of the
+bedlamite from Hamilton jail.  My bare head, the long hair flying in
+the wind, my buoyancy of manner, and the hearty, and, perhaps, novel
+form of salutation with which I addressed him, had satisfied him that I
+was the person.  As the thought struck me, I resolved to play the game
+out, and, with a restless love of levity which has been too frequently
+my error, I put the whip over my horse's neck, and sent him forward in
+pursuit.  My nag was a fine one, and very soon the space was lessened
+between me and the chase.  As he heard the footfalls behind, the
+frightened fugitive redoubled his exertions.  He laid himself to it,
+his heels paddling in the sides of his donkey with redoubled industry.
+And thus I kept him for a good mile, until the first houses of the
+settlement grew visible in the distance.  I then once more turned upon
+the path to the Owens', laughing merrily at the rare chase, and the
+undisguised consternation of the countryman.  The story afforded ample
+merriment to my fair friends Emmeline and Susannah.  "It was so
+ridiculous that one of my appearance should be taken for a madman.  The
+silly fellow deserved the scare."  On these points we were all
+perfectly agreed.  That night we spent charmingly.  The company did not
+separate till near one o'clock.  We had fun and fiddles.  I danced by
+turns with the twins, and more than once with a Miss Gridley, a very
+pretty girl, who was present.  Squire Owens was in the best of humours,
+and, no ways loth, I was made to stay all night.
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+A new day of delight dawned upon us with the next.  Our breakfast made
+a happy family picture, which I began to think it would be cruel to
+interrupt.  So snugly did I sit beside Emmeline, and so sweetly did
+Susannah minister at the coffee urn, and so patriarchally did the old
+man look around upon the circle, that my meditations were all in favour
+of certain measures for perpetuating the scene.  The chief difficulty
+seemed to be, in the way of a choice between the sisters.
+
+  "How happy could I be with either,
+  Were t'other dear charmer away."
+
+I turned now from one to the other, only to become more bewildered.
+The lively glance and playful remark of Emmeline, her lovely, smiling
+visage, and buoyant, unpremeditative air, were triumphant always while
+I beheld them; but the pensive, earnest look of Susannah, the mellow
+cadences of her tones, seemed always to sink into my soul, and were
+certainly remembered longest.  Present, Emmeline was irresistible;
+absent, I thought chiefly of Susannah.  Breakfast was fairly over
+before I came to a decision.  We adjourned to the parlour,--and there,
+with Emmeline at the piano, and Susannah with her Coleridge in
+hand--her favourite poet--I was quite as much distracted as before.
+The bravura of the one swept me completely off my feet.  And when I
+pleaded with the other to read me the touching poem of
+"Genevieve"---her low, subdued and exquisitely modulated utterance, so
+touching, so true to the plaintive and seductive sentiment, so
+harmonious even when broken, so thrilling even when most checked and
+hushed, was quite as little to be withstood.  Like the ass betwixt two
+bundles of hay, my eyes wandered from one to the other uncertain where
+to fix.  And thus passed the two first hours after breakfast.
+
+The third brought an acquisition to our party.  We heard the trampling
+of horses' feet in the court below, and all hurried to the windows, to
+see the new comer.  We had but a glimpse of him--a tall, good-looking
+personage, about thirty years of age, with great whiskers, and a huge
+military cloak.  Squire Owens met him in the reception room, and they
+remained some half hour or three quarters together.  It was evidently a
+business visit.  The girls were all agog to know what it was about, and
+I was mortified to think that Emmeline was now far less eager to
+interest me than before.  She now turned listlessly over the pages of
+her music book, or strummed upon the keys of her piano, with the air of
+one whose thoughts were elsewhere.  Susannah did not seem so much
+disturbed,--she still continued to draw my attention to the more
+pleasing passages of the poet; but I could see, or I fancied, that even
+she was somewhat curious as to the coming of the stranger.  Her eyes
+turned occasionally to the parlour door at the slightest approaching
+sound, and she sometimes looked in my face with a vacant eye, when I
+was making some of my most favourable points of conversation.
+
+At length there was a stir within, a buzz and the scraping of feet.
+The door was thrown open, and, ushered by the father, the stranger made
+his appearance.  His air was rather _distingue_.  His person was well
+made, tall and symmetrical.  His face was martial and expressive.  His
+complexion was of a rich dark brown; his eye was grey, large, and
+restless--his hair thin, and dishevelled.  His carriage was very erect;
+his coat, which was rather seedy, was close buttoned to his chin.  His
+movements were quick and impetuous, and seemed to obey the slightest
+sound, whether of his own, or of the voices of others.  He approached
+the company with the manner of an old acquaintance; certainly, with
+that of a man who had always been conversant with the best society.
+His ease was unobtrusive,--a polite deference invariably distinguishing
+his deportment whenever he had occasion to address the ladies.  Still,
+he spoke as one having authority.  There was a lordly something in his
+tones,--an emphatic assurance in his gesture,--that seemed to settle
+every question; and, after a little while, I found that, hereafter, if
+I played on any fiddle at all, in that presence, it was certainly not
+to be the first.  Emmeline and Susannah had ears for me no longer.
+There was a something of impatience in the manner of the former
+whenever I spoke as if I had only interrupted much pleasanter sounds;
+and, even Susannah, the meek Susannah, put down her Coleridge upon a
+stool, and seemed all attention, only for the imposing stranger.
+
+The effect upon the old man was scarcely less agreeable.  Col.
+Nelson,--so was the stranger called--had come to see about the purchase
+of his upper mill-house tract--a body of land containing some four
+thousand acres, the sale of which was absolutely necessary to relieve
+him from certain incumbrances.  From the conversation which he had
+already had with his visitor, it appeared that the preliminaries would
+be of easy adjustment, and Squire Owens was in the best of all possible
+humours.  It was nothing but Col. Nelson,--Col. Nelson.  The girls did
+not seem to need this influence, though they evidently perceived it;
+and, in the course of the first half hour after his introduction, I
+felt myself rapidly becoming de trop.  The stranger spoke in passionate
+bursts,--at first in low tones,--with halting, hesitating manner, then,
+as if the idea were fairly grasped, he dilated into a torrent of
+utterance, his voice rising with his thought, until he started from his
+chair and confronted the listener.  I cannot deny that there was a
+richness in his language, a warmth and colour in his thought, which
+fascinated while it startled me.  It was only when he had fairly ended
+that one began to ask what had been the provocation to so much warmth,
+and whether the thought to which we had listened was legitimately the
+growth of previous suggestions.  But I was in no mood to listen to the
+stranger, or to analyze what he said.  I found my situation quite too
+mortifying--a mortification which was not lessened, when I perceived
+that neither of the two damsels said a word against my proposed
+departure.  Had they shown but the slightest solicitude, I might have
+been reconciled to my temporary obscuration.  But no! they suffered me
+to rise and declare my purpose, and made no sign.  A cold courtesy from
+them, and a stately and polite bow from Col. Nelson, acknowledged my
+parting salutation, and Squire Owens attended me to the threshold, and
+lingered with me till my horse was got in readiness.  As I dashed
+through the gateway, I could hear the rich voice of Emmeline swelling
+exultingly with the tones of her piano, and my fancy presented me with
+the images of Col. Nelson, hanging over her on one hand, while the meek
+Susannah on the other, was casting those oblique glances upon him which
+had so frequently been addressed to me.  "Ah! pestilent jades," I
+exclaimed in the bitterness of a boyish heart; "this then is the love
+of woman."
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+Chewing such bitter cud as this, I had probably ridden a good mile,
+when suddenly I heard the sound of human voices, and looking up,
+discovered three men, mounted, and just in front of me.  They had
+hauled up, and were seemingly awaiting my approach.  A buzzing
+conversation was going on among them.  "That's he!" said one.  "Sure?"
+was the question of another.  A whistle at my very side caused me to
+turn my head, and as I did so, my horse was caught by the bridle, and I
+received a severe blow from a club above my ears, which brought me
+down, almost unconscious, upon the ground.  In an instant, two stout
+fellows were upon me, and busy in the praiseworthy toil of roping me,
+hands and feet, where I lay.  Hurt, stung, and utterly confounded by
+the surprise, I was not prepared to suffer this indignity with
+patience.  I made manful struggle, and for a moment succeeded in
+shaking off both assailants.  But another blow, taking effect upon my
+temples, and dealt with no moderate appliance of hickory, left me
+insensible.  When I recovered consciousness, I found myself in a cart,
+my hands tied behind me, my head bandaged with a red cotton
+handkerchief, and my breast and arms covered with blood.  A stout
+fellow rode beside me in the cart, while another drove, and on each
+side of the vehicle trotted a man, well armed with a double-barrelled
+gun.
+
+"What does all this mean?" I demanded.  "Why am I here?  Why this
+assault?  What do you mean to do with me?"
+
+"Don't be obstropolous," said one of the men.  "We don't mean to hurt
+you; only put you safe.  We had to tap you on the head a little, for
+your own good."
+
+"Indeed!" I exclaimed, the feeling of that unhappy tapping upon the
+head, making me only the sorer at every moment--"but will you tell me
+what this is for, and in what respect did my good require that my head
+should be broken?"
+
+"It might have been worse for you, where you was onbeknown," replied
+the spokesman,--"but we knowd your situation, and sarved you off
+easily.  Be quiet now, and----"
+
+"What do you mean--what is my situation?"
+
+"Well, I reckon we know.  Only you be quiet, or we'll have to give you
+the skin."
+
+And he held aloft a huge wagon whip as he spoke.  I had sufficient
+proof already of the unscrupulousness with which my companions acted,
+not to be very chary of giving them farther provocation, and, in silent
+misgiving, I turned my head to the opposite side of the vehicle.  The
+first glance in this quarter revealed to me the true history of my
+disaster, and furnished an ample solution of the whole mystery.  Who
+should I behold but the very fellow whom I had chased into town the day
+before.  The truth was now apparent.  I had been captured as the stray
+bedlamite from Hamilton jail.  It was because of this that I had been
+"tapped on the head--only for my own good."  As the conjecture flashed
+upon me, I could not avoid laughter, particularly as I beheld the still
+doubtful and apprehensive visage of the man beside me.  My laughter had
+a very annoying effect upon all parties.  It was a more fearful sign
+than my anger might have been.  The fellow whom I had scared, edged a
+little farther from the cart, and the man who had played spokesman, and
+upon whom the whole business seemed to have devolved, now shook his
+whip again--"None of that, my lad," said he, "or I'll have to bruise
+you again.  Don't be obstropolous."
+
+"You've taken me up for a madman, have you?" said I.
+
+"Well, I reckon you ought to know what you are.  There's no disputing
+it."
+
+"And this silly fellow has made you believe it?"
+
+"Reckon!"
+
+"You've made a great mistake."
+
+"Don't think it."
+
+"But you have: Only take me to C----, and I'll prove it by General
+Cocke, himself, or Squire Humphries, or any body in the town."
+
+"No! no! my friend,--that cock won't fight.  We aint misdoubting at
+all, but you're the right man.  You answer all the descriptions, and
+Jake Sturgis here, has made his affidavy that you chased him, neck and
+neck, as mad as any blind puppy in a dry September, for an hour by sun
+yesterday.  We don't want no more proof."
+
+"And where do you mean to carry me?" I enquired, with all the coolness
+I was master of.
+
+"Well, we'll put you up in a pen we've got a small piece from here; and
+when the sheriff comes, he'll take you back to your old quarters at
+Hamilton jail, where I reckon they'll fix you a little tighter than
+they had you before.  We've sent after the sheriff, and his
+'spose-you-come-and-take-us,' and I reckon they'll be here about
+sun-down."
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+Here was a "situation" indeed.  Burning with indignation, I was yet
+sufficiently master of myself to see that any ebullition of rage on my
+part, would only confirm the impression which they had received of my
+insanity.  I said little, therefore, and that little was confined to an
+attempt to explain the chase of yesterday, which Jake Sturgis had made
+the subject of such a mischievous "affidavy."  But as I could not do
+this without laughter, I incurred the danger of the whip.  My laugh was
+ominous,--Jake edged off once more to the roadside; the man beside me,
+got his bludgeon in readiness, and the potent wagon whip of the leader
+of the party was uplifted in threatening significance.  Laughter was
+clearly out of the question, and it naturally ceased on my part, as I
+got in sight of the "pen" in which I was to be kept secure.  This
+structure is one well known to the less civilized regions of the
+country.  It is a common place of safe-keeping in the absence of jail
+and proper officers.  It is called technically a "bull pen," and
+consists of huge logs, roughly put together, crossing at right angles,
+forming a hollow square,--the logs too massy to be removed, and the
+structure too high to be climbed, particularly if the prisoner should
+happen to be, like myself, fairly tied up hand and foot together.  I
+relucted terribly at being put into this place.  I pleaded urgently,
+struggled fiercely, and was thrust in neck and heels without remorse;
+and, in sheer hopelessness and vexation, I lay with my face prone to
+the earth, and half buried among the leaves, weeping, I shame to
+confess it, the bitter tears of impotence and mortification.
+
+Meantime, the news of my capture went through the country;--not _my_
+capture, mark me, but that of the famous madman, Archy Dargan, who had
+broke Hamilton jail.  This was an event, and visitors began to collect.
+My captors, who kept watch on the outside of my den, had their hands
+full in answering questions.  Man, woman and child, Squire and
+ploughboy, and, finally, dames and damsels, accumulated around me, and
+such a throng of eyes as pierced the crevices of my log dungeon, to see
+the strange monster by whom they were threatened, now disarmed of his
+terrors, were,--to use the language of one of my keepers--"a power to
+calkilate."  This was not the smallest part of my annoyance.  The logs
+were sufficiently far apart to suffer me to see and to be seen, and I
+crouched closer to my rushes, and buried my face more thoroughly than
+ever, if possible, to screen my dishonoured visage from their curious
+scrutiny.  This conduct mightily offended some of the visitors.
+
+"I can't see his face," said one.
+
+"Stir him with a long pole!"--and I was greatly in danger of being
+treated as a surly bear, refusing to dance for his keeper; since one of
+mine seemed very much disposed to gratify the spectator, and had
+actually begun sharpening the end of a ten foot hickory, for the
+purpose of pricking me into more sociableness.  He was prevented from
+carrying his generous design into effect by the suggestion of one of
+his companions.  "Better don't, Bosh; if ever he should git out agen,
+he'd put his ear mark upon you."  "Reckon you're right," was the reply
+of the other, as he laid his rod out of sight.
+
+Meanwhile, the people came and went, each departing visitor sending
+others.  A couple of hours might have elapsed leaving me in this
+humiliating situation, chained to the stake, the beast of a bear
+garden, with fifty greedy and still dissatisfied eyes upon me.  Of
+these, fully one fourth were of the tender gender; some pitied me, some
+laughed, and all congratulated themselves that I was safely laid by the
+heels, incapable of farther mischief.  It was not the most agreeable
+part of their remarks, to find that they all universally agreed that I
+was a most frightful looking object.  Whether they saw my face or not,
+they all discovered that I glared frightfully upon them, and I heard
+one or two of them ask in under tones, "did you see his teeth---how
+sharp!" I gnashed them with a vengeance all the while, you may be sure.
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+The last and worst humiliation was yet to come--that which put me for a
+long season out of humour with all human and woman nature.  Conscious
+of an unusual degree of bustle without, I was suddenly startled by
+sounds of a voice that had been once pleasingly familiar.  It was that
+of a female, a clear, soft, transparent sound, which, till this moment,
+had never been associated in my thoughts with any thing but the most
+perfect of all mortal melodies.  It was now jangled harsh, like "sweet
+bells out of tune."  The voice was that of Emmeline.  "Good heavens!" I
+exclaimed to myself--"can she be here?"  In another instant, I heard
+that of Susannah--the meek Susannah,--she too was among the curious to
+examine the features of the bedlamite, Archy Dargan.  "Dear me," said
+Emmeline, "is he in that place?"
+
+"What a horrid place!" said Susannah.
+
+"It's the very place for such a horrid creature," responded Emmeline.
+
+"Can't he get out, papa?" said Susannah.  "Isn't a mad person very
+strong?"
+
+"Oh! don't frighten a body, Susannah, before we have had a peep," cried
+Emmeline; "I declare I'm afraid to look--do, Col. Nelson, peep first
+and see if there's no danger."  And there was the confounded Col.
+Nelson addressing his eyes to my person, and assuring his fair
+companions, my Emmeline, my Susannah, that there was no sort of
+danger,--that I was evidently in one of my fits of apathy.
+
+"The paroxysm is off for the moment, ladies,--and even if he were
+violent, it is impossible that he should break through the pen.  He
+seems quite harmless--you may look with safety."
+
+"Yes, he's mighty quiet now, Miss,"--said one of my keepers
+encouragingly, "but it's all owing to a close sight of my whip.  He was
+a-guine to be obstropolous more than once, when I shook it over
+him--he's usen to it, I reckon.  You can always tell when the roaring
+fit is coming on--for he breaks out in such a dreadful sort of
+laughing."
+
+"Ha!  Ha!--he laughs does he--Ha!  Ha!" such was the somewhat wild
+interruption offered by Col. Nelson himself.  If my laugh produced such
+an effect upon my keeper, his had a very disquieting effect upon me.
+But, the instinctive conviction that Emmeline and Susannah were now
+gazing upon me, prompted me with a sort of fascination, to lift my head
+and look for them.  I saw their eyes quite distinctly.  Bright
+treacheries!  I could distinguish between them--and there were those of
+Col. Nelson beside them--the three persons evidently in close
+propinquity.
+
+"What a dreadful looking creature!" said Susannah.
+
+"Dreadful!" said Emmeline, "I see nothing so dreadful in him.  He seems
+tame enough.  I'm sure, if that's a madman, I don't see why people
+should be afraid of them."
+
+"Poor man, how bloody he is!" said Susannah.
+
+"We had to tap him, Miss, a leetle upon the head, to bring him quiet.
+He's tame and innocent now, but you should see him when he's going to
+break out.  Only just hear him when he laughs."
+
+I could not resist the temptation.  The last remark of my keeper fell
+on my ears like a suggestion, and suddenly shooting up my head, and
+glaring fiercely at the spectators, I gave them a yell of laughter as
+terrible as I could possibly make it.
+
+"Ah!" was the shriek of Susannah, as she dashed back from the logs.
+Before the sounds had well ceased, they were echoed from without and in
+more fearful and natural style from the practised lungs of Col. Nelson.
+His yells following mine, were enough to startle even me.
+
+"What!" he cried, thrusting his fingers through the crevice, "you would
+come out, would you,--you would try your strength with mine.  Let him
+out,--let him out!  I am ready for him, breast to breast, man against
+man, tooth and nail, forever and forever.  You can laugh too, but--
+Ha!  Ha!  Ha!--what do you say to that?  Shut up, shut up, and be
+ashamed of yourself.  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!"
+
+There was a sensation without.  I could see that Emmeline recoiled from
+the side of her companion.  He had thrown himself into an attitude, had
+grappled the logs of my dungeon, and exhibited a degree of strange
+emotion, which, to say the least, took everybody by surprise.  My chief
+custodian was the first to speak.
+
+"Don't be scared, Mr.--there's no danger--he can't get out."
+
+"But I say let him out--let him out.  Look at him, ladies--look at him.
+You shall see what a madman is--you shall see how I can manage him.
+Hark ye, fellow,--out with him at once.  Give me your whip--I know all
+about his treatment.  You shall see me work him.  I'll manage
+him,--I'll fight with him, and laugh with him too--how we shall
+laugh--Ha!  Ha!  Ha!"
+
+His horrible laughter--for it was horrible--was cut short by an
+unexpected incident.  He was knocked down as suddenly as I had been,
+with a blow from behind, to the astonishment of all around.  The
+assailant was the sheriff of Hamilton jail, who had just arrived and
+detected the fugitive, Archy Dargan--the most cunning of all
+bedlamites, as he afterwards assured me--in the person of the handsome
+Col. Nelson.
+
+"I knew the scamp by his laugh--I heard it half a mile," said the
+sheriff, as he planted himself upon the bosom of the prostrate man, and
+proceeded to leash him in proper order.  Here was a concatenation
+accordingly.
+
+"Who hev' I got in the pen?" was the sapient inquiry of my captor--the
+fellow whose whip had been so potent over my imagination.
+
+"Who?  Have you any body there?" demanded the sheriff.
+
+"I reckon!--We cocht a chap that Jake made affidavy was the madman."
+
+"Let him out then, and beg the man's pardon.  I'll answer for Archy
+Dargan."
+
+My appearance before the astonished damsels was gratifying to neither
+of us.  I was covered with mud and blood,--and they with confusion.
+
+"Oh!  Mr. ----, how could we think it was you, such a fright as they've
+made you."
+
+Such was Miss Emmeline's speech after her recovery.  Susannah's was
+quite as characteristic.
+
+"I am so very sorry, Mr. ----."
+
+"Spare your regrets, ladies," I muttered ungraciously, as I leapt on my
+horse.  "I wish you a very pleasant morning."
+
+"Ha!  Ha!  Ha!" yelled the bedlamite, writhing and bounding in his
+leash--"a very pleasant morning."
+
+The damsels took to their heels, and went off in one direction quite as
+fast as I did in the other.  Since that day, dear reader, I have never
+suffered myself to scare a fool, or to fall in love with a pair of
+twins; and if ever I marry, take my word for it, the happy woman shall
+neither be a Susannah, nor an Emmeline.
+
+
+
+
+THE CHIROPODIST
+
+By BAYARD TAYLOR
+
+
+R. Henry Bartlett was one of three gentlemen who rode from the railroad
+station to Moore's Hotel, at Trenton Falls, on the top of an omnibus;
+and who, having clambered down from that lofty perch, under the
+inspection of forty pairs of eyes leveled at them from the balcony,
+hastened to inscribe their names in the book, and secure the keys of
+their several chambers.  To no one of the three, however, was this
+privacy so welcome as to Mr. Bartlett, who, entering his room with
+flushed face, nervously dismissed the servant, locked the door, and
+dropped into a chair with a pant of relief.  Our business being
+entirely with him, we shall at once dismiss his two companions--whom,
+indeed, we have only introduced as accessories to the principal
+figure--and, taking our invisible seats in the opposite chair, proceed
+to a contemplation of his person.
+
+Age--four, perhaps five, and twenty--certainly not more; height, five
+feet nine inches, with well-developed breast and shoulders; limbs,
+whose firm, ample muscle betrays itself through the straight lines of
+his light summer costume, and hands and feet of agreeable shape;
+complexion fair, with a skin of feminine fineness and transparency,
+whereon the uncontrollable blood writes his emotions so palpably that
+he who runs may read; eyes of a clear, honest blue, but so shy of
+meeting a steady gaze that few know how beautiful they really are;
+mouth full and sensitive, and of so rich and dewy a red that we can not
+help wishing he were a woman that we might be pardoned for kissing it;
+forehead broad, and rather low; hair--but here we hesitate, for his
+enemies would certainly call it red.  Indeed, in some lights it is red,
+but its prevailing tint is brown, with a bronze lustre on the curls.
+As he sits thus, unconscious of our observation, he is certainly
+handsome, in spite of a haunting air of timidity which weakens the
+expression of features not weak in themselves.  On further observation,
+we are inclined to believe that he has not achieved that easy poise of
+self-possession which, in men of becoming modesty, is the result of
+more or less social experience.  He belongs, evidently, to that class
+of awkward, honest, warm-hearted, and sensitive natures whom all men
+like, and some women.
+
+Mr. Bartlett's reflections, after his arrival, were--we have good
+reason to know--after this fashion: "When will I cease to be a fool?
+Why couldn't I stare back at all those people on the balcony as coolly
+as the two fellows who sat beside me?  Why couldn't I get down without
+missing the step and grazing my shin on the wheel?  Why should I walk
+into the house with my head down, and a million of cold little needles
+pricking my back, because men and women, and not sheep, were looking at
+me?  I have at least an average body, as men go--an average intellect,
+too, I think; yet every day I see spindly, brainless squirts [Mr.
+Bartlett would not have used this epithet in conversation, but it
+certainly passed through his mind] put me to shame by their
+self-possession.  The women think me a fool because I have not the
+courage to be natural and unembarrassed, and I carry the consciousness
+of the fact about me whenever I meet them.  Come, come: this will never
+do.  I am a man, and I ought to possess the ordinary resolution of a
+man.  Now, here's a chance to turn over a new leaf.  Nobody knows me;
+no one will notice me particularly; and whether I fail or succeed, the
+experiment will never be brought forward to my confusion hereafter."
+
+Full of a sudden courage he sprang to his feet, and carefully adjusted
+his toilet for the tea-table, whistling cheerfully all the while.  At
+the sound of the gong he descended the staircase, and approached the
+dining-room with head erect, meeting the gaze of the other guests with
+a steadiness which resembled defiance.  He was surprised to find how
+mechanical and transitory were the glances he encountered.  As Mr.
+Bartlett's friend, I should not like to assert that in his efforts to
+appear self-possessed he approached the bounds of effrontery; but I
+have my own private suspicions about the matter.  At the table a lively
+conversation was carried on, and he was able to take many stealthy
+observations of the ladies without being noticed.  To his shame I must
+confess that he had never been seriously in love, though it was a
+condition he most earnestly desired.  Attracted toward women by the
+instinct of his nature, and repelled by his awkward embarrassment,
+there seemed little chance that he would ever attain it.  On this
+particular occasion, however, he cast his eyes around with the air of a
+sultan scanning his slaves before throwing the handkerchief to the
+chosen one.  The female guests--old, young, married, single,
+ill-favored or beautiful--were subjected to the review.  It is
+impossible to describe Mr. Bartlett's satisfaction with himself.
+
+He had passed over twenty-nine of the thirty-five ladies present
+without experiencing any special emotion; but at the thirtieth he was
+suddenly attacked by a recurrence of his habitual timidity.  He fixed
+his eyes upon his toast, painfully conscious by the warmth of his ears
+that he was blushing violently, and actually drank a third cup of tea
+(one more than his usual allowance) before he became sufficiently
+composed to look up again.  Really there was no cause for confusion.
+Her face was turned away, so that even the profile was not wholly
+visible; but the exquisite line of the forehead and cheek, bent inward
+at the angle of the unseen eye, and melting into the sweep of the neck
+and shoulder, were the surest possible prophecies of beauty.  Her
+chestnut hair, rippled at the temples, was gathered into a heavy,
+shining knot at the back of her head, and inwoven with the varnished,
+heart-shaped leaves of the smilax.  More than this Mr. Bartlett did not
+dare to notice.
+
+During the evening he flitted restlessly about the rooms, intent on an
+object which he thus explained to himself: "I should like to see
+whether her front face corresponds to the outline of her cheek.  I am
+alone; it is too late to visit the Falls, and a whim of this sort will
+help me to pass the time."  But the lady belonged, apparently, to a
+numerous party, who took possession of one end of the balcony and sat
+in the moonlight, in such a position that he could not see her features
+with distinctness.  The face was a pure oval, in a frame-work of superb
+hair, and the glossy leaves of smilax glittered like silver in the
+moonlight whenever she chanced to turn her head.  There were songs, and
+she sang--"Scenes that are brightest," or something of the kind,
+suggested by the influences of the night.  Her voice was clear and
+sweet, without much strength--one of those voices which seem to be made
+for singing to one ear alone.  "Here, by God's grace, is the one voice
+for me," thought Mr. Bartlett.  [He had just been reading the "Idyls of
+the King."]  He slipped off to bed, saying to himself: "A little more
+courage, and I may be able to make her acquaintance."
+
+In the morning he set out to make the tour of the Falls.  Entering the
+glen from below, he slowly crept up the black shelves of rock, under
+and around the rush of the amber waters.  The naiads of Trenton, waving
+their scarfs of rainbow brede, tossed their foam fringes in his face:
+above, the dryads of the pine and beech looked down from their seats on
+the brink of the overhanging walls.  Mr. Bartlett was neither a poet
+nor a painter, nor was it necessary; but his temperament (as you may
+know from his skin and the color of his hair) was joyous and excitable,
+and he felt a degree of delight that made him forget his own self.  I
+fancy there are no embarrassing conventionalisms at the bottom of the
+earth--wherever that may be--and the glen at Trenton is two hundred
+feet on the way thither.  Our friend enjoyed to the full this partial
+release, and was surprised to find that he could assist several married
+ladies to climb the slippery steps at the High Pall without consciously
+blushing.
+
+How it came to pass he never could rightly tell, but certain it is
+that, on lifting his eyes after a long contemplation of the shifting
+slides of fretted amber, he found himself alone in the glen--with the
+exception of a young lady who sat on the rocks a few paces distant.  At
+the first glance he thought it was a child, for the slight form was
+habited in a Bloomer dress, and a broad hat shaded the graceful head.
+The wide trowsers were gathered around her ankles, and a pair of the
+prettiest feet he had ever seen dangled in the edge of the swift
+stream.  She was idly plucking up tufts of grass from the crevices of
+the rock, and tossing them in the mouth of the cataract, and her face
+was partly turned toward him.  It was the fair unknown of the evening
+before!  There was no mistaking the lovely cheek and the rippled
+chestnut hair.
+
+Mr. Bartlett felt--as he afterward expressed himself--a warm, sweet
+shudder run through all his veins.  Alone with that lovely creature,
+below the outside surface of the earth!  "Oh, if I could but speak to
+her!  Her dress shows that she can lay aside the soulless forms of
+society in such a place as this: why not I?  There's Larkin, and
+Kirkland, and lots of fellows I know, wouldn't hesitate a moment.  But
+what shall I say?  'The scenery's very fine?'  Pshaw!  But the first
+sentence is the only difficulty---the rest will come of itself.  What
+if I address her boldly as an old acquaintance, and then apologize for
+my mistake?  Upon my word, a good idea!  So natural and possible!"
+
+Having determined upon this plan, he immediately put it into action
+before the resolve had time to cool.  His step was firm and his bearing
+was sufficiently confident as he approached her; but when she lifted
+her long lashes, disclosing a pair of large, limpid, hazel eyes, which
+regarded him, unabashed, with the transient curiosity one bestows upon
+a stranger, his face, I am sure, betrayed the humbug of the thing.  The
+lady, however, not anticipating what followed, could scarcely have
+remarked it.
+
+Raising his hat as he reached the corner of the rock upon which she
+sat, he said, in a voice so curiously balanced between his enforced
+boldness and his reflected surprise thereat, that he hardly recognized
+it as his own:
+
+"How do you do, Miss Lawrence?"
+
+The lady looked at him wonderingly--steady, child-like eyes, that
+frankly and innocently perused his face, as if seeking for some trace
+of a forgotten acquaintance.  Mr. Bartlett could not withdraw his,
+although he knew that his face was getting redder and his respiration
+more unsteady every moment.  He stammered forth:
+
+"Miss Lawrence, of South Carolina, I believe."
+
+"You are mistaken, Sir," said the lady, with the least shade of
+coldness in her voice, but it fell upon Mr. Bartlett like the wind from
+an iceberg--"I am not Miss Lawrence."
+
+"I--I beg your pardon," he answered, somewhat confusedly.  "You
+resemble her; I expected to meet her here.  Will you please tell her I
+enquired for her?  Here's my card!"  Therewith he thrust both hands
+into his vest pockets, extracted a card from one of them, and laid it
+hastily upon the rock beside her.
+
+"Bertha!  Bertha!" rang through the glen, above the roar of the
+waterfall.  The remainder of the party which the young lady had
+preceded now came into view descending toward her.
+
+"Good-day, Miss Lawrence!" said Mr. Bartlett, again lifting his hat,
+and retracing his steps.  For his life he could not have passed her and
+run the gauntlet of the faces of her friends upon the narrow path.
+Every soul of them would have instantly seen what a fool he was.
+Moreover, he had achieved enough for one day.  The soldier who storms a
+perilous breach and finds himself alive on the inside of it could not
+be more astonished than he.  "I blundered awfully," he thought; "but,
+after all, it's the one way to learn."--"Who's your friend, Bertha?"
+asked her brother, Dick Morris, the avant-guard of the party.  "I never
+saw the fellow before."
+
+"If you had not frightened him by your sudden appearance," said she,
+"you might have discovered.  A Southerner, I suppose, though he don't
+look like one.  He addressed me as Miss Lawrence, of South Carolina,
+and afterwards left me his card, to be given to her.  What shall I do
+with it?"
+
+"Ha! the card will tell us who he is," said Dick, picking it up.  He
+instantly burst into a roar of laughter.  "Ha! ha!  This comes of
+wearing a Bloomer, Bertha!  Though I must say it's by no means
+complimentary to your little feet.  Who'd suspect _you_ of having
+corns?"
+
+"Dick, what _do_ you mean?"
+
+"Ha! ha! no doubt I came at the nick of time to prevent him from
+pulling off your shoes."
+
+"DICK!"
+
+Therewith she impatiently jerked the card from her brother's hand.  It
+was large, thick, handsomely glazed, and contained the following
+inscription:
+
+          PROFESSOR HURLBUT,
+             Chiropodist
+  To her Majesty Queen Victoria, and the
+       Nobility of Great Britain.
+
+
+"Incredible!" she exclaimed.  "So young, and embarrassed in his
+manners; how could he ever have taken hold of the Queen's foot?"
+
+"Embarrassed indeed!" said Dick.  "I think he has a very cool way of
+procuring patients.  But, faith, he's chosen a romantic operating-room.
+After climbing down these rocks the corns naturally begin to twinge,
+and here's the Professor on hand.  Behold the march of civilization!"
+
+Bertha did not fall into her brother's vein of badinage, as usual.  She
+was vexed that the fresh, manly face and blue eyes into which she had
+looked belonged to a charlatan, and vexed at herself for being vexed
+thereat.  It was not so easy, however, to dismiss Professor Hurlbut
+from her mind, for Dick had related the incident to the others of the
+party, with his own embellishments, and numberless were the jokes to
+which it gave rise throughout the day.
+
+Meantime Mr. Bartlett, in happy ignorance of the worst blunder he had
+ever made, returned to the hotel.  The day previous, at Utica, he had
+been annoyed by an itinerant extractor of corns, suppressor of bunions,
+and regulator of irregular nails, whose proffered card he had put into
+his pocket in order to get rid of the man.  It was this card which he
+had presented to Miss Morris as his own.  On reaching the hotel he
+easily ascertained her real name and place of residence, with the
+additional fact that the party were to leave for Saratoga on the
+morrow.  It occurred to him also that Saratoga, in the height of the
+season, would be well worth a visit.
+
+In the evening he again happened to meet the lady on the stairs.  He
+retreated into a corner of the landing, to make room for her ample
+skirts, and, catching a glance of curious interest for her hazel eyes,
+ventured to say: "Good-evening, Miss Law-ris!" suddenly correcting her
+name in the middle.  Bertha, in spite of the womanly dignity which she
+could very well summon to her aid, could not suppress a fragment of gay
+laughter, in which the supposed Professor joined.  A slight inclination
+of the lovely head acknowledged his salutation.
+
+The next morning Miss Bertha Morris left, with her party, for Saratoga;
+and after allowing a day to intervene, in order to avoid the appearance
+of design, Mr. Henry Bartlett followed.  He did not admit to himself in
+the least that this movement was prompted by love; but he was aware of
+an intense desire to make her acquaintance.  The earnestness which this
+desire infused into his nature gave him courage; the man within him was
+beginning to wake and stir; and a boyhood of character, prolonged
+beyond the usual date, was dropping rapidly into the irrecoverable
+conditions of the past.
+
+It chanced that they both took quarters in the same hotel; and great
+was Bertha's astonishment; on her first morning visit to the Congress
+Spring, to find Professor Hurlbut quietly quaffing his third glass.  He
+looked so much like a gentleman; he was really so fresh and rosy, so
+genuinely masculine in comparison with the blase youths she was
+accustomed to see, that, forgetting his occupation, she acknowledged
+his bow with a cordiality which provoked herself the moment afterward.
+Mr. Bartlett was so much encouraged by this recognition that he
+ventured to walk beside her on their return to the hotel.  She, having
+in the impulsive frankness and forgetfulness of her nature returned his
+greeting, felt bound to suffer the temporary companionship,
+embarrassing though it was.  Fortunately none of her friends were in
+sight, nor was it probable that they knew the chiropodist in any case.
+She would be rid of him at the hotel door, and would take good care to
+avoid him in the future.
+
+"How delightful it is here!" said Mr. Bartlett, thinking more of his
+present position than of Saratoga in general.
+
+An inclination of the head was her only reply.
+
+"This is my first visit," he added; "and I can not conceive of a summer
+society gayer or more inspiring."
+
+"I have no doubt you will find it a very favorable place for your
+business," said Bertha, maliciously recalling him to his occupation, as
+she thought.
+
+"Oh, I hope so!" exclaimed the innocent Bartlett.  For was not his only
+business in Saratoga the endeavour to make her acquaintance?  And was
+he not already in a fair way to be successful?
+
+"Disgusting!" thought Bertha, as she suddenly turned and sprang up the
+steps in front of the ladies' drawing-room.  "He thinks of nothing but
+his horrid corn-plaster, or whatever it is!  I really believe he
+suspects that I need his services.  That such a man should be so brazen
+a charlatan--it is monstrous!"
+
+Such thoughts were not an auspicious commencement for the day, and
+Bertha's friends remarked that she was not in her sunniest mood.  She
+was very careful, however, not to speak of her meeting with the
+chiropodist; there would have been no end to her brother's banter.  She
+was also vexed that she could not forget his honest blue eyes, and the
+full, splendid curves of his mouth.  Indignation, she supposed, was her
+predominant emotion; but, in reality, there was a strong under-feeling
+of admiration, had she been aware of it.
+
+After dinner Mr. Bartlett, occupying the post of observation at his
+window (room No. 1346, seventh story), saw the Morris party--Bertha
+among them--enter a carriage and drive away in the direction of the
+Lake.  Half an hour later, properly attired, he mounted a handsome roan
+at the door of a livery-stable, and set off in the same direction.  He
+was an accomplished rider, his legs being somewhat shorter than was
+required by due proportion, owing to which circumstance he appeared
+taller on horseback than afoot.  Like all horsemen, he was thoroughly
+self-possessed when in the saddle; and could he but have ridden into
+drawing-rooms and dining-rooms, would have felt no trace of his
+customary timidity.
+
+Bertha noticed his figure afar off, approaching the carriage on a rapid
+trot, but made no remark.  Dick, who had a quick eye for good points
+both in man and beast, exclaimed, "By Jove! there's a fine pair of
+them!  Look at the action of that roan!  See how the fellow rises at
+the right moment without leaving his saddle! no jumping or bumping
+there!"  Mr. Bartlett came on at a staving pace, lifting his hat to the
+ladies with perfect grace as he passed.  He would have blushed could he
+have felt a single ripple of the wave of admiration which flowed after
+him.  Bertha alone was silent, more than ever provoked and disgusted
+that such a gallant outward embodiment of manhood should be connected
+with such disagreeable associations!  Had he been any thing but a
+chiropodist!  A singular feeling of shame, for his sake, prevented her
+from betraying his personality to her friends; and it came to pass that
+they innocently defended the very charlatan whom they had so ridiculed
+in the glen at Trenton from her half-disparaging observations.
+
+After all, she thought, the man may be honest in his profession, which
+he may look upon as simply that of a physician.  A pain in the toe is
+probably as troublesome as a pain in the head; and why should not one
+be cured as well as the other?  A dentist, I am sure, is a very
+respectable person; and, for my part, I would as soon operate on a
+corny toe as a carious tooth.  [I would not have you suppose, ladies,
+that Miss Morris made use of such horrid expressions in her
+conversation: I am only putting her thoughts into my own words.]
+Still, the conclusion to which she invariably arrived was, "I wish he
+were any thing else!"
+
+That evening there was a hop at the hotel.  The Morrises were
+enthusiastic dancers--even the widow, Bertha's mother, not disdaining a
+quadrille.  Mr. Bartlett, in an elegant evening dress, his eyes
+sparkling with new light, was there also.  In the course of the day he
+had encountered a Boston cousin, Miss Jane Heath, a tall, dashing girl,
+some two or three years older than himself.  She was one of the few
+women with whom he felt entirely at ease.  There was an honest,
+cousinly affection between them; and he always felt relieved, in
+society, when supported by her presence.
+
+"Now, Harry," said Jane, as they entered the room, "remember, the first
+schottisch belongs to me.  After that, I'll prove my disinterestedness
+by finding you partners."
+
+As he led her upon the floor his eyes dropped in encountering those of
+Bertha Morris, whose floating tulle was just settling itself to rest as
+she whirled out of the ranks.  Poor Bertha! had she been alone she
+could have cried.  He danced as well as he rode--the splendid, mean
+fellow! the handsome, horrid--chiropodist!  Well, it was all outward
+varnish, no doubt.  If it was true that he had relieved the nobility of
+Great Britain of their corns, he must have acquired something of the
+elegances of their society.  But such ease and grace in dancing could
+not be picked up by mere imitation--it was a born gift.  Even her
+brother Dick, who was looked upon as the highest result of fashionable
+education in such matters, was not surer or lighter of foot.
+
+An hour later Bertha, who had withdrawn from the dancers and was
+refreshing herself with the mild night air at an open window, found
+herself temporarily separated from her friends.  Mr. Bartlett had
+evidently been watching for such an opportunity, for he presently
+disengaged himself from the crowd and approached her.
+
+"You are fond of dancing, Miss Morris?" said he.
+
+"Ye-es," she answered, hesitatingly, divided between her determination
+to repel his effrontery and her inability to do so.  She turned partly
+away, and gazed steadily into the moonshine.
+
+Mr. Bartlett, however, was not to be discouraged.  "Still, even the
+most agreeable exercise will fatigue at last," he remarked.
+
+"Oh," said Bertha, rather sharply, suspecting a professional meaning in
+his words, "my feet are perfectly sound, I assure you, Sir!"
+
+It is not to be denied that he was a little surprised at the
+earnestness of an assertion which, in a playful tone, would not have
+seemed out of place.  "I think you proved that at Trenton Falls," he
+rejoined; "but will you grant me the pleasure of another test during
+the next quadrille?"
+
+"No further test is necessary, Sir.  I presume you have patients enough
+already!"  And having uttered these words as coolly as her indignation
+allowed, Bertha moved away from the window.
+
+"Patience?" said Mr. Bartlett to himself, wholly misapprehending her
+meaning; "yes, I shall have patience while there is a chance to hope.
+But why did she speak of patience?  Women, I have heard, are natural
+diplomatists, and have a thousand indirect ways of saying things which
+they do not wish to speak outright.  Could she mean to test the
+sincerity of my wish to know her.  It is not to be expected that a
+stranger, so awkwardly introduced, should be received without
+hesitation--mistrust, perhaps.  No, no, I must persevere; she would
+despise me if I did not understand her meaning."
+
+The following days were cold and rainy.  There was an end of the gay
+out-door life which offered him so many chances of meeting Miss Morris,
+and the fleeting glimpses he caught of her in the great dining-hall or
+the passage leading to the ladies' parlor were simply tantalizing.  I
+have no doubt there was a mute appeal in his eyes which must have
+troubled the young lady's conscience; for she avoided meeting his gaze.
+The knowledge of his presence made her uneasy; there was an atmosphere
+about the hotel which she would willingly have escaped.  She walked
+with the consciousness of an eye every where following her, and, in
+spite of herself, furtively sought for it.  We, who are aware of her
+mystification, may be amused at it; but imagine yourselves in the same
+situation, ladies, and you will appreciate its horrors!
+
+No, this was not longer to be endured, and so, after five or six days
+at Saratoga, the party suddenly left for Niagara.  Bertha, an only
+daughter, was a petted child, and might have had her own way much
+oftener than was really the case.  The principal use she made of her
+privilege was to follow the bent of a remarkably free, joyous, and
+confiding nature.  She was just unconventional enough to preserve an
+individuality, and thereby distinguish herself from thousands of girls
+who seem to have been cut out by a single pattern.  The sphere within
+which true womanhood moves is much wider than most women suspect.  To
+the frank, honest, and pure nature, what are called "the bounds of
+propriety" are its natural horizon-ring, moving with it, and inclosing
+it every where without restraining its freedom.
+
+We shall not be surprised to find that shortly after Miss Morris's
+departure Room No. 1346 in the Catanational Hotel had another tenant.
+Mr. Bartlett followed, as a matter of course.  He began nevertheless,
+to feel very much like a fool, and--as he afterward confessed--spent
+most of the time between Utica and the Suspension Bridge in
+deliberating whether he should seek or avoid an interview.  As if such
+discussions with one's self ever amounted to any thing!
+
+Ascertaining the lady's presence, he decided to devote his first day to
+Niagara, trusting the rest to chance.  In fact, he could not have done
+a more sensible thing, for there is a Special Chance appointed for such
+cases.  The forenoon was not over before he experienced its operations.
+Bertha, cloaked and cowled in India-rubber, stood on the hurricane deck
+of the "Maid of the Mist," as the venturesome little steamer approached
+the corner of the Horse-Shoe Fall.  Looking up through blinding spray
+at the shimmer of emerald and dazzling silver against the sky, she
+crept near a broad-shouldered figure to shelter herself from the stormy
+gusts of the Fall.  Suddenly the boat wheeled, at the very edge of the
+tremendous sheet, and swirled away from the vortex with a heave which
+threw her off her feet.  She did not fall, however; for strong arms
+caught her waist and steadied her until the motion subsided.
+
+Through the rush of the spray and the roar of the Fall she indistinctly
+heard a voice apologizing for the unceremonious way in which the arms
+had seized her.  She did not speak---fearful, in fact, of having her
+mouth filled with water--but frankly gave the gentleman her hand.  The
+monkish figure bowed low over the wet fingers, and respectfully
+withdrew.  As the mist cleared away she encountered familiar eyes.  Was
+it possible?  The Chiropodist!
+
+This discovery gave Bertha no little uneasiness.  A subtle instinct
+told her that he had followed on her account, in spite of her cornless
+feet.  Perhaps he had left a lucrative practice at Saratoga--and why?
+There was but one answer to the question, and she blushed painfully as
+she admitted its possibility.  What was to be done?  She would tell her
+brother; but no--young men are so rash and violent.  Avoid him?  That
+was difficult and embarrassing.  Ignore him?  Yes, as much as possible,
+and, if necessary, frankly tell him that she could not accept his
+acquaintance.  On the whole, this course seemed best, though an
+involuntary sympathy with her victim made her wish that it were all
+over.
+
+In the afternoon Mrs. Morris, as usual, took her summer siesta; Dick
+had found a friend, and was whirling somewhere behind a pair of fast
+horses; and, finally, Bertha, bored by the society in the ladies'
+parlor, took her hat and a book and walked over to Goat Island.  She
+made the circuit of its forests and flashing water views, and finally
+selected a shady seat on its western side, whence she could look out on
+the foamy stairs of the Rapids.  The unnecessary book lay in her lap; a
+more wonderful book than any printed volume lay open before her.
+
+Who shall dare to interpret the day-dream of a maiden?  Soothed by the
+mellow roar of the waters, fascinated by the momentary leaps of spray
+from the fluted, shell-shaped hollows of the descending waves, and
+freshened by the wind that blew from the cool Canadian shore, she
+nursed her wild weeds of fancy till they blossomed into brighter than
+garden-flowers.  Meanwhile a thunder-cloud rose, dark and swift, in the
+west.  The menaces of its coming were unheard, and Bertha was first
+recalled to consciousness by the sudden blast of cold wind that
+precedes the ram.
+
+When she looked up, the gray depth of storm already arched high over
+the Canadian woods, and big drops began to rap on the shingly bank
+below her.  A little further down was a summer-house--open to the west,
+it is true, but it offered the only chance of shelter within view.  She
+had barely reached it before a heavy peal of thunder shattered the
+bolts of the rain, and it rushed down in an overwhelming flood.
+Mounted on the bench and crouched in the least exposed corner, she was
+endeavoring, with but partial success, to shelter herself from the
+driving flood, when a man, coming from the opposite end of the island,
+rushed up at full speed.
+
+"Here," he panted, "Miss Morris, take this umbrella!  I saw you at a
+distance, and made haste to reach you.  I hope you're not wet."  The
+spacious umbrella was instantly clapped over her, and the inevitable
+Chiropodist placed himself in front to steady it, fully exposed to the
+rain.
+
+Bertha was not proof against this gallant self-sacrifice.  In the
+surprise of the storm--the roar of which, mingled with that of the
+Fall, made a continuous awful peal--the companionship of any human
+being was a relief, and she felt grateful for Professor Hurlbut's
+arrival.  Chiropodist though he was, he must not suffer for her sake.
+
+"Here!" said she, lifting the umbrella, "it will shelter us both.
+Quick!  I insist upon it:" seeing that he hesitated.
+
+There was really no time for parley, for every drop pierced him to the
+skin, and the next moment found him planted before her, interposing a
+double shield.  His tender anxiety for her sake quite softened Bertha.
+How ungrateful she had been!
+
+"This is the second time I am obliged to you to-day, Sir," said she.
+"I am sorry that I have unintentionally given you trouble."
+
+"Oh, Miss Morris," cried the delighted Bartlett, "don't mention it!
+It's nothing; I am quite amphibious, you know."
+
+"You might be now in a place of shelter but for me," she answered,
+penitently.
+
+"I'd rather be here than any where else!" he exclaimed, in a burst of
+candor which quite overleaped the barrier of self-possession and came
+down on the other side.  "If you would allow me to be your friend, Miss
+Morris--if you would permit me to--to speak with you now and then;
+if--if--"  Here he paused, not knowing precisely what more to say, yet
+feeling that he had already said enough to make his meaning clear.
+
+Bertha was cruelly embarrassed, but only for a moment.  Professor
+Hurlbut had at least been frank and honest in his avowal--she felt his
+sincerity through and through--and he deserved equal honesty at her
+hands.
+
+"I am your debtor," said she, in an uncertain voice; "and you have a
+right to expect gratitude, at least, from me.  I can not, therefore,
+refuse your acquaintance, though, as you know, your--your occupation
+would be considered objectionable by many persons."
+
+"My occupation!"
+
+"Your profession, then.  I must candidly confess that I have a
+prejudice--a foolish one, perhaps, against it."
+
+"My profession!" cried the astonished Bartlett; "why, I have none!"
+
+"Well--it _is_ scarcely to be called a 'profession,' but it is always
+liable to the charge of charlatanism: pardon me the word.  And it may
+be ridiculed in so many ways.  I wish, for your sake--for I believe you
+to be capable of better things--that you would adopt some other
+business."
+
+Mr. Bartlett's amazement was now beyond all bounds, "Good Heavens!" he
+exclaimed, "Miss Morris, what do you mean?"
+
+Starting up from the bench as he uttered these words he jostled
+Bertha's book from her hand.  The leaves parted in falling, and a large
+card, escaping from between them, fluttered down upon the floor.  He
+picked it up and restored it to her, with the book.
+
+"There!" she answered, giving the card back again, "there is what I
+mean!  Must I give you your own card in order to acquaint you with your
+own business?"
+
+Mr. Bartlett looked at it for a second in blank amazement; then, like a
+flash of lightning, the whole course of the misunderstanding flashed
+across his mind.  He burst--I am ashamed to say--into a tremendous
+paroxysm of mingled tears and laughter: were he not so strong and
+masculine a man, I should say, "hysterics."  In vain he struggled to
+find words.  At every attempt a fresh convulsion of laughter seized
+him, and tears, mingled with rain, flowed down his cheeks.
+
+Bertha began to be alarmed at this strange and unexpected convulsion.
+"Professor Hurlbut!" said she, "what is the matter?"
+
+"Professor Hurlbut!" he repeated, in a faint, scarcely audible scream;
+then, striving to suppress his uncontrollable fit of delight and
+comical surprise, he sank upon the bench at her feet, shaking from head
+to foot with the effort.
+
+"A-a-ah!" he at last panted forth, as if heaving an atlas-load from his
+heart, and stood erect before her.  With his face still flushed and
+eyes sparkling he was as handsome an embodiment of youth and life as
+one could wish to see.  In two words he explained to her the mistake,
+on learning which Bertha blushed deeply, saying: "How could I ever have
+supposed it!"  And then, reflecting upon the inferences which could be
+drawn from such an expression, became suddenly shy and silent.
+
+Of course she accepted Mr. Bartlett's escort to the hotel when the rain
+was over, and he was presented to the agonised mother, who hailed him
+as a deliverer of her daughter from untold dangers, and privately
+remarked, afterward, to the latter: "Upon my word, a very nice young
+man, my dear!" Dick's commendation was no less emphatic though
+differently expressed: "A good fellow! well made in the shoulders and
+flanks: fine action, but wants a little training!"
+
+By this time, ladies, you have probably guessed the conclusion.  My
+story would neither be agreeable nor true (I am relating facts) if they
+were not married, and did not have two children, and live happy ever
+after.  Married they were, in the course of time, and happy they also
+are, for I visit them now and then.
+
+One thing I had nearly forgotten.  When Mrs. Bartlett chooses to tease
+her husband in that playful way so delightful to married lovers, she
+invariably calls him "Professor Hurlbut," while he retorts with "Miss
+Lawrence, of South Carolina."  Moreover, in Mrs. B.'s confidential
+little boudoir, over her work-stand, hangs a neatly-framed card,
+whereon you may read:
+
+           PROFESSOR HURLBUT,
+              Chiropodist
+  To her Majesty Queen Victoria, and the
+        Nobility of Great Britain.
+
+
+
+
+"MR. DOOLEY ON CORPORAL PUNISHMENT"
+
+By F. P. DUNNE
+
+Copyright 1907 by H. H. McClure & Co.
+
+
+"Well, sir," said Mr. Dooley, "I see that some school-teachers down
+East have been petitioning to be allowed to slug th' young."
+
+"How's that?" asked Mr. Hennessy.
+
+"Well," said Mr. Dooley "they say they can't do anything with these
+tender little growths onless they use a club.  They want the boord iv
+iddycation to restore what's called corporal punishment--that is th'
+fun iv lickin' some wan that can't fight back.  Says wan iv thim: 'Th'
+little wans undher our care are far fr'm bein' th' small angels that
+they look.  As a matther iv fact they are rebellyous monsthers that
+must be suppressed be vigorous an',' says he, 'stern measures.  Is it
+right,' says he, 'that us school masthers shud daily risk our lives at
+th' hands iv these feerocious an' tigerish inimies iv human s'ciety
+without havin' a chance to pound thim?  Yisterdah a goolden haired imp
+iv perdition placed a tack in me chair.  To-day I found a dead rat in
+the desk.  At times they write opprobyous epithets about me on th'
+blackboard; at other times crood but pinted carrycachures.  Nawthin'
+will conthrol thim.  They hurl the murdherous spitball.  They pull th'
+braid iv th' little girl.  They fire baseballs through th' windows.
+Sometimes lumps iv chewin' gum are found undher their desks where they
+have stuck thim f'r further use.  They shuffle their feet whin I'm
+narvous.  They look around thim when they think I'm not lookin'.  They
+pass notes grossly insultin' each other.  Moral suasion does no good.
+I have thried writin' to their parents askin' thim to cripple their
+offspring, an' th' parents have come over an' offered to fight me.
+I've thried keepin' thim afther school, makin' thim write compositions
+an' shakin' th' milk teeth out iv thim, but to no avail.  Me opinyon is
+that th' av'rage small boy is a threecherous, dangerous crather like
+th' Apachy Indyan' an' that th' on'y thing to do with him is to slam
+him with a wagon spoke,' says he.
+
+"An th' boord iv iddycation is discussin' th' petition.  It can't quite
+make up its mind whether Solomon wasn't right.  Solomon said, accordin'
+to Hogan, spile th' rod an' save th' child.  He must've had a large
+famly if he was annywhere near Tiddy Rosenfelt's law iv av'rages.  I
+don't see how he cud've spared time f'r writin' from correctin' his
+fam'ly.  He must've set up nights.  Annyhow, th' boord iv iddycation is
+discussin' whether he was right or not.  I don't know mys'lf.  All I
+know is that if I was a life insurance canvasser or a coal dealer or
+something else that made me illegible to be a mimber iv a boord iv
+iddycation, an' an able-bodied man six feet tall come to me f'r
+permission to whale a boy three feet tall, I'd say: 'I don't know
+whether ye are compitint.  Punishing people requires special thrainin'.
+It ain't iv'rybody that's suited f'r th' job.  Ye might bungle it.
+Just take off ye'er coat an' vest an' step into th' next room an' be
+examined.'  An' in th' next room th' ambitious iddycator wud find James
+J. Jeffreys or some other akely efficient expert ready f'r him an' if
+he come back alive he'd have a certy-ficate entitlin' him to whack anny
+little boy he met--except mine.
+
+"Sure there'd be very few people to say they believed in corporal
+punishment if corporal punishment was gin'ral.  I wudden't give anny
+wan th' right to lick a child that wanted to lick a child.  No wan shud
+be licked till he's too old to take a licking.  If it's right to larrup
+an infant iv eight, why ain't it right to larrup wan iv eighteen?
+Supposin' Prisidint Hadley iv Yale see that th' left tackle or th' half
+back iv th' football team wasn't behavin' right.  He'd been caught
+blowin' a pea shooter at th' pro-fissor iv iliminthry chemisthry, or
+pullin' th' dure bell iv th' pro-fissor iv dogmatic theosophy.  He
+don't know any different.  He's not supposed to ralize th' distinction
+between right an' wrong yet.  Does Prisidint Hadley grab th' child be
+th' ear an' conduct him to a corner iv th' schoolroom an wallup him?
+Ye bet he does not.  Prisidint Hadley may be a bold man in raisin'
+money or thranslatin' Homer, but he knows th' diff'rence between
+courage and sheer recklessness.  If he thried to convince this young
+idea how to shoot in this careless way ye'd read in the pa-apers that
+th' fire department was thryin' to rescue Prisidint Hadley fr'm th'
+roof iv th' buildin' but he declined to come down.
+
+"But what wud ye do with a child that refused to obey ye?" demanded Mr.
+Hennessy.
+
+"Not bein' ayther a parent or an iddycator I nivir had such a child,"
+said Mr. Dooley.  "I don't know what I'd do if I was.  Th' on'y thing I
+wudden't do wud be to hit him if he cudden't hit back, an' thin I'd
+think twice about it.  Th' older I grow th' more things there are I
+know I don't know annything about.  An' wan iv thim is childher.  I
+can't figure thim out at all.
+
+"What d'ye know about thim little wans that ye have so carefully reared
+be lavin' thim in th' mornin' befure they got up an' losin' ye'er
+temper with at night whin ye come home fr'm wurruk?  They don't know ye
+an' ye don't know thim.  Ye'll niver know till 'tis too late.  I've
+often wondhered what a little boy thinks about us that call oursilves
+grown up because we can't grow anny more.  We wake him up in th'
+mornin' whin he wants to sleep.  We make him wash his face whin he
+knows it don't need washin' thin as much as it will later an' we sind
+him back to comb his hair in a way he don't approve iv at all.  We fire
+him off to school just about th' time iv day whin anny wan ought to be
+out iv dures.  He trudges off to a brick buildin' an' a tired teacher
+tells him a lot iv things he hasn't anny inthrest in at all, like how
+manny times sivin goes into a hundhred an' nine an' who was King iv
+England in thirteen twinty-two an' where is Kazabazoo on the map.  He
+has to set there most iv th' pleasant part iv th' day with sixty other
+kids an' ivry time be thries to do annything that seems right to him
+like jabbin' a frind with a pin or carvin' his name on the desk, th'
+sthrange lady or gintleman that acts as his keeper swoops down on him
+an' makes him feel like a criminal.  To'rds evenin' if he's been good
+an' repressed all his nacharal instincts he's allowed to go home an'
+chop some wood.  Whin he's done that an' has just managed to get a few
+iv his frinds together an' they're beginnin' to get up interest in th'
+spoort iv throwin' bricks down into a Chinese laundhry his little
+sister comes out an' tells him he's wanted at home.  He instinctively
+pulls her hair an' goes in to study his lessons so that he'll be able
+to-morrow to answer some ridiklous questions that are goin' to be asked
+him.  Afther a while ye come home an' greet him with ye'er usual glare
+an' ye have supper together.  Ye do most iv th' talkin', which ain't
+much.  If he thries to cut in with somethin' that intelligent people
+ought to talk about ye stop him with a frown.  Afther supper he's
+allowed to study some more, an' whin he's finished just as th' night
+begins to look good he's fired off to bed an' th' light is taken away
+fr'm him an' he sees ghosts an' hobgoberlins in th' dark an' th' next
+he knows he's hauled out iv bed an' made to wash his face again.
+
+"An' so it goes.  If he don't do anny iv these things or if he doesn't
+do thim th' way ye think is th' right way some wan hits him or wants
+to.  Talk about happy childhood.  How wud ye like to have twinty or
+thirty people issuin' foolish ordhers to ye, makin' ye do things ye
+didn't want to do, an' niver undherstandin' at all why it was so?  Tis
+like livin' on this earth an' bein' ruled by the inhabitants iv Mars.
+He has his wurruld, ye can bet on that, an' 'tis a mighty important
+wurruld.  Who knows why a kid wud rather ate potatoes cooked nice an'
+black on a fire made of sthraw an' old boots thin th' delicious oatmeal
+so carefully an' so often prepared f'r him be his kind parents?  Who
+knows why he thinks a dark hole undher a sidewalk is a robbers' cave?
+Who knows why he likes to collect in wan pocket a ball iv twine, glass
+marbles, chewin' gum, a dead sparrow an' half a lemon?  Who knows what
+his seasons are?  They are not mine, an' they're not ye'ers, but he
+goes as reg'lar fr'm top time to marble time an' fr'm marble time to
+kite time as we go fr'm summer to autumn an' autumn to winter.  To-day
+he's thryin' to annihilate another boy's stick top with his; to-morrow
+he's thrying to sail a kite out iv a tillygraft wire.  Who knows why he
+does it?
+
+"Faith we know nawthin' about him an' he knows nawthin' about us.  I
+can raymimber whin I was a little boy but I can't raymimber how I was a
+little boy.  I call back 's though it was yisterdah th' things I did,
+but why I did thim I don't know.  Faith, if I cud look for'ard to th'
+things I've done I cud no more aisily explain why I was goin' to do
+thim.  Maybe we're both wrong in the way we look at each other--us an'
+th' childher.  We think we've grown up an' they don't guess that we're
+childher.  If they knew us betther they'd not be so surprised at our
+actions an' wudden't foorce us to hit thim.  Whin ye issued some
+foolish ordher to ye'er little boy he'd say: 'Pah-pah is fractious
+to-day.  Don't ye think he ought to have some castor ile?'"
+
+"It's a wise child that knows his own father," said Mr. Hennessy.
+
+"It's a happy child that doesn't," said Mr. Dooley.
+
+
+
+
+OVER A WOOD FIRE
+
+DONALD G. MITCHELL
+
+
+I have got a quiet farmhouse in the country, a very humble place, to be
+sure, tenanted by a worthy enough man of the old New England stamp,
+where I sometimes go for a day or two in the winter, to look over the
+farm accounts and to see how the stock is thriving on the winter's keep.
+
+One side the door, as you enter from the porch, is a little parlor,
+scarce twelve feet by ten, with a cozy-looking fireplace, a heavy oak
+floor, a couple of armchairs, and a brown table with carved lions'
+feet.  Out of this room opens a little cabinet, only big enough for a
+broad bachelor bedstead, where I sleep upon feathers, and wake in the
+morning with my eye upon a saucy colored lithographic print of some
+fancy "Bessy."
+
+It happens to be the only house in the world of which I am _bona fide_
+owner, and I take a vast deal of comfort in treating it just as I
+choose.  I manage to break some article of furniture almost every time
+I pay it a visit; and if I cannot open the window readily of a morning,
+to breathe the fresh air, I knock out a pane or two of glass with my
+boot.  I lean against the walls in a very old armchair there is on the
+premises, and scarce ever fail to worry such a hole in the plastering
+as would set me down for a round charge for damages in town, or make a
+prim housewife fret herself into a raging fever.  I laugh out loud with
+myself, in my big armchair, when I think that I am neither afraid of
+one nor the other.
+
+As for the fire, I keep the little hearth so hot as to warm half the
+cellar below, and the whole space between the jams roars for two hours
+together with white flame.  To be sure, the windows are not very tight,
+between broken panes and bad joints, so that the fire, large as it is,
+is by no means an extravagant comfort.
+
+As night approaches, I have a huge pile of oak and hickory placed
+beside the hearth; I put out the tallow candle on the mantel (using the
+family snuffers, with one leg broken), then, drawing my chair directly
+in front of the blazing wood, and setting one foot on each of the old
+iron fire-dogs (until they grow too warm), I dispose myself for an
+evening of such sober and thoughtful quietude as I believe, on my soul,
+that very few of my fellow men have the good fortune to enjoy.
+
+My tenant, meantime, in the other room, I can hear now and then--though
+there is a thick stone chimney, and broad entry between--multiplying
+contrivances with his wife to put two babies to sleep.  This occupies
+them, I should say, usually an hour, though my only measure of time
+(for I never carry a watch into the country) is the blaze of my fire.
+By ten, or thereabouts, my stock of wood is nearly exhausted; I pile
+upon the hot coals what remains, and sit watching how it kindles, and
+blazes, and goes out---even like our joys--and then slip by the light
+of the embers into my bed, where I luxuriate in such sound and
+healthful slumber as only such rattling window-frames and country air
+can supply.
+
+But to return: the other evening--it happened to be on my last visit to
+my farmhouse--when I had exhausted all the ordinary rural topics of
+thought, had formed all sorts of conjectures as to the income of the
+year; had planned a new wall around one lot, and the clearing up of
+another, now covered with patriarchal wood; and wondered if the little
+rickety house would not be after all a snug enough box to live and to
+die in--I fell on a sudden into such an unprecedented line of thought,
+which took such deep hold of my sympathies--sometimes even starting
+tears--that I determined, the next day, to set as much of it as I could
+recall on paper.
+
+Something--it may have been the home-looking blaze (I am a bachelor of,
+say, six-and-twenty), or possibly a plaintive cry of the baby in my
+tenant's room, had suggested to me the thought of--marriage.
+
+I piled upon the heated fire-dogs the last armful of my wood; "and
+now," said I, bracing myself courageously between the arms of my chair,
+"I'll not flinch; I'll pursue the thought wherever it leads, though it
+leads me to the d--(I am apt to be hasty)--at least," continued I,
+softening, "until my fire is out."
+
+The wood was green, and at first showed no disposition to blaze.  It
+smoked furiously.  Smoke, thought I, always goes before blaze; and so
+does doubt go before decision: and my reverie, from that very
+starting-point, slipped into this shape:
+
+  I.  SMOKE--SIGNIFYING DOUBT
+
+
+A wife? thought I.  Yes, a wife.
+
+And why?
+
+And pray, my dear sir, why not--why?  Why not doubt? why not hesitate;
+why not tremble?
+
+Does a man buy a ticket in a lottery--a poor man whose whole earnings
+go in to secure the ticket--without trembling, hesitating, and doubting?
+
+Can a man stake his bachelor respectability, his independence, and
+comfort, upon the die of absorbing, unchanging, relentless marriage,
+without trembling at the venture?
+
+Shall a man who has been free to chase his fancies over the wide world,
+without let or hindrance, shut himself up to marriage-ship, within four
+walls called home, that are to claim him, his time, his trouble, and
+his tears, thenceforward forevermore, without doubts thick, and
+thick-coming as smoke?
+
+Shall he who has been hitherto a mere observer of other men's cares and
+business--moving off where they made him sick of heart, approaching
+whenever and wherever they made him gleeful--shall he now undertake
+administration of just such cares and business, without qualms?  Shall
+he, whose whole life has been but a nimble succession of escapes from
+trifling difficulties, now broach without doubtings--that matrimony,
+where if difficulty beset him there is no escape?  Shall this brain of
+mine, careless-working, never tired with idleness, feeding on long
+vagaries and high, gigantic castles, dreaming out beatitudes hour by
+hour--turn itself at length to such dull task-work as thinking out a
+livelihood for wife and children?
+
+Where thenceforward will be those sunny dreams, in which I have warmed
+my fancies, and my heart, and lighted my eye with crystal?  This very
+marriage, which a brilliant working imagination has invested time and
+again with brightness and delight, can serve no longer as a mine for
+teeming fancy.  All, alas! will be gone--reduced to the dull standard
+of the actual.  No more room for intrepid forays of imagination--no
+more gorgeous realm-making.  All will be over!
+
+Why not, I thought, go on dreaming?
+
+Can any wife be prettier than an after-dinner fancy, idle and yet
+vivid, can paint for you?  Can any children make less noise than the
+little rosy-cheeked ones who have no existence except in the omnium
+gatherum of your own brain?  Can any housewife be more unexceptionable
+than she who goes sweeping daintily the cobwebs that gather in your
+dreams?  Can any domestic larder be better stocked than the private
+larder of your head dozing on a cushioned chair-back at Delmonico's?
+Can any family purse be better filled than the exceeding plump one you
+dream of, after reading such pleasant books as Munchausen or Typee?
+
+But if, after all, it must be--duty, or what-not, making
+provocation--what then?  And I clapped my feet hard against the
+fire-dogs, and leaned back, and turned my face to the ceiling, as much
+as to say, And where on earth, then, shall a poor devil look for a wife?
+
+Somebody says--Lyttleton or Shaftesbury, I think--that "marriages would
+be happier if they were all arranged by the Lord Chancellor."
+Unfortunately, we have no Lord Chancellor to make this commutation of
+our misery.
+
+Shall a man then scour the country on a mule's back, like honest Gil
+Blas of Santillane? or shall he make application to some such
+intervening providence as Madame St. Marc, who, as I see by the Presse,
+manages these matters to one's hand, for some five per cent on the
+fortunes of the parties?
+
+I have trouted when the brook was so low and the sky so hot that I
+might as well have thrown my fly upon the turnpike; and I have hunted
+hare at noon, and woodcock in snowtime--never despairing, scarce
+doubting; but for a poor hunter of his kind, without traps or snares,
+or any aid of police or constabulary, to traverse the world, where are
+swarming, on a moderate computation, some three hundred and odd
+millions of unmarried women, for a single capture--irremediable,
+unchangeable--and yet a capture which by strange metonymy, not laid
+down in the books, is very apt to turn captor into captive and make
+game of hunter--all this, surely, surely may make a man shrug with
+doubt!
+
+Then, again, there are the plaguy wife's relations.  Who knows how many
+third, fourth, or fifth cousins will appear at careless complimentary
+intervals long after you had settled into the placid belief that all
+congratulatory visits were at an end?  How many twisted-headed brothers
+will be putting in their advice, as a friend to Peggy?
+
+How many maiden aunts will come to spend a month or two with their
+"dear Peggy," and want to know every tea-time "if she isn't a dear love
+of a wife?"  Then, dear father-in-law will beg (taking dear Peggy's
+hand in his) to give a little wholesome counsel; and will be very sure
+to advise just the contrary of what you had determined to undertake.
+And dear mamma-in-law must set her nose into Peggy's cupboard, and
+insist upon having the key to your own private locker in the wainscot.
+
+Then, perhaps, there is a little bevy of dirty-nosed nephews who come
+to spend the holidays, and eat up your East India sweetmeats; and who
+are forever tramping over your head or raising the old Harry below,
+while you are busy with your clients.  Last, and worse, is some fidgety
+old uncle, forever too cold or too hot, who vexes you with his
+patronizing airs, and impudently kisses his little Peggy!
+
+That could be borne, however; for perhaps he has promised his fortune
+to Peggy.  Peggy, then, will be rich (and the thought made me rub my
+shins, which were now getting comfortably warm upon the fire-dogs).
+Then she will be forever talking of _her_ fortune; and pleasantly
+reminding you; on occasion of a favorite purchase, how lucky that _she_
+had the means; and dropping hints about economy; and buying very
+extravagant Paisleys.
+
+She will annoy you by looking over the stock-list at breakfast-time,
+and mention quite carelessly to your clients that she is interested in
+_such_ or such a speculation.
+
+She will be provokingly silent when you hint to a tradesman that you
+have not the money by you for his small bill--in short, she will tear
+the life out of you, making you pay in righteous retribution of
+annoyance, grief, vexation, shame, and sickness of heart, for the
+superlative folly of "marrying rich."
+
+But if not rich, then poor.  Bah! the thought made me stir the coals;
+but there was still no blaze.  The paltry earnings you are able to
+wring out of clients by the sweat of your brow will now be all _our_
+income; you will be pestered for pin-money, and pestered with your poor
+wife's relations.  Ten to one, she will stickle about taste--"Sir
+Visto's"--and want to make this so pretty, and that so charming, if she
+_only_ had the means; and is sure Paul (a kiss) can't deny his little
+Peggy such a trifling sum, and all for the common benefit.
+
+Then she, for one, means that _her_ children sha'n't go a-begging for
+clothes--and another pull at the purse.  Trust a poor mother to dress
+her children in finery!
+
+Perhaps she is ugly--not noticeable at first, but growing on her, and
+(what is worse) growing faster on you.  You wonder why you didn't see
+that vulgar nose long ago; and that lip--it is very strange, you think,
+that you ever thought it pretty.  And then, to come to breakfast with
+her hair looking as it does, and you not so much as daring to say,
+"Peggy, _do_ brush your hair!"  Her foot, too--not very bad when
+decently _chausse_; but now since she's married she does wear such
+infernal slippers!  And yet for all this, to be prigging up for an
+hour, when any of my old chums come to dine with me!
+
+"Bless your kind hearts, my dear fellows," said I, thrusting the tongs
+into the coals and speaking out loud, as if my voice could reach from
+Virginia to Paris, "not married yet!"
+
+Perhaps Peggy is pretty enough, only shrewish.
+
+No matter for cold coffee; you should have been up before.
+
+What sad, thin, poorly cooked chops, to eat with your rolls!
+
+She thinks they are very good, and wonders how you can set such an
+example to your children.
+
+The butter is nauseating.
+
+She has no other, and hopes you'll not raise a storm about butter a
+little turned.  I think I see myself, ruminated I, sitting meekly at
+table, scarce daring to lift up my eyes, utterly fagged out with some
+quarrel of yesterday, choking down detestably sour muffins, that my
+wife thinks are "delicious"--slipping in dried mouthfuls of burnt ham
+off the side of my forktines--slipping off my chair sideways at the
+end, and slipping out with my hat between my knees, to business, and
+never feeling myself a competent, sound-minded man till the oak door is
+between me and Peggy.
+
+"Ha-ha! not yet!" said I, and in so earnest a tone that my dog started
+to his feet, cocked his eye to have a good look into my face, met my
+smile of triumph with an amiable wag of the tail, and curled up again
+in the corner.
+
+Again, Peggy is rich enough, well enough, mild enough, only she doesn't
+care a fig for you.  She has married you because father or grandfather
+thought the match eligible, and because she didn't wish to disoblige
+them.  Besides, she didn't positively hate you, and thought you were a
+respectable enough young person; she has told you so repeatedly at
+dinner.  She wonders you like to read poetry; she wishes you would buy
+her a good cook-book; and insists upon your making your will at the
+birth of the first baby.
+
+She thinks Captain So-and-So a splendid-looking fellow, and wishes you
+would trim up a little, were it only for appearance' sake.
+
+You need not hurry up from the office so early at night, she, bless her
+dear heart! does not feel lonely.  You read to her a love tale: she
+interrupts the pathetic parts with directions to her seamstress.  You
+read of marriages: she sighs, and asks if Captain So-and-So has left
+town.  She hates to be mewed up in a cottage, or between brick walls;
+she does so love the Springs!
+
+But, again, Peggy loves you--at least she swears it, with her hand on
+"The Sorrows of Werter."  She has pin-money which she spends for the
+"Literary World" and the "Friends in Council."  She is not bad-looking,
+save a bit too much of forehead; nor is she sluttish, unless a
+_neglige_ till three o'clock, and an ink-stain on the forefinger be
+sluttish; but then she is such a sad blue!
+
+You never fancied, when you saw her buried in a three-volume novel,
+that it was anything more than a girlish vagary; and when she quoted
+Latin, you thought innocently that she had a capital memory for her
+samplers.
+
+But to be bored eternally about divine Dante and funny Goldoni is too
+bad.  Your copy of Tasso, a treasure print of 1680, is all bethumbed
+and dog's-eared, and spotted with baby gruel.  Even your Seneca--an
+Elzevir--is all sweaty with handling.  She adores La Fontaine, reads
+Balzac with a kind of artist scowl, and will not let Greek alone.
+
+You hint at broken rest and an aching head at breakfast, and she will
+fling you a scrap of Anthology--in lien of the camphor-bottle--or chant
+the [Greek] _alai alai_ of tragic chorus.
+
+The nurse is getting dinner; you are holding the baby; Peggy is reading
+Bruyere.
+
+The fire smoked thick as pitch, and puffed out little clouds over the
+chimney-piece.  I gave the fore-stick a kick; at the thought of Peggy,
+baby, and Bruyere.
+
+Suddenly the flame flickered bluely athwart the smoke--caught at a twig
+below--rolled round the mossy oak-stick--twined among the crackling
+tree-limbs--mounted--lit up the whole body of smoke, and blazed out
+cheerily and bright.  Doubt vanished with smoke, and hope began with
+flame.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of International Short Stories, by Various
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