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*/ - position: absolute; - color: #A9A9A9; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - font-weight: normal; - font-style: normal; - text-align: right; - text-indent: .5em; -} - -.blockquot { - margin-left: 5%; - margin-right: 5%; -} - -.bbox {margin: 2em 20% 2em 20%; - padding: .5em; - border: solid 2px;} - -.bbox p {margin-top: .1em; margin-bottom: .1em;} - -.bbox2 {border: solid 2px; - margin: 0 10% 0 10%; - padding: .5em;} - -.bbox2a {border-left: solid 2px; - border-right: solid 2px; - margin: 0 10% 0 10%; - padding: 1.5em;} - -.center {text-align: center; text-indent: 0em;} -.right {text-align: right; margin-right: 1em;} -.rt {text-align: right; margin: -1em 1em 0 0; font-size: 60%;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -.wsp {word-spacing: 0.3em;} -.lsp {letter-spacing: 0.15em;} - -.caption {font-weight: normal; - font-size: 80%; - word-spacing: .3em; - padding-bottom: 0.50em;} - -.antiqua {font-family: Diploma, England, Gothic, serif;} - -.pg-brk {page-break-before: always;} - -/* Images */ -img {border: none; max-width: 100%} - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - padding-top: 1em; - padding-bottom: 1em; - text-align: center; - page-break-inside: avoid; -} -.figcenterx { - margin: auto; - padding-top: .1em; - padding-bottom: .1em; - text-align: center; -} - - -/* Poetry */ -.poetry-container {text-align: center; font-size: small;} - -.poetry {display: inline-block; text-align: left;} - -.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em; - margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 0em;} -.poetry .verseq {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 2.6em; - margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 0em;} - -@media handheld { - .poetry {display: block; margin-left: 4.5em;} -} - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote { - background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:90%; - padding:0.5em; - margin-top:5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; -} - -.transnote p {text-indent: 0em;} - - </style> - </head> - -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of 'Tilda Jane, by Marshall Saunders - -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/license - - -Title: 'Tilda Jane - An Orphan in Search of a Home - -Author: Marshall Saunders - -Illustrator: Clifford Carleton - -Release Date: May 7, 2016 [EBook #52018] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'TILDA JANE *** - - - - -Produced by David Edwards, John Campbell and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - - -<div class="transnote"> -<p><strong>TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE</strong></p> - -<p>Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been -corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within -the text and consultation of external sources.</p> - -<p>More detail can be found at the <a href="#TN">end of the book.</a></p> -</div> - - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="600" alt="" /> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p class="p6" /> -<h1>'TILDA JANE</h1> -<p class="p6" /> - - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p class="p6" /> -<div class="bbox"> - -<p class="pfs90">Works of</p> - -<p class="pfs120">Marshall Saunders</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/sep1.jpg" width="20" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>Rose à Charlitte</p> -<p>Her Sailor</p> -<p>Deficient Saints</p> -<p class="negin1x">For His Country and Grandmother and <br /> -the Crow</p> -<p>'Tilda Jane</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 20px;"> -<img src="images/sep1.jpg" width="20" height="22" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="pfs90">L. C. PAGE & COMPANY,</p> - -<p class="pfs90">Publishers</p> - -<p class="pfs90">200 Summer Street, Boston, Mass.</p> - -</div> - - -<div class="figcenter pg-brk"> -<a name="FP" id="FP"></a> -<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="500" alt="" /> -<div class="caption">"SHE SPELLED OUT THE INFORMATION, 'I AM AN ORPHAN.'" -<p class="right padr6">(<em>See <a href="#Page_80">page 80</a></em>)</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="p4" /> -<div class="tpage"> - -<p class="xxl lsp">'TILDA JANE</p> - -<p class="large">AN ORPHAN IN SEARCH OF A HOME</p> -<br /> -<p class="medium"><em>A Story for Boys and Girls</em></p> -<br /> - -<p> -<span class="xs">BY</span><br /> -<span class="large lsp">MARSHALL SAUNDERS</span><br /> -<span class="xs wsp">AUTHOR OF "BEAUTIFUL JOE," "FOR HIS COUNTRY,"<br /> -"ROSE À CHARLITTE," "HER SAILOR,"<br /> -"DEFICIENT SAINTS," ETC.</span></p> -<br /> - -<p class="antiqua">Illustrated by</p> -<p>CLIFFORD CARLETON</p> -<p class="small"><em>By courtesy of The Youth's Companion</em></p> -<br /> - -<p><span class="small">"My brother, when thou seest a poor man,<br /> -behold in him a mirror of the Lord."<br /> -<span class="pad6 smcap">—St. Francis of Assisi.</span></span></p> -<br /> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/colophon.jpg" width="100" alt="" /> -</div> - -<br /> -<p>BOSTON</p> -<p class="medium wsp">L. C. PAGE & COMPANY</p> -<p class="medium">1901</p> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="p6"></div> -<div class="tpage"> - -<p> -<em>Copyright, 1901</em><br /> -<span class="smcap">By Perry Mason Company</span><br /> -<br /> -<em>Copyright, 1901</em><br /> -<span class="smcap">By L. C. Page & Company</span><br /> -(Incorporated)<br /> -<br /> -<em>All rights reserved</em><br /> -</p> - -<div class="p6"></div> -<p class="antiqua">Colonial Press</p> -<p class="fs80">Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.<br /> -Boston, Mass., U. S. A.</p> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="p6"></div> -<div class="tpage wsp"> - -<p> -<span class="xs">I DEDICATE THIS STORY TO</span><br /> -<span class="small">EMILE HUGUENIN, JEAN BRUN,<br /> -GERALD MUIR, SANFORD ROTHENBURG,<br /> -HARRY KRUGER, MAUGHS BROWN,</span><br /> -<span class="xs">AND</span><br /> -<span class="small">ROBBIE MACLEAN,</span><br /> -<span class="xs">BOYS OF BELMONT SCHOOL WHO USED TO GATHER ROUND ME<br /> -ON SUNDAY AFTERNOONS AND BEG FOR A MANUSCRIPT<br /> -READING OF THE TRIALS OF MY ORPHAN<br /> -IN SEARCH OF A HOME.</span> -</p> -</div> - - -<p class="p6" /> -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p class="p6" /> - -<div class="blockquot fs90"> - -<p><em>Owing to the exigencies of serial publication, the story of -"'Tilda Jane," as it appeared in The Youth's Companion, was -somewhat condensed. In the present version the omitted portions -have been restored, and the story published in its original -form.</em></p></div> - - -<p class="p6" /> -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="p6" /> - -<h2 class="xl"><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS.</a></h2> -<hr class="r10" /> - -<div class="center smcap"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="90%" summary="Table of Contents"> -<tr><td class="tdr xs">CHAPTER</td><td></td><td class="tdr xs">PAGE</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">I.</td><td class="tdl">A Creamery Shark</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">II.</td><td class="tdl">Even Sharks Have Tender Hearts</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">III.</td><td class="tdl">The Story of Her Life</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">IV.</td><td class="tdl">Unstable as Water</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">V.</td><td class="tdl">Another Adventure</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_61">61</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">VI.</td><td class="tdl">Deaf and Dumb</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">VII.</td><td class="tdl">Clearing up a Mistake</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_85">85</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">VIII.</td><td class="tdl">A Third Running Away</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">IX.</td><td class="tdl">Lost in the Woods</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_107">107</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">X.</td><td class="tdl">Among Friends</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">XI.</td><td class="tdl">A Sudden Resolution</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_136">136</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">XII.</td><td class="tdl">Farewell to the Poachers</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_151">151</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">XIII.</td><td class="tdl">An Attempted Trick</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_164">164</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">XIV.</td><td class="tdl">Home, Sweet Home</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_171">171</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">XV.</td><td class="tdl">The French Family</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_186">186</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">XVI.</td><td class="tdl">The Tiger in His Lair</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">XVII.</td><td class="tdl">The Tiger Makes a Spring</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_206">206</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">XVIII.</td><td class="tdl">In Search of a Perfect Man</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_217">217</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">XIX.</td><td class="tdl">Sweet and Soft Repentance</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_230">230</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">XX.</td><td class="tdl">Waiting</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_240">240</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">XXI.</td><td class="tdl">The Tiger Becomes a Lamb</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_246">246</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">XXII.</td><td class="tdl">A Troubled Mind</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">XXIII.</td><td class="tdl">An Unexpected Appearance</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_266">266</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr">XXIV.</td><td class="tdl">A Friend in Need</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_275">275</a></td></tr> -</table></div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p class="p6" /> - -<h2 class="xl"><a name="LOI" id="LOI">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</a></h2> -<hr class="r10" /> - -<div class="center smcap"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="90%" summary="List of Illustrations"> -<tr><td class="tdl"></td><td class="tdr xs">PAGE</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">"She spelled out the information, 'I am an orphan'" (<em><span class="fvnormal">See <a href="#Page_80">page 80</a></span></em>)</td><td class="tdr"><em><span class="fvnormal"><a href="#FP">Frontispiece</a></span></em></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">"'Well, I vum!'"</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#p015">15</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">"'Tilda Jane sat like a statue"</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#p045">45</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">"'I'm goin' to repent some day'"</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#p092">92</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">"He lay down beside her"</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#p116">116</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">"'Stop thar—stop! Stop!'"</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#p168">168</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">"'You are young for that, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">mademoiselle</i>, yet—'"</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#p190">190</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">"He lifted up his voice and roared at her"</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#p215">215</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">"'I've led another dog astray, an' now he's dead'"</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#p235">235</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">"'They was glad to get rid of me'"</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#p258">258</a></td></tr> -</table></div> - - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> - -<p class="pfs240">'TILDA JANE.</p> -<hr class="r10" /> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER I.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">A CREAMERY SHARK.</span></h2> - - -<p>The crows had come back. With the fashionables -of Maine they had gone south for the winter, -but now on the third day of March the advance -guard of the solemn, black army soared in sight.</p> - -<p>They were cawing over the green pine woods of -North Marsden, they were cawing over the black -spruces of South Marsden, and in Middle Marsden, -where the sun had melted the snow on a few -exposed knolls, they were having a serious and -chattering jubilation over their return to their summer -haunts.</p> - -<p>"Land! ain't they sweet!" muttered a little girl, -who was herself almost as elfish and impish as a -crow. She stood with clasped hands in the midst -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -of a spruce thicket. Her face was upturned to the -hot sun set in the hard blue of the sky. The sun -burned her, the wind chilled her, but she remained -motionless, except when the sound of sleigh-bells was -heard. Then she peered eagerly out into the road.</p> - -<p>Time after time she returned to her hiding-place -with a muttered, "No good!" She allowed a priest -to go by, two gossiping women on their way from -the village to spend a day in the country, a minister -hurrying to the sick-bed of a parishioner, and -several loaded wood-sleds, but finally a hilarious -jingle drew her hopefully from her retreat.</p> - -<p>Her small black eyes screwed themselves into two -glittering points as she examined the newcomer.</p> - -<p>"He'll do!" she ejaculated; then, with a half-caressing, -half-threatening, "You'll get murdered if -there's a word out o' you," addressed to an apparent -roll of cloth tucked among spruce branches a few -feet from the ground, she stepped out by the -snake fence.</p> - -<p>"Hello, mister!"</p> - -<p>The fat young man bobbing over the "thank-you-ma'ams" -of the snowy road, pulled himself up with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> -a jerk in his small sleigh drawn by a long-legged -mare.</p> - -<p>"Coronation! Where did that noise come from? -Hello, wood-lark," as he observed the little girl peeping -at him through the fence, "is there a hawk in -your nest?"</p> - -<p>"Who be you?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"I've got an awful pretty name," he replied, flicking -his whip over the snow-bank beside him, "too -pretty to tell."</p> - -<p>"Who be you?" she asked, pertinaciously.</p> - -<p>"Ever hear tell of a creamery shark?"</p> - -<p>"I didn't know as sharks favoured cream," she -said, soberly.</p> - -<p>"They dote on it."</p> - -<p>"Be you a creamery shark?"</p> - -<p>"No—course not. I'm chasing one. I'm a -farmer."</p> - -<p>The small, keen-eyed girl looked him all over. -He was the creamery shark himself, and he certainly -had an oily, greasy appearance befitting his -fondness for cream. However, she did not care -what he was if he served her purpose.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Will you gimme a lift?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"A lift—where?"</p> - -<p>"Anywhere out o' this," and she pointed back to -the smart, white village up the river.</p> - -<p>"Now what be you?" he said, cunningly.</p> - -<p>"I be a runaway."</p> - -<p>"What you running from?"</p> - -<p>"I'm a-runnin' from an orphan 'sylum."</p> - -<p>"Good for you—where you going?"</p> - -<p>"I'm goin' to Orstralia."</p> - -<p>"Better for you—what you going there -for?"</p> - -<p>"'Cause," she said, firmly, "they know how -to treat orphans there. They don't shut 'em -up together like a lot o' sick pigs. They scatter -'em in families. The gover'ment pays their -keep till they get old enough to fend for themselves. -Then they gets a sum o' money an' they -works—I heard a lady-board readin' it in a newspaper."</p> - -<p>"A lady-board?"</p> - -<p>"Yes—lady-boards has to run 'sylums."</p> - -<p>"Course they do. Well, skip in, little un."</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a name="p015" id="p015"></a> -<img src="images/p015.jpg" width="475" alt="" /> -<div class="caption">"'WELL, I VUM!'"</div> -<p class="rt"><a href="#LOI">[Back to LOI]</a></p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> - -<p>"There's another passenger," she said, firmly; -"an' them as takes me takes him."</p> - -<p>"Have you got your granddaddy along?"</p> - -<p>"No, siree, but I've got somethin' mos' as good -as a granddaddy, an' I'd thank you to keep a straight -tongue when you speak of him."</p> - -<p>The young man put the offending tongue in his -cheek, and chuckled enjoyably as the small, elfish -figure disappeared in the wood. Presently she -returned with a good-sized bundle in her arms, that -she thrust through the fence.</p> - -<p>"Give it a name," said the young man; "why, -see how it's wiggling—must be some kind of an -animal. Cat, weasel, rabbit, hen, dog—"</p> - -<p>"Stop there," she ejaculated; "let it be dog. -His name's Gippie."</p> - -<p>"Well, I vum!" the young man said, good-naturedly, -as she approached the sleigh and deposited -her beshawled dog on his knees.</p> - -<p>"I guess this sleigh warn't built for two," she -said, as she crawled in beside him.</p> - -<p>"Right you are; but you don't want to be carted -far."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Gimme that dog," she said, taking the bundle, -"an' start off. Prob'ly they're just hitchin' up to -be after me."</p> - -<p>He clicked his tongue to the long-legged mare, -and speedily fences and trees began to fly by -them.</p> - -<p>"What did you twig me for?" asked the fat -young man. "Ain't you had no other chance?"</p> - -<p>"Lots," she said, briefly.</p> - -<p>"There was an ole boy ahead o' me with a two-seated -rig, an' a youngster on the back seat. Why -didn't you freeze on to him?"</p> - -<p>She turned her little dark face toward him, a little -face overspread by sudden passion. "D'ye know -what that ole shell-back would 'a' done?"</p> - -<p>"He'd 'a' took ye in."</p> - -<p>"He'd 'a' druv me back to that 'sylum. He looked -too good, that one. You looked like a baddie."</p> - -<p>"Much obliged," he said, dryly.</p> - -<p>"I guess you've done bad things," she said, inexorably. -"You've stole pies, an' tole lies, an' fed -dogs an' cats on the sly. I guess you've been found -out."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> - -<p>The fat young man fell into a sudden reverie, -and they passed several white fields in silence.</p> - -<p>"They'll never ketch me," she said at last, gleefully; -"we're goin' like the wind."</p> - -<p>The young man looked down at her. She had -the appearance of a diminutive witch as she sat with -one hand clasping her faded hat, the other holding -firmly to the bundle on her lap. Her countenance -was so much older and shrewder in some phases than -in others that the young man was puzzled to guess -her age.</p> - -<p>"Why, you ain't got any cloak," he said. -"That's nothing but a dress you've got on, ain't -it? Take the shawl off that dog."</p> - -<p>"No, sir," she said, decidedly, "I don't do that."</p> - -<p>"Hold on; I've got a horse blanket here," and he -dived under the seat. "There!" and he wrapped it -around her shoulders.</p> - -<p>"Thanks," she said, briefly, and again her bird-like -eyes scanned the road ahead.</p> - -<p>"Hot cakes an' syrup!" she exclaimed, in a voice -of resigned distress, "there's the North Marsden -lady-board comin'. They must have 'phoned her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -Say, mister, lemme sneak under here. If she holes -you up, you'll have to tell a lie."</p> - -<p>The young man grinned delightedly as the little -girl slipped through the blanket and disappeared -under the lap-robe. Then he again went skimming -over the snow.</p> - -<p>There was a very grand sleigh approaching him, -with a befurred coachman on the seat driving a pair -of roan horses, and behind him a gray-haired lady -smothered in handsome robes.</p> - -<p>"Please stop!" she called pathetically, to the -approaching young man.</p> - -<p>The creamery shark pulled up his mare, and -blinked thoughtfully at her.</p> - -<p>"Oh, have you seen a little girl?" she said excitedly; -"a poor little girl, very thin and miserable, -and with a lame, brown dog limping after her? -She's wandering somewhere—the unfortunate, -misguided child. We have had such trouble with -her at the Middle Marsden Asylum—the orphan -asylum, you know. We have fed her and clothed -her, and now she's run away."</p> - -<p>The fat young man became preternaturally solemn,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> -the more so as he heard a low growl somewhere in -the region of his feet.</p> - -<p>"Did she have black hair as lanky as an Injun's?" -he asked.</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes."</p> - -<p>"And a kind o' sickly green dress?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, and a dark complexion."</p> - -<p>"And a sort of steely air as if she'd dare the -world?"</p> - -<p>"That's it; oh, yes, she wasn't afraid of any one."</p> - -<p>"Then I've sighted your game," he said, gravely, -very gravely, considering that the "game" was -pinching one of his legs.</p> - -<p>"I'll give you the scent," he went on. "Just -follow this road till you come to the three pine-trees -at the cross. Then turn toward Spruceville."</p> - -<p>"Oh, thank you, thank you. I'm ever so much -obliged. But was she on foot or driving?"</p> - -<p>"Driving like sixty, sitting up on the seat beside -a smooth old farmer with a red wig on, and a face as -long as a church."</p> - -<p>"A red wig!" exclaimed the lady. "Why, that's -Mr. Dabley—he's one of our advisory committee."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Dabley or Grabley, he's driving with one of your -orphans. I see her as plain as day sitting beside -him—brown face, faded black hat, sickly green -frock, bundle on her lap."</p> - -<p>"Farmer Dabley—incredible! How one can be -deceived. Drive on, Matthew. We must try to -overtake them. Had he one horse or two?"</p> - -<p>"A pair, ma'am—a light-legged team—a bay -and a cream. He's a regular old sport."</p> - -<p>"He's a Mephistopheles if he's helping that child -to escape," said the lady, warmly. "I'll give him a -piece of my mind."</p> - -<p>Her coachman started his horses, and the little -girl under the robe was beginning to breathe freely -when a shout from the young man brought her heart -to her mouth.</p> - -<p>"Say, ma'am, was that a striped or a plain shawl -she had her dog wrapped in?"</p> - -<p>"Striped—she had the impudence to steal it -from the matron, and leave a note saying she did it -because her jacket was locked up, and she was afraid -her dog would freeze—I'm under a great obligation -to you, sir."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span></p> - -<p>"No obligation," he said, lifting his hat. "I'm -proud to set you on the chase after such a bad young -one. That's your girl, ma'am. Her shawl was -striped. I didn't tell you she had the nerve to ask -me to take her in."</p> - -<p>"Not really—did she?" the lady called back; -then she added, wonderingly, "but I thought you -met her driving with Farmer Dabley?"</p> - -<p>They had both turned around, and were talking -over their shoulders.</p> - -<p>There was a terrible commotion under the lap-robe, -and the young man felt that he must be brief.</p> - -<p>"If you bark I'll break your neck," he heard the -refugee say in a menacing whisper, and, to cover a -series of protesting growls, he shouted, lustily, "Yes, -ma'am, but first I passed her on foot. Then I -turned back, and she was with the farmer. That -young one has got the face of a government mule, -but I'm used to mules, and when she asked me I -said, ''Pears to me, little girl, you favour a runaway, -and I ain't got no room for runaways in this narrow -rig, 'specially as I'm taking a bundle of clothing to -my dear old father'—likewise a young pig," he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -added, as there was a decided squeal from between -his feet.</p> - -<p>"Thank you, thank you," came faintly after him -as he started off at a spanking gait, and, "You're -badder than I thought you was," came reproachfully -from the tumbled head peeping above the lap-robe.</p> - -<p>"You're grateful!" he said, ironically.</p> - -<p>"I'm bad, but I only asked the Lord to forgive -the lies I'd got to tell," said the little girl as she -once more established herself on the seat. "You -should 'a' said, 'No, ma'am, I didn't see the little -girl'—an' druv on."</p> - -<p>"I guess you're kind of mixed in your opinions," -he remarked.</p> - -<p>"I ain't mixed in my mind. I see things as -straight as that air road," she replied. "I said, -'This is a bad business, for I've got to run away, -but I'll be as square as I can.'"</p> - -<p>She paused suddenly, and her companion asked, -"What's up with you?"</p> - -<p>"Nothin'," she said, faintly, "only I feel as if -there was a rat inside o' me. You ain't got any -crackers round, have you?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> - -<p>"No, but I've got something better," and he drew -a flask from the pocket of his big ulster and put it -to her mouth.</p> - -<p>Her nostrils dilated. "I'm a Loyal Legion girl."</p> - -<p>"Loyal Legion—what's that?"</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verseq">"Beware of bottles, beware of cups,</p> -<p class="verse">Evil to him who evil sups."</p> -</div></div> - -<p>"Oh! a temperance crank," and he laughed. -"Well, here's a hunk of cake I put in my pocket -last night."</p> - -<p>The little girl ate with avidity the section of a -rich fruit loaf he handed her.</p> - -<p>"How about your dog?" asked the young -man.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I guess he ain't hungry," she said, putting -a morsel against the brown muzzle thrust from the -shawl. "Everythin' was locked up last night, an' -there warn't enough lunch for him an' me—see, he -ain't for it. He knows when hunger stops an' greed -begins. That's poetry they taught us."</p> - -<p>"Tell us about that place you've been raised. -No, stop—you're kind of peaked-looking. Settle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> -down an' rest yourself till we pull up for dinner. I'll -gabble on a bit if you'll give me a starter."</p> - -<p>"I guess you favour birds an' things, don't you?" -she observed, shrewdly.</p> - -<p>"Yaw—do you?"</p> - -<p>"Sometimes I think I'm a bird," she said, vehemently, -"or a worm or somethin'. If I could 'a' -caught one o' them crows this mornin' I'd 'a' hugged -it an' kissed it. Ain't they lovely?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I don' know about lovely," said the young -man, in a judicial manner, "but the crow, as I take -him, is a kind of long-suffering orphan among birds. -From the minute the farmers turn up these furrows -under the snow, the crow works like fury. Grubs -just fly down his red throat, and grasshoppers -ain't nowhere, but because he now and then lifts -a hill o' petetters, and pulls a mite o' corn when it -gets toothsome, and makes way once in so often -with a fat chicken that's a heap better out o' the -world than in it, the farmers is down on him, the -Legislature won't protect him, and the crow—man's -good friend—gets shot by everybody and -everything!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I wish I was a queen," said the little girl, -passionately.</p> - -<p>"Well, sissy, if you ever get to be one, just unmake -a few laws that are passed to please the -men who have a pull. Here in Maine you might -take the bounty off bob-cats, an' let 'em have their -few sheep, an' you might stand between the mink -and the spawning trout, and if you want to put a -check on the robins who make war on the cherries -an' strawberries, I guess it would be more sensible -than chasing up the crows."</p> - -<p>"I'm remarkin' that you don't beat your horse," -said his companion, abruptly.</p> - -<p>"That mare," said the young man, reflectively, -"is as smart as I be, and sometimes I think a -thought smarter."</p> - -<p>"You wouldn't beat that little dog," she said, -holding up her bundle.</p> - -<p>"Bet your striped shawl I wouldn't."</p> - -<p>"I like you," she said, emphatically. "I guess -you ain't as bad as you look."</p> - -<p>The young man frowned slightly, and fell into -another reverie.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER II.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">EVEN SHARKS HAVE TENDER HEARTS.</span></h2> - - -<p>The old Moss Glen Inn, elm-shaded and half covered -by creeping vines, is a favourite resort for travellers -in the eastern part of Maine, for there a good -dinner can be obtained in a shorter space of time -than in any other country hotel in the length and -breadth of the State.</p> - -<p>"And all because there's a smart woman at the -head of it," explained the young man to the -little waif beside him. "There she is—always on -hand."</p> - -<p>A round, good-natured face, crowning a rotund, -generous figure, smiled at them from the kitchen -window, but while the eyes smiled, the thick, full -lips uttered a somewhat different message to a tall, -thin woman, bending over the stove.</p> - -<p>"Ruth Ann, here's that soapy Hank Dillson round -again,—takin' in the farmers, as usual, engagin'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -them to pay for machinery and buildings more than -are needed, considerin' the number of their cows, an' -he's got a washed-out lookin' young one with him. -She'll make a breach in the victuals, I guess."</p> - -<p>Ruth Ann, who was her sister and helper in -household affairs, came and looked over her shoulder, -just as Dillson sprang from the sleigh.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Minley stepped to the door, and stood bobbing -and smiling as he turned to her.</p> - -<p>"How de do, Mrs. Minley. Give this little girl a -place to lie down till dinner's ready, will you? She's -dead beat."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane walked gravely into the kitchen, and -although her head was heavy, and her feet as light as -if they were about to waft her to regions above, she -took time to scrutinise the broad face that would -have been generous but for the deceitful lips, and -also to cast a glance at the hard, composed woman at -the window, who looked as if her head, including the -knob of tightly curled hair at the back, had been -carved from flint.</p> - -<p>"Step right in this way," said Mrs. Minley, bustling -into a small bedroom on the ground floor.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane was not used to being waited on, and -for one proud moment she wished that the children -in the orphan asylum could see her. Then a feeling -of danger and insecurity overcame her, and she sank -on one of the painted, wooden chairs.</p> - -<p>"You're done out," said Mrs. Minley, sympathetically. -"Are you a relation of Mr. Dillson's?"</p> - -<p>"No, I ain't."</p> - -<p>"You can lie on that bed if you like," said -Mrs. Minley, noticing the longing glance cast -at it.</p> - -<p>"Well, I guess I will," said 'Tilda Jane, placing -her bundle on a chair, and stooping down to unloose -her shoes.</p> - -<p>"Stop till I get some newspapers to put on the -bed," said the landlady—"what's in that package? -It's moving," and she stared at the shawl.</p> - -<p>"It's a dog."</p> - -<p>"Mercy me! I don't allow no dogs in my -house."</p> - -<p>"All right," said the little girl, patiently putting -on her shoes again.</p> - -<p>"What you going to do, child?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I'm goin' to the wood-shed. Them as won't have -my dog won't have me."</p> - -<p>"Land sakes, child, stay where you be! I guess -he can't do no harm if you'll watch him."</p> - -<p>"No ma'am, he'll not rampage. He's little, an' -he's ole, an' he's lame, an' he don't care much for -walkin'. Sometimes you'll hear nothin' out o' him -all day but a growl or a snap."</p> - -<p>The landlady drew away from the bundle, and -after she had seen the tired head laid on the pillow, -she softly closed the door of the room.</p> - -<p>In two minutes 'Tilda Jane was asleep. The night -before she had not dared to sleep. To-day, under -the protection of the creamery shark, she could take -her rest, her hunger satisfied by the cake he had -given her in the sleigh. The shark crept in once -to look at her. "Ain't she a sight?" he whispered -to Mrs. Minley, who accompanied him, "a half-starved -monkey."</p> - -<p>She playfully made a thrust at his ribs. "Oh, -go 'long with you—always making your jokes! -How can a child look like a monkey?"</p> - -<p>He smiled, well pleased at her cajoling tone, then,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> -stretching himself out in an armchair, he announced -that dinner must be postponed for an hour to let the -child have her sleep out.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Minley kept a pleasant face before him, but -gave vent to some suppressed grumbling in the -kitchen. With fortitude remarkable in a hungry -man, he waited until one o'clock, then, losing patience, -he ate his dinner, and, telling Mrs. Minley -that he had business in the neighbourhood, and -would not be back until supper-time, he drove away -in his sleigh.</p> - -<p>At six o'clock 'Tilda Jane felt herself gently -shaken, and opening her eyes, she started up in -alarm.</p> - -<p>"All right—'tain't the police," said Mrs. Minley. -"I know all about you, little girl. You needn't be -scared o' me. Get up and have a bite of supper. -Mr. Dillson's going away, and he wants to see you."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane rose and put on her shoes in silence. -Then she followed the landlady to the next room. -For an instant she staggered back. She had never -before seen such a huge, open fireplace, never had -had such a picture presented to her in the steam<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>-heated -orphanage. Fresh from troubled dreams, -it seemed as if these logs were giants' bodies laid -crosswise. The red flames were from their blood -that was being licked up against the sooty stones. -Then the ghastliness vanished, and she approvingly -took in the picture,—the fat young -creamery shark standing over the white cat and -rubbing her with his toe, the firelight on the -wall and snowy table, and the big lamp on the -mantel.</p> - -<p>"Hello!" he exclaimed, turning around, "did you -make your sleep out?"</p> - -<p>"Yes sir," she said, briefly. "Where shall I put -this dog?"</p> - -<p>"Don't put him nowhere till we turn this cat out. -Scat, pussy!" and with his foot he gently assisted -the small animal kitchenwards.</p> - -<p>"Now you can roast your pup here," he said, -pointing to the vacated corner.</p> - -<p>"Don't touch him," warned 'Tilda Jane, putting -aside his outstretched hand. "He nips worse'n a -lobster."</p> - -<p>"Fine dog that," said the young man, ironically.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> -"Come on now, let's fall to. I guess that rat's -rampaging again."</p> - -<p>"Yes, he's pretty bad," said 'Tilda Jane, demurely; -and she seated herself in the place indicated.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Minley waited on them herself, and, as she -passed to and fro between the dining-room and -kitchen, she bestowed many glances on the lean, -lank, little girl with the brown face.</p> - -<p>After a time she nudged Hank with her elbow. -"Look at her!"</p> - -<p>Hank withdrew his attention for a minute from -his plate to cast a glance at the downcast head opposite. -Then he dropped his knife and fork. "Look -here! I call this kind of low-down."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane raised her moist eyes.</p> - -<p>"You've got ham and eggs; fried petetters -and toast, and two kinds of preserve, and hot -rolls and coffee, and cake and doughnuts, which -is more'n you ever got at the asylum, I'll warrant, -and yet you're crying,—and after all the -trouble you've been to me. There's no satisfying -some people."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane wiped her eyes. "I ain't a-cryin' for -the 'sylum," she said, stolidly.</p> - -<p>"Then what are you crying for?"</p> - -<p>"I'm cryin' 'cause it's such a long way to Orstralia, -an' I don't know no one. I wish you was a-goin'."</p> - -<p>"I wish I was, but I ain't. Come on now, eat -your supper."</p> - -<p>"I suppose I be a fool," she muttered, picking up -her knife and fork. "I've often heard I was."</p> - -<p>"Hi now—I guess you feel better, don't you?" -said the young man, twenty minutes later.</p> - -<p>He was in excellent humour himself, and, sitting -tilted back in his chair by the fireplace, played a -tune on his big white teeth with a toothpick.</p> - -<p>"Yes, I guess I'm better," said 'Tilda Jane, -soberly. "That was a good supper."</p> - -<p>"Hadn't you better feed your pup?" asked the -young man. "Seems to me he must be dead, he's -so quiet."</p> - -<p>"He's plumb beat out, I guess," said the little -girl, and she carefully removed the dog's queer -drapery.</p> - -<p>A little, thin, old, brown cur staggered out, with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -lips viciously rolled back, and a curious unsteadiness -of gait.</p> - -<p>"Steady, old boy," said the young man; "my -soul and body, he ain't got but three legs! Whoa—you're -running into the table."</p> - -<p>"He don't see very well," said 'Tilda Jane, firmly. -"His eyes is poor."</p> - -<p>"What's the matter with his tail? It don't seem -to be hung on right."</p> - -<p>"It wobbles from having tin cans tied to it. -Gippie dear, here's a bone."</p> - -<p>"Gippie dear," muttered the young man. "I'd -shoot him if he was my dog."</p> - -<p>"If that dog died, I'd die," said the little girl, -passionately.</p> - -<p>"We've got to keep him alive, then," said the -young man, good-humouredly. "Can't you give him -some milk?"</p> - -<p>She poured out a saucer full and set it before -him. The partially blind dog snapped at the saucer, -snapped at her fingers until he smelled them and -discovered whose they were, then he finally condescended -to lick out the saucer.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span></p> - -<p>"And you like that thing?" said the young man, -curiously.</p> - -<p>"Like him!—I love him," said 'Tilda Jane, -affectionately stroking the brown, ugly back.</p> - -<p>"And when did he give away that leg?"</p> - -<p>She shook her head. "It's long to tell. I guess -you'd ask me to shut up afore I got through."</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER III.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">THE STORY OF HER LIFE.</span></h2> - - -<p>The young man said nothing more at the time, -but ten minutes later, when he was thoughtfully -smoking a long brown pipe, and 'Tilda Jane sat -in a chair beside him, rocking her dog, he called -out to Mrs. Minley, who was hovering about the -room. "Sit down, Mrs. Minley. P'raps you can -get this little girl to talk; I can't."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane turned sharply to him. "Oh, mister, -I'd do anything for you. I'll talk."</p> - -<p>"Well, reel it off then. I've got to start soon."</p> - -<p>"What d'ye want to know?" she said, doggedly.</p> - -<p>"Everything; tell me where you started from. -Was you born in the asylum?"</p> - -<p>"Nobody don't know where I was born. Nobody -don't know who I am, 'cept that a woman come -to the poorhouse with me to Middle Marsden when -I was a baby. She died, an' I was left. They give<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -me the name of 'Tilda Jane Harper, an' put me in -the 'sylum. Children come an' went. Just as soon -as I'd get to like 'em they'd be 'dopted; I never -was 'dopted, 'cause I'm so ugly. My eyes ought -to 'a' been blue, an' my hair curly. I might 'a' -been a servant, but my habits was in the way."</p> - -<p>"Habits—what habits?" asked Hank.</p> - -<p>"Habits of impidence an' pig-headedness. When -the men come to kill the pigs I'd shut myself in -my room, an' put my fingers in my ears, an' I -couldn't hear, but I'd always squeal when the pigs -squealed."</p> - -<p>"Is that why you wouldn't eat your ham just -now?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, that ain't ham to me," she said, eloquently. -"That bit o' red meat was a cunnin', teeny white -pig runnin' round a pen, cryin' 'cause the butcher's -after him. I couldn't eat it, any more'n I'd eat my -brother."</p> - -<p>"You're a queer little kite," interjected the young -man, and he exchanged an amused glance with Mrs. -Minley, who was swaying gently back and forth in a -rocking-chair.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> - -<p>"So you wasn't very much set up at the asylum?" -he went on.</p> - -<p>"I guess I'm too bad for a 'sylum. <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'Onct our washerwoman'">Once our -washerwoman</ins> took me home to supper. I guess -heaven must be like that. They had a cat, too. I -used to get in most trouble at the 'sylum 'bout cats. -When starvin' ones came rubbin' up agin me in the -garden, I couldn't help sneakin' them a bit o' bread -from the pantry. It beats all, how cats find out people -as likes 'em. Then I'd get jerked up."</p> - -<p>"Jerked up?" repeated her interlocutor.</p> - -<p>"Locked in my room, or have my hands slapped. -<ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'Onct I took'">Once I took</ins> a snake in the house. He was cold, -but he got away from me, an' the matron found him -in her bed. She whipped me that time."</p> - -<p>"Was that what made you run away?"</p> - -<p>"No, I run away on account o' this dog. You -call up the cold spell we had a week ago?"</p> - -<p>"You bet—I was out in it."</p> - -<p>"Well, there come the coldest night. The matron -give us extry blankets, but I couldn't sleep. I woke -up in the middle o' the night, an' I thought o' that -dog out in the stable. 'He'll freeze,' I said, an'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> -when I said it, it seemed as if icicles were stickin' -into me. I was mos' crazy. I got up an' looked -out the window. There was a moon, an awful bitin', -ugly kind of a moon grinnin' at me. I put on some -clo'es, I slipped down-stairs, an' it seemed as if -everythin' was yellin' in the cold. Every board -an' every wall I touched went off like a gun, but -no one woke, an' I got out in the stable.</p> - -<p>"The horse was warm an' so was the cow, but this -little dog was mos' froze. I tried to warm him, but -my fingers got like sticks. Then I did a scand'lous -thing. I says, 'I'll take him in bed with me an' -warm him for a spell, an' no one'll know;' so I -lugged him in the house, an' he cuddled down on -my arm just so cunnin'. Then I tried to stay -awake, so I could carry him out early in the -mornin', but didn't I fall to sleep, an' the first thing -I knowed there was the matron a-spearin' me -with her eyes, an she put out her hand to ketch -the dog, an' he up an' bit her, an' then there was -trouble."</p> - -<p>"What kind of trouble?" asked the young -man.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I had bread an' water for two days, an' the dog -was shut up in the stable, an' then I was brought up -before the lady-board."</p> - -<p>"The lady-board," murmured Mrs. Minley; "what -does the child mean?"</p> - -<p>"The board of lady managers," explained Dillson.</p> - -<p>"Tell us about it," he said to 'Tilda Jane.</p> - -<p>The latter was keeping an eye on the clock. She -knew that the time must soon come for her to part -from her new-found friend. It was not in her nature -to be very demonstrative, yet she could not altogether -hide a certain feverishness and anxiety. One thing, -however, she could do, and she subdued her emotion -in order to do it. It amused the young man to hear -her talk. She would suppress her natural inclination -to silence and gravity, and try to entertain him. -And the more she talked, possibly the longer he -would stay.</p> - -<p>Therefore she went on: "There they set round -the table as big an' handsome as so many pies. One -lady was at the top, an' she rapped on the table with -a little hammer, an' said, ''Tention, ladies!' Then -she says, 'Here is the 'fortinate object of dissection.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -What part shall we tackle fust? Name your wishes, -ladies.' Then she stopped an' another lady begun, -'Mam pressiding, stake the case.'"</p> - -<p>The young man took his pipe from his mouth, and -Mrs. Minley ejaculated, "Mercy me!"</p> - -<p>"Madam president, I guess," he said, gravely. -"Go on, sissy."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane went on, still with her eye on the -clock, and still speaking feverishly. "The mam -pressiding staked me out. Says she, 'Here is a -little girl—she come to us like a lily o' the field; -no dress on, no bunnit, no nothin'. We've fed an' -clothed the lily, an' guv her good advice, an' she's -lifted up her heel agin us. She deifies us, she introjuces -toads an' snakes into the sacred presings of -our sinningcherry for orphans. She packs a dirty -dog in bed. We'll never levelate her. She's lowering -the key of our 'stution. She knows not the -place of reptiles an' quadruples. Ladies, shall we -keep this little disturving lellement in our 'stution? -If thy hand 'fend against thee cut it off. If thy -foot straggle, treat it likewise.'</p> - -<p>"Then she set down, an' another lady got up.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> -Says she, 'I'm always for mercy—strained mercy -dropping like juice from heaven. If this little girl is -turned inside out, she'll be a bright an' shinin' light. -I prepose that we make the 'speriment. The tastes -is in her, but we can nip off the grati'cations. I -remove that instead of disturving her, we disturve -the animiles. Ladies, we has hard work to run this -'stution.'"</p> - -<p>"This 'stution?" said the young man.</p> - -<p>"Yes, 'stution," repeated 'Tilda Jane, "that's -what they call the 'sylum. Well, this lady went on -an' says she, 'Let's send away the cats an' dogs an' -all the children's pets—squirrels an' pigeons an' -rabbits, 'cause this little girl's disruptin' every child -on the place. <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'Onct when cats come'">Once when cats come</ins> an' other animiles, -they was stoned away. Now they're took in. -I come across one little feller jus' now, an' instead o' -learnin' his lesson he was playin' with a beetle. -Ticklin' it with a straw, ladies. Now ain't that -awful? We've got 'sponsibilities toward these -foun'lings. I feels like a mother. If we sends 'em -foolish out in the world we'll be blamed. Our faithful -matron says it's unpossible to ketch rats an'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> -mice. This little girl gets at the traps, an' let's -'em go. She's a born rule-smasher!'</p> - -<p>"Then she closed her mouth an' set down, an' the -big lady sittin' at the head o' the table pounded her -hammer 'cause they all fell to jabberin'. Says she, -'Will some lady make a commotion?' Then one -lady got up, an' she says, 'I remove that all animiles -be decharged from this 'stution.'</p> - -<p>"'What about the chickings?' called out another -lady. 'You must declude them. This will go on -record.' The other lady said, ''Scuse me, I forgot -the chickings. I'll mend my dissolution. I remove -that all quadruples be decharged from this 'stution.'</p> - -<p>"That suited some, an' didn't suit t'others, an' -there was a kind of chally-vally. One lady said she's -mend the mendment, an' then the mam pressiding -got kind o' mixy-maxy, an' said they'd better start -all over agin, 'cause she'd lose her way 'mong so -many mendments. After a long time, they got their -ideas sot, an' they said that I was to stay, but all the -animiles was to go. I didn't snuffle nor nothin', but -I just said, 'Are you plannin' to kill that there -dog?'</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> - -<p>"The mam pressiding gave a squeal an' said, 'No, -that would be cruel. They would give the dog to -some little feller who would be good to him.' I said, -'Little fellers tie tin cans to dogs' tails'—an' then -they got mad with me an' said I was trespicious. -Then I said, 'All right,' 'cause what could I do agin -a whole lot o' lady-boards? But I made up my mind -I'd have to work my way out of it, 'cause it would kill -that little dog to be took from me. So I run away."</p> - -<p>Her story was done, and, closing her lips in dogged -resolution, she stared inquiringly at the young man. -He was not going to withdraw his protection from -her, she saw that, but what would he direct her to -do next?</p> - -<p>He was thoughtfully tapping his pipe against the -fireplace, now he was putting it in his pocket, and -now he was going to speak.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a name="p045" id="p045"></a> -<img src="images/p045.jpg" width="550" alt="" /> -<div class="caption">"'TILDA JANE SAT LIKE A STATUE."</div> -<p class="rt"><a href="#LOI">[Back to LOI]</a></p> -</div> - -<p>"Little girl, you've started for Australia, and as I -don't believe in checking a raring, tearing ambition, -I won't try to block you, exactly, but only to sidetrack. -You can't go to Australia bang off. It's too -far. And you haven't got the funds. Now I'll make -a proposition. I've got an old father 'most as cranky -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>as that there dog. I guess if you're so long-suffering -with the animal, you'll be long-suffering with the -human. He needs some tidy body to keep his house -trigged up, and to wait on him, 'cause he's lame. He -has an everlasting wrastle to keep a housekeeper on -account of this same flash-light temper. But I guess -from what I've seen of you, that you could fix him. -And you'd have a home which you seem to hanker -for. And you could save your money and start for -Australia when you've put enough flesh on those -bones to keep you from blowing away into the sea -and getting lost. Starting would be convenient, for -my father lives near the big Canadian railway that is -a round the world route. You can step aboard the -cars, go to the Pacific, board a steamer, and go on -your way to Australia. What do you say—is it a -bargain?"</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane sat like a statue. The firelight danced -behind her little, grave profile that remained unchanged, -save for the big tears rolling slowly and -deliberately down each thin cheek and dropping on -the faded dress. Only the tears and the frantically -clasped hands betrayed emotion.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I guess it's a go," said the young man, kindly. -"Here's my father's address," and getting up he -handed a card to her. "Hobart Dillson, Ciscasset, -Maine. I've got to make tracks now, but Mrs. -Minley here will put you on a train that comes by -here in the morning, and all you've got to do is to sit -still in it, till you hear the conductor holler Ciscasset. -Then you hustle out and ask some one where -Hobart Dillson lives. When you get there, don't -shake if he throws a crutch at you. Just tell him -you've come to stay, and I'm going to pay extra -for it. That'll cool him, 'cause he's had to pay a -housekeeper out of his own allowance up to this. -The old boy and I don't rub along together very -sweet, but he knows the size of a dollar every -time."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane choked back the suffocating lump in -her throat, and gravely rose to her feet. "Sir, I'm -as much obleeged to you as—"</p> - -<p>Here she broke down.</p> - -<p>"As you ought to be," he finished. "Don't mention -it. I'm happy to make your acquaintance. So -long," and he politely held out two fingers.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p> - -<p>A vague terror seized the little girl. He had -arranged everything for her, and yet she had never -since her escape felt so paralysed with fear. Her -beseeching eyes sought Mrs. Minley's face. The -landlady was smiling graciously at her, but the little -girl's heart sunk. Quite unknown to herself, she -was a sharp reader of character. She was losing her -best friend in the fat young man.</p> - -<p>"Take me with you," she gasped, suddenly clinging -to his hand.</p> - -<p>"Can't do that, sissy. I'm going back into the -settlements—bad roads, scattered houses. You'd -freeze stiff. Better stay here with Mrs. Minley. -I'll run up to Ciscasset by and by to see you."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane drew back in sudden, steely composure. -She was ashamed of herself. "I'm crazy," -she said, shortly; "you've done enough for me now. -I'll take care of your father if he gets mad fifty -times a day."</p> - -<p>Already she felt a sense of responsibility. She -drew herself up with dignity, and in sad, composed -silence watched the young man leave the room and -the house. When the last faint sound of his sleigh-bells<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> -had died away, she gave up her listening attitude, -and turned patiently to Mrs. Minley, who was -saying with a yawn, "I guess you'd better go to -bed."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane walked obediently toward her room, -and Mrs. Minley, seating herself on a chair in cold -curiosity, watched her undress.</p> - -<p>When the little girl knelt down to say her prayers, -a feeble smile illuminated the woman's face. However, -she was still listless and uninterested, until the -latter portion of the petition.</p> - -<p>"O Lord," 'Tilda Jane was praying earnestly, -almost passionately, "forgive me for all this sin an' -'niquity. I just had to run away. I couldn't give -up that little dog that thou didst send me. I'll live -square as soon as I get takin' care o' that ole man. -Bless the matron an' make her forgive me, an' bless -all the lady-boards—Mis' Grannis 'specially, 'cause -she'll be maddest with me. Keep me from tellin' -any more lies. Amen."</p> - -<p>When 'Tilda Jane rose from her knees, Mrs. -Minley's breath was coming and going quickly, and -there was a curious light in her eyes. "Mrs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> -Grannis, did you say?" she asked, shortly. "Mrs. -Grannis, over Beaver Dam way?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, ma'am."</p> - -<p>"What has she got to do with the asylum?"</p> - -<p>"She's the fust lady-board. She sits behind the -table an' pounds the hammer."</p> - -<p>"And she'll be maddest with you?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, ma'am. She says children has too much -liberties."</p> - -<p>"Hurry into bed," said Mrs. Minley, briefly, and -taking up the lamp, and without a word of farewell, -she disappeared from the room.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane cowered down between the cold sheets. -Then she stretched out a hand to touch the precious -bundle on the chair by her bed. And then she tried -to go to sleep, but sleep would not come.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER IV.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">UNSTABLE AS WATER.</span></h2> - - -<p>A vague uneasiness possessed her. Ah, how -happy would she be, could she know that the young -creamery man was sleeping under the same roof! -But he was speeding somewhere far away over the -snowy roads. However, she should see him again. -He had said so, and, with the hopefulness of youth, -she sighed a happy sigh and, closing her eyes tightly, -listened to the various sounds about the quiet house.</p> - -<p>There must have been another arrival, for she -heard doors opening and shutting, and also the jingle -of sleigh-bells. They were strangely confused in -her mind with the ringing of the rising-bell at the -orphan asylum, and she was just sinking into a -dreamy condition, a forerunner of sleep, when she -heard a hard voice in her ear.</p> - -<p>"Get up an' dress, little girl."</p> - -<p>She raised herself quietly from the pillow. There<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> -stood over her the tall, gaunt woman whom she had -heard Mrs. Minley address as Ruth Ann. To her -perturbed mind, there rose a vision of a graven -image from the Bible, as she stared at the woman's -stony countenance. She was standing shading a -candle with her hand, and her deep eyes were fixed -in unmistakable compassion on the little girl.</p> - -<p>"Jump up," she repeated, "an' dress like sixty. -You've got yourself into a peck o' trouble."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane had not a thought of questioning the -wisdom of this command. Something about the -hard-faced woman inspired her with confidence, and -without a word she stepped out of bed, and began -rapidly putting on her clothes.</p> - -<p>"I'll talk while you dress," said the woman, in a -hard, intense voice, and putting down the candle, -"but, Lord, how can I say it all?"</p> - -<p>There was a kind of desperation in her tone, -although no trace of emotion appeared on her face. -'Tilda Jane felt a strange kinship with this reserved -woman, and flashed her a sympathetic glance while -buttoning one of her stout and ugly garments.</p> - -<p>Ruth Ann made a brief grimace. "Here I am,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> -she said, with a sudden burst of speech, "a middle-aged -woman gettin' old. You're a young one settin' -out on life's journey. I'll never see you agin, -prob'bly. Let me give you a word—be honest, an' -if you can't be honest, be as honest as you can. -You'll have no luck otherwise. You may think -you're havin' luck in bein' sly, but it's a kind o' luck -that turns to loss in the long run. There's that -sister o' mine. She reminds me o' Reuben in the -Bible—'unstable as water thou shalt not excel.' -She's that deceitful that I should think she'd choke -with it so she couldn't breathe."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane made no remark, but as she threw her -dress over her head her two black eyes scintillated -wonderingly in the woman's direction.</p> - -<p>"Unstable," said Ruth Ann, bitterly. "I'd 'a' -loved her if she'd been honest, but it's always the -same,—fair to the face, foul behind the back. I've -slaved for her an' waited on her, an' heard her -praised for work I've done, and seen young men -oggle her, an' she oggle back, an' I've never had -an offer an' never will, an' sometimes I think I hate -her."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane paused for an instant in her rapid -dressing. This sisterly repulsion was something -unknown to her childish experience.</p> - -<p>"Then when she gets sick from stuffin' herself, -I'm feared, an' think she's goin' to die, but she'll -'tend my funeral, an' cry an' look so handsome that -some ole Jack will pop the question on the way -home. Here, child, eat these while you dress," -and she drew some doughnuts from her pocket.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane pushed them from her, with an involuntary -movement of dislike.</p> - -<p>"You've turned agin me for turnin' agin my -sister," said the woman, bitterly. "Wait till you're -treated as I am. An' let me tell you what she's -done to you. You made mention o' Mis' Grannis. -Mis' Grannis has got a mortgage on this house. -Mis' Grannis lends her money, Mis' Grannis is the -god my sister bows down to. Do you think she'd -let you stand between her and Mis' Grannis? No—the -minute she heard you say Mis' Grannis -would be pleased to git you back, that minute she -made up her mind to fool you and Hank Dillson -that she can't abide 'cause he ain't never asked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> -her to stop bein' a widow. So she made me help -her hitch up, an' she's off on the wings of the -wind to tell her sweet Mis' Grannis to come an' -git you; an' just to fool her who is so cute at -foolin' other folks, I made up my mind to git you -off. Now do you take it in?"</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane did take in this alarming bit of news, -and for one instant stood aghast. Then she resolutely -fell to lacing on her shoes.</p> - -<p>"You're gritty," said the woman, admiringly. -"Now I'll tell you what I've laid out. I'm goin' -to guide you through the woods to the Moss Glen -Station. When we git mos' there, I'll skedaddle -home an' to bed, 'cause I don't want sister to find -me out. Here's an extry pair o' stockin's an' shoes -to put on before you board the train. You'll git -yours full o' snow water. If all goes as I calc'late, -you'll have time to change 'em in the station. -You don't want to git sick so you can't stand up -to that ole man. Here's a little tippet for your -shoulders. Dillson told sister to give you a shawl, -but she'll not do it. An' he paid her, too. Now -come, let's start."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane brushed her hand over her eyes, -resolutely picked up her dog, and followed her -guide out to the kitchen.</p> - -<p>Ruth Ann caught up a shawl, threw it over her -head, and opened the door. "My—it's black! I -guess we'll have to take a lantern."</p> - -<p>She turned back, fumbled in a corner of the -kitchen, struck a light, then rejoined 'Tilda Jane.</p> - -<p>For some minutes they plodded on in silence. -Then Ruth Ann said, anxiously, "I don' know -what I'll do if it don't snow. She'll track us sure—me, -big feet, an' you, smaller ones. Glory, it's -snowin' now!"</p> - -<p>A sudden wind had sprung up in the black, quiet -night, and whirled a few flakes of snow in their -faces. Then the snow began to fall from above, -gently and quietly, flake by flake.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane struggled along the heavy road in the -wake of the tall woman ahead. The small dog -seemed to have grown larger, and lay a heavy burden -in her arms. Yet she uttered no word of -complaint. Her mind was in a whirl, and she gave -no thought to physical fatigue. What was she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> -doing? Had she—a little girl—any right to give -so much trouble to grown people? Her actions -were exactly in opposition to every precept that -had been instilled into her mind. Children should -be seen and not heard. Children should wait on -grown people. Children must not lie under any -circumstances. They must be obedient, truthful, -honest, and uncomplaining. Perhaps she ought to -go back to the orphan asylum. She could stand -punishment herself—but her dog? They would -make her give him up. Some boy would get him. -Boys were all mischievous at times. Could she -endure the thought of that little feeble frame -subjected to torture? She could not, and steeling -her heart against the asylum, the matron, and the -lady managers, she walked on more quickly than -ever.</p> - -<p>She would never forget that ghostly walk through -the woods. The narrow way wound always between -high snow-laden sentinels of trees. The sickly, -slanting gleam of the lantern lighted only a few -steps ahead. Mystery and solemnity were all about -her; the pure and exquisite snow, on which they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> -were putting their black-shod feet, was to her the -trailing robe of an angel who had gone before. -The large, flat snowflakes, showered on her erring -head, were missives from the skies, "Go back, -little girl, go back."</p> - -<p>"Lord, I can't go back," she repeated, stubbornly, -"but I'll repent some more, by and by. Please -take away the sick feeling in the middle of my -stomach. I can't enjoy anythin'."</p> - -<p>The sick feeling continued, and she gave Ruth -Ann only a feeble "yes," when she suddenly turned -and threw the light of the lantern on her with a -brisk, "Don't you want to know what lie I'm goin' -to tell 'bout your leavin'?</p> - -<p>"I'm not goin' to tell any lie," Ruth Ann continued, -triumphantly. "If you've got grace enough -to hold your tongue, other folks'll do all your lyin' -for you. Sister'll come home, Mis' Grannis with -her, prob'bly. They'll go ravagin' in the spare -room. They'll come ravagin' out—'Ruth Ann, -that young one's run off!' An' I'll be busy with -my pots an' pans, an' all I'll have to say is: 'Do -tell!' or, 'Why, how you talk!' An' sister'll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> -rave an' tear, an' run round like a crazy thing, an' -look at Mis' Grannis out o' the corner of her eye."</p> - -<p>Ruth Ann's shoulders shook with enjoyable -laughter, but if she had turned suddenly she -would have seen a look of unmistakable disgust -flitting over the face behind her.</p> - -<p>She did turn suddenly a few minutes later, but the -look was gone. "Here, give me that dog," she said, -peremptorily.</p> - -<p>The little girl protested, but the woman took him, -and again they plodded on in silence.</p> - -<p>"Here we be," she said, after they had been walking -for an hour longer.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane raised her head. The narrow road had -abruptly expanded into a circular clearing, and in the -midst of the clearing stood a small wooden building.</p> - -<p>Ruth Ann walked up to it, handed 'Tilda Jane the -dog and the lantern, and put her hands on one of the -diminutive windows.</p> - -<p>It opened easily, and she ejaculated with satisfaction, -"Just what I thought. Come, crawl in here; -the station agent's been here all the evenin', an' the -fire ain't quite out. You'll be as snug as a bug in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> -rug. He'll be back at daylight agin, an' soon after -your train'll come along for Ciscasset. Don't you -breathe a word to him 'bout me. Say Mis' Minley -brought you here, if he asks anythin'. Here's enough -money to buy your ticket. I ain't got much. Sister -keeps me short, an' she's took away with her what -Hank Dillson give her for you. Mind an' keep that -card with his father's name pinned inside your dress. -Here's a lunch," and she produced a parcel from her -pocket. "Don't fret, sister can't git home much before -breakfast, an' by that time you'll be in Ciscasset, -an' I guess they'll not follow you there. She don't -know the name o' the place, anyway. She didn't -take no 'count when Hank mentioned it, an' when -she asked me, you'd better believe I forgot it, too."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane scrambled through the window, and, -upon arriving inside, turned around and gravely shook -hands with her guide. "I guess I sha'n't forgit this."</p> - -<p>"Don't you take no pains to remember it before -sister," said the woman, with a chuckle, "if you don't -want me to live an' die in hot water. Good luck to -you. Shut the winder, an' put a stick on the fire," -and she strode off through the snow.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane shuddered. She was not a nervous -child, yet the knowledge that she was alone in a -forest pressed and bore down upon her. However, -she was out of the increasing storm. She had got -her guilty feet off that angel's trailing robe, and the -little letters from heaven were not dashing in her -face, nor was there any danger now that one of the -groaning trees bending to lament over her would fall -and crush her shrinking form.</p> - -<p>They were creaking all around the circular opening—those -spying trees—staring through the curtainless -windows at her, and instead of throwing on more -wood, and making a blaze that would enable her to -be plainly seen, she opened the stove door, and, cowering -over the embers, changed her wet foot-gear, -and tried to dry her clinging skirts.</p> - -<p>She was entirely miserable until the frightened dog -crept into her arms. Here was something weaker -and more in need of protection than herself, and, -hugging him closely to her, she prepared to spend -the rest of the night in a patient waiting for the -morning.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER V.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">ANOTHER ADVENTURE.</span></h2> - - -<p>The quietest and most undemonstrative passenger -on the night train from Boston was the shabby little -girl in the corner, with the bundle beside her on the -seat.</p> - -<p>The conductor, after one sharp glance, paid no -attention to her, the brakemen paid no attention to -her, the boy with the gum-drops and novels ignored -her. She had the air of knowing where she was -going, and also of being utterly uninteresting, and -greatly to her relief she was left entirely to her own -devices.</p> - -<p>In reality 'Tilda Jane was in a state of semi-paralysis. -She scarcely dared to move, to breathe. All -her life had been spent in the quiet precincts of the -asylum. She had scarcely been allowed to go to the -small village in its vicinity, and when she had been -allowed to visit it she had seen nothing as wonderful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -as this, for there was no railway there. It took her -breath away to be whirled along at so rapid a rate. -She wondered how the people dared to walk about. -She wondered how she had ever had courage enough -to step on board the flaming, roaring monster that -had come rushing out of the woods as if it would -devour the little station, the agent, herself, and her -dog. But they had not been devoured, and the -agent had guided her staggering footsteps toward the -monster. If he had not done so, she would in her -bewilderment have been left a prey for the pitiless -Mrs. Minley.</p> - -<p>For two hours she sat with swimming brain, then -it occurred to her that she must in some way acquaint -this wonderful and frightful means of locomotion, -with her desire to alight at her destination. -She closely watched the people entering and leaving -the car, and discovered that immediately following -the entrance of a man who bawled some unintelligible -exclamation, something took place that reminded her -of a game played at the asylum. Certain people went -out, and certain others came in and took their places. -She must catch this noisy man and speak to him.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> - -<p>She patiently waited for him to pass through the -car. Once he swept by her, and then some time -elapsed before she saw him again. The train had -been waiting for fifteen minutes at a station. A -number of men had gone out, and presently come -back brushing their moustaches and with toothpicks -between their teeth. This must be an eating-place; -and Ruth Ann said that 'Tilda Jane would arrive in -Ciscasset before breakfast-time.</p> - -<p>The little girl desperately addressed a passenger -passing her. "I say, sir, when do we come to -Ciscasset?"</p> - -<p>"Ciscasset!" repeated the man. "We passed it -an hour ago."</p> - -<p>"Passed it!" she echoed, stupidly.</p> - -<p>The man turned to a news agent sauntering by. -"Here, you, send the conductor here."</p> - -<p>The conductor did not appear, but a brakeman -came. "Got carried beyond your station, little girl. -You're in Canada now, but it's all right; we'll ship -you off at the next stop. Number eight will take -you back. All ri-i-i-ght."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane fell back on her seat with a strange<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> -sinking of heart. She remembered now that Hank -Dillson had said the conductor would "holler" Ciscasset; -but, if he had done so, she had not distinguished -the words in the strange sounds issuing -from his mouth.</p> - -<p>It seemed as if only a few bewildered minutes had -passed when someone ejaculated, "McAdam Junction!" -and the friendly brakeman was beside her. -She felt herself lifted from her seat, bundle and all, -and swung to a platform, where she stood among a -group of people. She did not know where to go or -what to do, and remained as one in a dream until -some one touched her shoulder.</p> - -<p>"You the little girl carried beyond your station?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir," she gasped, and looked up into the -pleasant face of a young man bending over her.</p> - -<p>"All right; the conductor told me about you. -Come in here," and he led the way to a waiting-room. -"Had your breakfast?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir, but I've got it here," and she pulled -Ruth Ann's parcel out of her pocket.</p> - -<p>The young man smiled and motioned it back. -"Come have some hot coffee," and he passed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> -through a doorway into an eating-room, where 'Tilda -Jane presently found herself seated before a steaming -cup of coffee, and a plate of beefsteak and -potatoes.</p> - -<p>"I ain't got any money to pay for this," she said, -bluntly, to the young woman who set the tempting -viands before her.</p> - -<p>"That's all right," said the girl, smiling.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane picked up her knife and fork. "All -right!" seemed to be a railway expression. It was -immensely comforting to her, and she soberly partook -of the hot breakfast, drank all her coffee, and -emptied the scraps from her plate into her handkerchief. -Then she approached the counter where -the young woman stood.</p> - -<p>"Thank you kindly, ma'am. I've made a good -meal."</p> - -<p>Then she went outdoors into the crisp morning -air. The snow-storm was over, and the day was -delightful—blue above, white below. It was like -a fairy world. She walked to the end of the platform, -unrolled her shawl, and, freeing her mummy-like -dog, set his breakfast before him. He ate with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> -avidity, then, showing a disinclination to return to -his bandages, hopped on his three legs along the -platform beside her, his crooked tail meanwhile -describing successive circles in the air. Some of -the loiterers about the station gathered around him, -and seeing that his bodily infirmities were a subject -of mirth rather than of compassion, 'Tilda Jane, in -spite of warm protests on his part, once more -swathed him in his shawl, and carried him with -dignity into the waiting-room. There she sat until -the agreeable young man ran in and said her train -was coming.</p> - -<p>Something warned her that she ought to implore -him to tell some one to have a care of her—to see -that she did not again get carried beyond her destination, -but a kind of paralysis seized upon her -tongue, and she could only open her mouth and -gape stupidly at him.</p> - -<p>"You'll be all right now," he said, with a nod. -"Jump when you hear Ciscasset."</p> - -<p>"Ciscasset, Ciscasset!" she repeated the name -in a kind of desperation, then, as the train started -with a jerk and she tumbled into a seat, she said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> -aloud, and without addressing any one in particular, -"I wish to jump off at Ciscasset."</p> - -<p>"Bless the child!" ejaculated an old lady in the -seat before her, "I guess this is her first journey," -and turning around, she stared mildly.</p> - -<p>"Oh, ma'am," said 'Tilda Jane, "can't you help -me get off at Ciscasset? The train goes so fast, an' -I'm so little."</p> - -<p>"Bless the child!" said the old lady again, "of -course I will. Conductor, this little girl wishes to -get off at Ciscasset."</p> - -<p>"All right," said that official, hurrying by.</p> - -<p>"This little girl wishes to get off at Ciscasset," -exclaimed the old lady once more, this time to a -brakeman.</p> - -<p>He nodded and passed on, and presently the conductor -returned and said, smartly, "Tickets!"</p> - -<p>"I ain't got any," replied 'Tilda Jane.</p> - -<p>"Then you must buy one," said the old lady; -"have you got any money, my dear?"</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane never thought of asking the conductor -if he had not been informed of her mishap. She -never dreamed that the pleasant-faced young man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> -had forgotten to ask that she be carried back to the -station for which she had bought her ticket. Therefore -she drew her handkerchief from her pocket, -untied a knot in its corner, and slowly produced -fifty cents.</p> - -<p>"Is that all the money you've got?" asked the -conductor, briskly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>"Where do you come from?"</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane preserved a discreet silence.</p> - -<p>"Put it up," he said, waving his hand toward the -handkerchief and immediately going away.</p> - -<p>"Oh, what a nice kind man!" said the old lady. -"He's going to let you ride free."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane breathed more freely, and returned -her handkerchief to its place.</p> - -<p>The conductor, meanwhile, had gone to a Pullman -car in the rear, where a man in plain clothes was -lying back on a seat, apparently engaged in an aimless, -leisurely scrutiny of the occupants of the car.</p> - -<p>"Jack," said the conductor, "there's a slip of a -girl in the day car—poor clothes, shawl bundle, no -money, won't tell where she comes from, making a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> -great fuss about going to Ciscasset, looks like an -emigrant."</p> - -<p>"All right," said Jack, laconically, then he gave -an imperceptible nod toward a trio of well-dressed -young men engaged in card playing. "Want to see -me nab that New York jeweller's clerk?"</p> - -<p>"Yep," said the conductor.</p> - -<p>"Got any telegrams in your pocket?"</p> - -<p>"Two."</p> - -<p>"Lend me one, and sit down here a minute."</p> - -<p>Jack got up, the conductor took the vacated seat, -and waited one, two, three minutes, and then Jack -reappeared from between the curtains of the drawing-room -at the rear of the car.</p> - -<p>"A telegram for H.J. Bolingbroke," he called, in -a loud voice; "any passenger of that name in this -car?"</p> - -<p>The youngest of the three men playing cards -involuntarily raised his head, started from his seat, -half extended his hand, then drew back.</p> - -<p>Jack tossed the telegram to the conductor, and -nodded to the young man. "Thought you were -travelling under an assumed name. H. J. Boling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>broke -<em>alias</em> Blixton. Have you got those diamonds -in your pocket?"</p> - -<p>The young man flushed painfully, while his fellow -players threw down their cards and surveyed him -curiously.</p> - -<p>"Trouble you to follow me to another car," said -Jack, and he led the way for the detected smuggler.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane saw the two men pass, and innocently -stared at them, little dreaming that her turn was to -come next.</p> - -<p>After awhile Jack reappeared and sat down in a -seat behind 'Tilda Jane. After noticing the ineffectual -attempts made by the old lady to draw the -little girl into conversation, he leaned over and -poured some candy into her lap from a bag he held -in his hand.</p> - -<p>"Have some, sissy?"</p> - -<p>She gratefully flashed him a glance over her -shoulder. "Thank you, sir."</p> - -<p>"Going far?" he asked, agreeably.</p> - -<p>"To Ciscasset," she said, feverishly. "Will you -tell me when we come to it?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly. Going to visit friends?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> - -<p>"No, sir."</p> - -<p>"Oh, going home?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir."</p> - -<p>"Your home isn't quite so near as Ciscasset?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir."</p> - -<p>"Did you bring that small dog across the ocean -with you?" he asked, his keen eye noting a stirring -inside the bundle.</p> - -<p>"No, sir."</p> - -<p>"Where did you pick him up?"</p> - -<p>"Some boys were goin' to drown him."</p> - -<p>"So you're a kind little girl."</p> - -<p>"I ain't as good as I ought to be," she said, -warmly; "but I'm goin' to try to be better. Oh, -sir, are we at Ciscasset yet?"</p> - -<p>"No, this is Vanceboro, the border station between -Canada and the States. I guess you'd better -come this way for Ciscasset, little girl."</p> - -<p>"Why, this train goes direct to Ciscasset," interposed -the old lady.</p> - -<p>"Yes, ma'am, but this little girl is a stop-over. -She'll probably go on the next train."</p> - -<p>The old lady grew suspicious. "You let that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> -child alone, sir. Where's the conductor? Conductor, -I say, come here. Can't some one get the -conductor? Don't go with him one step, little -girl."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane, grown very pale, gazed apprehensively -at the man, and did not offer to leave her seat.</p> - -<p>He threw back his coat and displayed a badge. -"Madam, I'm a government inspector."</p> - -<p>"A government inspector! What's that?" the -old lady spluttered, eyeing him over her glasses.</p> - -<p>"Well, madam, there ain't much time for explanation, -but I can tell you this much, namely, that -we have to detain and examine all persons without -means of livelihood who attempt to enter the United -States from foreign countries."</p> - -<p>She still gazed at him suspiciously. "I never -heard of such a thing. I guess this is a free -country."</p> - -<p>"Yes, ma'am, and the government wants to keep -it free. If you get a lot of pauper foreigners here, -it'll not be free long."</p> - -<p>"This little girl is American, ain't you, sissy?"</p> - -<p>"I'm an orphan," said 'Tilda Jane, guardedly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> -Whatever happened, she was determined not to -admit too much.</p> - -<p>At this moment the conductor appeared, and the -old lady hailed him indignantly. "What does this -mean, sir? This little girl offered to pay her passage. -I saw her with my own eyes. Now you're -going to put her off the train."</p> - -<p>"It's all right, ma'am," he said, soothingly, "she'll -likely be allowed to go on to-morrow."</p> - -<p>"And you'll keep that innocent child here all -day, and she too frightened to breathe?" cried the -old lady. "I never heard of such doings. I'll write -the President! I'll show you up in the papers!"</p> - -<p>"She'll be well taken care of, madam," said the -conductor. "There's a good hotel here. All detained -are lodged and fed at government expense. -She'll be put in charge of a chambermaid."</p> - -<p>"You're a set of villains!" said the old lady, -wrathfully.</p> - -<p>"Oh, law!" groaned the conductor, "I'm sick of -these fusses. Pick up her traps, Jack."</p> - -<p>"Come, little girl," said Jack, kindly, and 'Tilda -Jane, seeing that the inevitable had once more over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>taken -her, rose resignedly, but the too kind and -officious old lady clung to her so wildly that the -two men were forced to draw her away from her.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane, in a state of complete bewilderment -totally unmixed with terror, for she had taken a -liking to the kind face of her guide, trotted meekly -after him into the shadow of a long V-shaped building. -The platform was crowded with people. Two -trains were standing at the station, and in a large -dining-room on her right she saw thronged tables -and hurrying waitresses.</p> - -<p>She was ushered into a room where there was a -handsomely dressed woman with a flushed face and -tearful eyes, a dejected looking boy and girl sitting -very close to each other, a diminutive and poorly -dressed German Jew, and a composed looking man -sitting behind a small table.</p> - -<p>"I'll have to leave you now," said her guide. -"Don't be scared, but speak up," and with a reassuring -smile he disappeared.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER VI.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">DEAF AND DUMB.</span></h2> - - -<p>'Tilda Jane sat down on a bench in the corner -and took the dog on her lap.</p> - -<p>The fashionably dressed woman was speaking and -gesticulating earnestly in front of the man whose -face was only a trifle less calm and stony than that -of Ruth Ann.</p> - -<p>"I never heard of such a thing in my life—to -take my sealskin coat from me in the dead of winter. -Now if it was summer, it wouldn't be so bad. My -nice coat that cost me four hundred and seventy-five -dollars."</p> - -<p>The man listened stolidly.</p> - -<p>"And you tell me your government orders you -to take ladies' jackets from them. It seems incredible!"</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane curiously scanned the garment under -discussion. It certainly was very handsome.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> - -<p>"It is incredible, madam. The government does -not wish to deprive ladies of their sealskin coats. It -merely requires its custom officials, of whom I am -one, to enforce the law which has been made to prevent -the importation of sealskin coats free of duty."</p> - -<p>"And have you taken many jackets?" sneered -the woman.</p> - -<p>The official gazed at her in frigid silence.</p> - -<p>"I'll go right back to Toronto, where I live," she -said, indignantly. "I was going to buy my daughter's -trousseau in New York, but I'll spend every -cent at home. That's the way we will make New -York suffer on account of your government being -so hateful!" and she flounced from the room. The -man behind the table cast a leisurely glance over -the remaining occupants of the room. Then he -addressed the dejected boy and girl.</p> - -<p>"Hello, you!—what's your name?"</p> - -<p>"Thaddeus and Mary Lee," said the boy, mournfully.</p> - -<p>"Brother and sister?"</p> - -<p>"Man and wife," responded the boy, lugubriously.</p> - -<p>The assistant inspector elevated his eyebrows.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> - -<p>"What ages?"</p> - -<p>"Nineteen and seventeen," sighed the lad.</p> - -<p>"Where are you going?"</p> - -<p>"To Boston."</p> - -<p>"What for?"</p> - -<p>"To look for work."</p> - -<p>"Got any money?"</p> - -<p>"Two dollars and seventy cents."</p> - -<p>"That all?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir."</p> - -<p>"What place do you come from?"</p> - -<p>"Chickaminga, Quebec."</p> - -<p>"You'll take the 8.15 <span class="fs70">A. M.</span> train back to-morrow," -said the man, briefly. "Now, Deutscher," and he -nodded to the German Jew.</p> - -<p>The boy and girl left the room, hand in hand, -with melancholy clothing them like a garment, and -'Tilda Jane gazed after them with wide-open eyes. -Her attention, however, was soon distracted, for the -little Jew, the instant he was indicated, sprang from -his seat, extended both hands, and nimbly skipping -over the floor between his numerous bundles, overwhelmed -the inspector with a flood of German.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> - -<p>The inspector leaned back in his chair and at last -put up a hand with a commanding, "Halt!"</p> - -<p>The old man paused open-mouthed, and the inspector -went on in German: "You left your home, -you crossed the sea, you wish to go to Portland to -relatives—so far, so good, but where are your -papers?"</p> - -<p>The old man broke into a second burst of -eloquence.</p> - -<p>"Your certificate," reiterated the inspector, "your -writing from the captain of the ship."</p> - -<p>The old man shook his head sadly. He had no -papers.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane did not understand a word of what he -was saying, but his gestures were expressive, and she -anxiously watched his interlocutor.</p> - -<p>"Where did you land?" asked the inspector.</p> - -<p>"In Halifax, Nova Scotia."</p> - -<p>"From what ship?"</p> - -<p>"<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Das Veilchen.</i>"</p> - -<p>"Captain's name?"</p> - -<p>"Strassburger."</p> - -<p>"Your name?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Franz Veier."</p> - -<p>"I'll telegraph him. That's all."</p> - -<p>"And can I not go to my friends now—at once? -They are waiting, they are expecting. We have so -much to say."</p> - -<p>"No," said the inspector, and as the German burst -out into groans and lamentations, he waved him from -the room.</p> - -<p>When the door closed, and 'Tilda Jane felt that the -cold and scrutinising eyes of the inspector were fixed -on her, she was stricken with sudden dumbness. -How these people had talked! She could not in a -month utter as much as they had said in a few -minutes. The result of their loquacity had been a -seeming paralysis of her organs of speech.</p> - -<p>"What's your name, little girl?" said the official, -with slight geniality.</p> - -<p>Her lips parted, but no sound came from them.</p> - -<p>"<i lang="de" xml:lang="de">Sprechen Sie Deutsch?</i>" he asked, agreeably.</p> - -<p>She shook her head, not from any knowledge of -his meaning, but to signify her disinclination for -speech.</p> - -<p>"<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Parlez-vous français</i>?" he went on, patiently.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> - -<p>Her head again negatived this question, and he -inquired in Spanish if she knew that tongue.</p> - -<p>The shaking of the head became mechanical, and -as the inspector knew seventeen languages, he -addressed her successively in each one of them.</p> - -<p>After she had shaken her head at them all, he -surveyed her a few seconds in meditative silence. -Then he began to talk on his fingers. She was -probably deaf and dumb.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane joyfully uncurled her hands from the -bundle on her lap. This was a safe medium of conversation, -for talking on the fingers had been a -favourite amusement of the orphans during silence -hours; and she would not be tempted to say too -much, and betray the fact that she was a runaway. -Accordingly, she spelled out the information, "I am -an orphan."</p> - -<p>"Where do you come from?" he asked her.</p> - -<p>"A long ways off," her finger tips informed him.</p> - -<p>"Name of place?"</p> - -<p>"I can't tell you," she responded.</p> - -<p>"Where are you going?" he inquired.</p> - -<p>"To—" she hesitated about the spelling of Cis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>casset, -but got something near enough to it for him -to understand.</p> - -<p>"Any relatives there?" he spelled on his fingers.</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"Going to visit?'</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"Have you any money?" he next asked her, and -she politely and speedily informed him that she had -fifty cents.</p> - -<p>"You must tell me where you come from," came -next from him in peremptory finger taps.</p> - -<p>"No, sir," she replied, with spirited movements.</p> - -<p>"Then you'll stay here till you do," he responded, -and with a yawn he rose, turned his back to her, and -looked out of the window.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane took up her dog, and slipped out of -the room. She was not frightened or sorry for the -deception she had just practised. It did not seem to -her that it was deception. For the time being she -was deaf and dumb, and, far from being alarmed by -her helpless condition, she possessed the strong conviction -that she would be well taken care of. She -had also ceased to worry about the board of lady<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> -managers, and in her present comfortable, callous -state of mind she reflected that she might stay here a -year, and they would never think of looking for her -in a railway station. She was lost to them, and she -gaily hummed a tune as she strolled to and fro on -the big wooden platform, watching the shunting -engines, the busy custom-house officers, and the -station yard employees, who were cleaning, rubbing, -scouring, and preparing cars for further journeys.</p> - -<p>At twelve o'clock, just as she was beginning to -stifle yawns, and gaze wistfully at the windows of -the dining-room, a young girl in a white apron -came and stood in the doorway, and, shading her -eyes from the sun shining in such dazzling brightness -on the snow, beckoned vigorously to 'Tilda -Jane.</p> - -<p>The little girl needed no second invitation, and, -with her dog limping behind her, trotted nimbly -toward her new friend.</p> - -<p>"Poor little soul—she's deef and dumb," said -the dining-room girl, compassionately, as she passed -a group of men in the hall. "Ain't it a pity?"</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane did not speak or smile, nor did her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> -conscience, often so troublesomely sensitive, now -give one reproving twinge. Since talking to the -inspector she felt as if deaf and dumb. She had -been officially proclaimed so, and in meek patience -she seated herself at the table, calmly pointed to -what she wished, and, being most tenderly and -assiduously waited upon by the pitying girl, ate a -large and excellent dinner.</p> - -<p>At the orphan asylum there had never been fare -such as this, and, after she had finished her chocolate -pudding, and put in her pocket a juicy orange -that she could not possibly eat, she bowed her head, -and internally and thankfully repeated the orphanage -grace after meat.</p> - -<p>"Just look at her!" exclaimed the admiring girl. -"Ain't she cute? What kind of folks must she have -to let such a poor little innocent travel alone? I -don't believe she's obstinate. That assistant inspector -is as hateful as he can be. Come, sissy, -and I'll show you to your room," and she approached -'Tilda Jane, and took her by the hand.</p> - -<p>The latter pointed to her dog, and not until she -had seen him satisfy the demands of his appetite,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> -would she consent to follow her guide to a neat -little apartment in the top of the wooden hotel.</p> - -<p>Upon arriving there, she thanked the girl by -a smile, closed the door, and, throwing herself on -her bed, was soon buried in sweet and wholesome -slumber.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER VII.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">CLEARING UP A MISTAKE.</span></h2> - - -<p>That evening, when some of the custom-house -officials and some of the guests of the hotel were -sitting tipped back in chairs in the smoking-room, -the assistant inspector said to the inspector, who -had just come in, "I couldn't make anything of -your deaf and dumb kid, Jack."</p> - -<p>"What deaf and dumb kid?" asked Jack, seating -himself, and drawing out his cigar case.</p> - -<p>"That young one with the bundle."</p> - -<p>"She ain't deaf and dumb. Her tongue's hung -as limber as yours."</p> - -<p>"Well, I swan!" said the assistant inspector, -blankly, and, as he spoke, he brought his chair -down on its four legs, and gazed about the room -with an expression of such utter helplessness that -the other men broke into a roar of laughter.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Don't cry, Blakeman," said Jack, soothingly. -"It's only once in a coon's age you're fooled."</p> - -<p>"Do you suppose the slyboots has gone to bed?" -asked Blakeman, again tipping back his chair, and -returning to his professional manner. "Uncle Sam -hasn't got any spare cash to waste on such like. -Just open the door, Rufus, and see if you see any -of the girls about."</p> - -<p>A dining-room girl good-naturedly consented to -go in search of 'Tilda Jane, and upon entering the -room found her on her knees thoughtfully looking -down at the railway tracks running close to the -hotel.</p> - -<p>Stepping forward and gently touching her shoulder, -the girl pointed down-stairs.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane nodded, smiled, and, taking her hand, -went out into the hall and down the staircases with -her. 'Tilda Jane stared at the ring of men sitting -in the smoking-room. When she caught sight of -her friend of the morning, she smiled and bobbed -her head at him, then, letting her dog slip from her -arm to the floor, she stood in silence, waiting to be -questioned.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> - -<p>She had no doubt that this was some special tribunal -called together to deliberate upon her case. She -was not afraid of these men, they had kindly faces.</p> - -<p>"What made you pretend you were deaf and -dumb?" asked the inspector, at last.</p> - -<p>She opened her mouth once or twice, tried to -speak, failed, and at last articulated with difficulty, -and with an air of genuine surprise, "Why—ain't -I deef an' dumb? I ain't spoke ever since he made -me think so till now," and she nodded toward the -assistant inspector.</p> - -<p>"I made you think so!" ejaculated Blakeman, -irritably.</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir," she said, dreamily, and lingering over -her syllables as if she found a new pleasure in the -exercise of speech. "You had so much to say, an' -the other people had so much to say, that the room -seemed chock full o' words. They was flyin' round -ever so thick, but I couldn't ketch one o' them."</p> - -<p>"Well, now, you've got to quit lying and tell us -where you come from," said the assistant inspector, -roughly. "You've got to be sent home to-morrow."</p> - -<p>"Sent home?" she repeated wonderingly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Yes—to Canada. Now tell us the name of -the place you belong to, or we'll ship you to some -poorhouse."</p> - -<p>"Do I come from Canada?" she asked, with a -mystified air.</p> - -<p>Jack jogged his assistant's elbow. "Seemed to -me there was the smell of a ship about her."</p> - -<p>"Not so," responded Blakeman who prided himself -on distinguishing nationalities. "She hasn't -any European accent. She's from right over the -border here somewhere."</p> - -<p>"Do you know my mother?" 'Tilda Jane was -eagerly asking the assistant inspector.</p> - -<p>"Yes—know her well. If you don't speak up -I'll telegraph her."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'll never speak then," said 'Tilda Jane, -taking a step forward and clasping her hands painfully. -"Oh, sir, do telegraph to my mother. I've -cried an' cried at nights 'bout her. Other girls has -mothers that loves 'em an' strokes their hair, an' -nobody ever done that to me. They just thinks I'm -ugly. Oh, sir, oh, sir, won't you telegraph my -mother?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> - -<p>Blakeman had gone too far. The sentiment of the -meeting was against him, and a low murmur warned -him to retract what he had said.</p> - -<p>"I don't mean your mother," he said, sulkily. "I -mean your guardians."</p> - -<p>"The lady-boards?" asked 'Tilda Jane, eagerly.</p> - -<p>He did not know what "lady-boards" meant, but -his silence seemed to give assent to her question, -and losing the bright flush that had come to her -face, she relapsed into painful and profound silence.</p> - -<p>He would never know how he had hurt her. Oh! -what hopes he had raised, and in an instant dashed -to the ground, and checking the convulsion in her -throat, she stealthily wiped away the two tears of -distress coursing down her thin cheeks.</p> - -<p>"Don't cry," said Jack, kindly. "I expect you're -tired from your trip in the train yesterday. You -had a pretty long one, hadn't you?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Mr. Jack," she said, humbly. "It seemed -kind o' long, but I'm not used to bein' drug along -so mighty quick."</p> - -<p>"I didn't notice her till we passed McAdam -Junction," whispered Jack to his assistant. "She's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> -come down from some place in New Brunswick. -Telegraph McAdam."</p> - -<p>"They'll not know," growled Blakeman. "Robinson -on yesterday's Montreal express is the man. -He'll be back to-night. He'll know where she got -on. If he'd reported, 'twould have saved this."</p> - -<p>"I guess he didn't think we'd struck such an -obstacle," remarked Jack, with a chuckle. Then he -said aloud, "Don't you suppose they'll be worrying -about you, sissy?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir," she said, meekly, "they'll be more mad -than worried."</p> - -<p>"You haven't lost that paper with the address, -have you?" said Jack, cunningly.</p> - -<p>"No, sir," and she put her hand to her breast.</p> - -<p>He got up and walked toward her. "Let me see -if I can read it."</p> - -<p>"There's no 'casion for that," she said, with -dignity.</p> - -<p>"You'll have to let me see it," he said, firmly, so -firmly that it being no part of her plan to "<ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'dare the undarable'">dare the -undareable</ins>," she quietly handed Hank's card to him.</p> - -<p>"Hobart Dillson, Ciscasset, Maine," he read, then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> -he gave it back to her. "Thank you, sissy. I -guess you can go to bed now."</p> - -<p>"In a minute," said 'Tilda Jane, submissively, -while she made a queer bob of a curtsey to all -present. "Gen'l'men all—before I go I must say -somethin'. Up-stairs jus' now I was ponderin' on my -wickedness. I guess you think I don't know that all -liars has their portion in the lake o' fire an' brimstone. -I knows it an' feels it, but gen'l'men I ain't -told no more lies nor I could help. That 'bout bein' -deef an' dumb I can't call a lie, 'cause I felt it, an' -I'm s'prised now to hear myself talk. But I have -told lies, an' I know it. To-day I had a boss dinner. -I went to sleep an' on my bed I dreamed. Somethin' -roared an' shook the house an' I woke in a -sweat. Did I think the devil had come after me? -Yes, sirs—gen'l'men, I've been awful bad, I don't -s'pose any of you knows what such badness is. I'm -afeared I've got to go on lyin' till I like lies better'n -truth. That's what the—what ladies I has known -said would happen to little girls as stepped aside -from the paths of righteousness."</p> - -<p>The men were all staring at her, the assistant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> -inspector most intently, for this flow of language -from the supposedly deaf and dumb child surprised -even him—a man used to surprises.</p> - -<p>"I'm goin' to repent some day," continued 'Tilda -Jane, sadly, "just as soon as I get out o' this, an' -enjoyin' fam'ly life. I'm goin' to repent of all 'cept -one thing, an' I can't repent 'bout that 'cause I -dunno if it's wrong. Do you like dogs?" and she -abruptly addressed the assistant inspector.</p> - -<p>"No," he said, brusquely.</p> - -<p>"What do you like?" she went on, wistfully, -"cats, birds, children—do you like girls, sir, nice -little girls with blue eyes an' curly hair?"</p> - -<p>The assistant inspector was a remarkably fine -blond specimen of a man, and, as he was popular -among the young women of the neighbourhood, -'Tilda Jane's artless question produced a burst of -laughter from his companions, and a furious flaming -of colour in his own face.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a name="p092" id="p092"></a> -<img src="images/p092.jpg" width="500" alt="" /> -<div class="caption">"'I'M GOIN' TO REPENT SOME DAY.'"</div> -<p class="rt"><a href="#LOI">[Back to LOI]</a></p> -</div> - -<p>Her question had gone home, and she proceeded. -"Suppose you had a nice little girl an' some one wanted -to take her away, an' frighten her, an' tie jinglin' things -to her an' make her run, an' you'd ketch her up an' -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>run off to the woods, would that be awful wicked, -do you s'pose, an' would you have to repent?"</p> - -<p>The assistant inspector preserved a discreet and -resentful silence, but two or three of his companions -murmured between their pipe-stems and their lips, -"Not much he wouldn't."</p> - -<p>"Now that's what troubles me," 'Tilda Jane continued. -"The rest is bad, but is that bad? I guess -I'll have to ask some minister, an', gen'l'men all, -I guess you'd better let me go on to Ciscasset. -You've got a nice place here, an' plenty o' things -to eat, an' I think you're very fair, but I feel like -movin' on," and pausing, she anxiously scanned the -row of faces about her.</p> - -<p>"Run away to bed now," said Jack. "We'll tell -you to-morrow what you're to do," and as 'Tilda -Jane picked up her pet and disappeared, he sauntered -across the room, took up a telegraph form, and -addressed a message to the creamery shark's father.</p> - -<div class="blockquot fs80"> - -<p>"Hobart Dillson, Ciscasset. Girl, age about twelve. Dark -hair, eyes—run away from place unknown. Going to your -address. Held as immigrant without means. Refuses to give -name. Can you supply any information? Answer paid for."</p></div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER VIII.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">A THIRD RUNNING AWAY.</span></h2> - - -<p>"Look here, little girl," said Jack, stopping 'Tilda -Jane as she was coming out of the dining-room the -next morning, "I've had a telegram from your friend -in Ciscasset."</p> - -<p>"An' what does he say?" she asked, breathlessly.</p> - -<p>"I'll read it," and he drew a paper from his -pocket. "Never heard of girl. Don't want her. -Hobart Dillson."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane looked crestfallen, but did not flinch -in face of the new difficulty. "He's a cranky ole -man. He'll be all right when I talk to him."</p> - -<p>"Well, you're a queer fish," muttered her friend, -as by way of hiding her chagrin she went quickly -up-stairs. "We can't do anything with you till -Robinson gets back, and tells us where he picked -you up."</p> - -<p>The assistant inspector met her in the hall above.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> -"Have you made up your mind to talk yet?" he -asked, austerely.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane shook her head.</p> - -<p>"I've been amusing myself by telegraphing along -the line," he said, in the same tone of voice. "None -of the stations know anything about you, and the -agent at McAdam has started off in the woods for -his holidays. The conductor that brought you is -laid up from an accident to his train, so you've got -to speak for yourself; and do you know what I've -made up my mind to do?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir," she said, steadily.</p> - -<p>"By to-night if you won't tell me where you -come from, I'm going to take that dog away from -you."</p> - -<p>Her face turned a sickly yellow, but she did not -quail. "You wouldn't shoot him, would you?"</p> - -<p>"No, I won't shoot him," he said, deliberately. -"I guess I'd give him to some nice little girl who -wouldn't tell lies."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane's head sank on her breast. "Gimme -till to-morrow morning, sir. I'd like to think it -over."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I'll see about it," he said, with a curious glance -at her; then he went away.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane knew that he would give her till the -morning. She would not be troubled by him all -day. She would have time to think. The worst -difficulty in her experience confronted her. She -would lose her dog in any case. To speak was to -be sent back to the asylum, to remain silent was -to let her Gippie become the cherished darling of -some other girl, and in mute agony she caressed -the smooth brown head, and put her hand before -the almost sightless eyes as if she would hide from -them even a suspicion of coming danger.</p> - -<p>Mr. Jack had just stepped on one of the out-going -trains. She could not appeal to him, and the -table-girls, since they had found that she was a -story-teller, slighted her in a most marked way.</p> - -<p>She wandered down-stairs and out-of-doors. All -day she loitered about the station platform watching -the trains come in,—deliberate freight-trains, -with their loads of merchandise, all to be examined -by the busy customs officials, and rushing express -trains, with their hundreds of hungry passengers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> -who swept in crowds into the spacious dining-room.</p> - -<p>She saw her companions in captivity borne away. -The fashionable lady got on a train that was entering -Canada, and the dismal boy and girl followed -her. The little German Jew, who had been roaming -about the hotel like a restless ghost, always with -his hat on and a bundle in his hand as if he wished -to impress all beholders with the fact that he was -only tarrying for a short time, had, on the receipt -of a telegram informing the inspectors that he had -merely forgotten his papers, become a happy maniac. -He ran to and fro, he collected his bundles, dropped -them, to kiss the hand of a table-girl who gave him -some cakes for his lunch, and had to be restrained -by main force from boarding every train that pulled -up at the station.</p> - -<p>Fortunate travellers and unfortunate orphan! -She could not get on one of the trains and be borne -away. She was watched; she felt it, for she had -now a perfect comprehension of the system of -espionage established over unsuspecting travellers. -The rich and well-dressed ones were passed by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> -unless they were wearing sealskin wraps, the poor -and penniless must give an account of themselves. -So there was no escape for her by train. She must -take to the road.</p> - -<p>She had better go lie down and try to sleep, she -reflected with a shudder, as she had now before her -the prospect of another night in the woods. As -soon as it got dark, she must try to slip away from -the hotel.</p> - -<p>At six o'clock she had had her nap and was in -her favourite spot on her knees by her open window. -Night was approaching, and she felt neither sorry, -nor frightened, nor apprehensive. The sun was -going down, and she was so completely wrapped in -deep and silent content that she could neither speak -nor think. She did not know that she was an ardent -lover of nature—that her whole soul was at the -present moment so filled with the glory of the winter -evening that she had no room for her own troubles.</p> - -<p>The clanging supper-bell disturbed her, and, with -a sigh and a look of longing farewell at the sky, -she closed the window and made her way to the -dining-room.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span></p> - -<p>After supper she returned to her post, and, as -she could not now see the glorious sky and the -snowy fields, she let her attention fall upon the -trains below that had begun to have a strange -fascination for her. She had lost all fear of them -by this time, and had even begun to notice that -there were differences in them just as there were -differences in people. Some were big and bulky, -others were quick and dashing. Some had hoarse -voices, some clear ones. The Canadian engines -coming in shrieked in one tone, the American ones, -passing them from the other direction, replied in -another.</p> - -<p>Hour after hour went by, and with the time her -sense of dreamy contentment faded away. It gave -her but little dismay to look out into the starlit -night and fancy herself alone in snowy solitudes, -but it gave her considerable dismay to look down -below, and find that the hotel was neither getting -dark nor perfectly quiet, as she fancied all well-regulated -houses did at night. She had forgotten -that they could not sleep here, at least everybody -could not. Trains were coming and going all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> -time, and with this constant supervision below, how -could she evade detection?</p> - -<p>"Number seventeen is an hour late and getting -later every minute," she heard some one call after -a time; "bad snow-drifts up north."</p> - -<p>"Guess I'll take a wink of sleep," a tired voice -responded, "there'll be nothing but freights for a -spell," and then followed comparative silence.</p> - -<p>Footsteps were only occasionally heard, fewer -lights flashed in the distance, and it was only at -much longer intervals that passing trains shook -the house. There was a lull in the constant -noises, and now was the time for action. She -rose stealthily, and took her dog in her arms—a -pathetic child figure no longer, but a wary, stealthy -little elf endeavouring to escape from danger -threatened by these larger and more powerful -human beings.</p> - -<p>Her sleeping-room was a tiny chamber opening -out of one occupied by two of the dining-room -girls. She was not afraid of their waking. She -had heard them say as they undressed that they had -to get up at half-past four to iron table-cloths and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> -napkins, and there was not an instant's interruption -of their heavy, dreamless slumber as she stole noiselessly -by them.</p> - -<p>Now for the staircase. She paused anxiously at -the top, and looked down. There was no one in -sight, and holding her breath, and tiptoeing cautiously, -she stole down step by step.</p> - -<p>At last she was at the bottom of both flights of -stairs. So far so good, and she laid her hand on -the knob of the front door that was never locked. -But stop, let her pause—there were sounds outside.</p> - -<p>Some one out there hesitated, halted, and remarked -to some other person behind, "Will you -come in and have a bite of something to eat?"</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane scarcely dared to breathe, and, gazing -down the hall behind her, shook in her substantial -shoes. She could see the office at the end of the -hall, and the sleepy clerk napping at his desk. If -she retreated toward him, he might wake up and -discover her, and if the men entered she could not -possibly avoid being caught by them.</p> - -<p>In intense anxiety she awaited results. There -were only a few seconds of uncertainty, then her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -heart gave a bound of thankfulness. The footsteps -had passed on, and only waiting till they died away, -she opened the door and glided through.</p> - -<p>Now she was on the brightly lighted platform at -the mercy of any passer-by, or any wakeful person -who might be at one of the hotel windows. She -made one swift rush across it, one leap over the -railway tracks, and with a stifled exclamation of -thankfulness found herself on the village road.</p> - -<p>Like a dark, diminutive ghost she sped up the -hill past the silent houses. Now she was comparatively -safe, yet which way should she go? She was -completely puzzled, yet she had a vague idea that -there were great forests surrounding Vanceboro, for -she had heard the men at the hotel talk of fishing -and shooting.</p> - -<p>Trembling in every limb from excitement, and -pressing her precious bundle closely to her, she took -a road to the left. She must not go to the right, -for across the river was Canada, and if she got into -that foreign country again, she would have fresh -difficulties in returning to her own native one. She -would press on through the village, take to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> -woods, and trust to luck to find some house where -she could ask the way to Ciscasset.</p> - -<p>There was a moon to-night, an old, pale moon, -and it cast a tremulous light over the soft, white -fields sloping down to the Sainte-Croix River, the -sleeping village, and the brightly lighted station yard -in the hollow. She turned around, took one farewell -glance at the habitations of men, and plunged into -the winding road leading into the heart of the forest.</p> - -<p>Hour after hour she plodded on. This reminded -her of her walk with Ruth Ann two evenings before, -only here there was more light, the snow was deeper, -and the trees were not as high as those on the way -to the Moss Glen station. She hoped with a shiver -that she should meet no wild beasts. Hark! What -was that crashing through the alder bushes? She -stopped short, clasped her dog to her breast, and -looked about for some means of defence. Nothing -offered but a dry tree branch, and she was just -bending over to seize it when there rushed by her, -so quickly that she had no time to be afraid, an -object that caused a faint smile of pleasure to come -to her pale lips.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p> - -<p>This was a large deerhound running along with -his nose to the snow, and he paid no more attention -to her than if she had been one of the stumps by -the side of the road.</p> - -<p>"Here, doggie, doggie!" she called, wistfully, but -he did not return, and, startled by the sound of her -voice in the intense stillness, she hastily resumed -her way.</p> - -<p>How solemn the moon was, staring down at her -with that section of a face on which she fancied she -saw an ear, the corner of a mouth, and one terrible, -glistening eye. "Little girl, where are you going? -Are you doing right? Are you not a naughty little -girl?"</p> - -<p>"I can't think about it now," she said, desperately. -"When I git settled down I'll square things -up. Anyway, I'm not bad for the fun of it. Law -me, ain't this road long! Here, Gippie, I guess you -might walk a few steps. Keep in my tracks an' I'll -not let anythin' hurt you. If a bear comes, he'll -eat me first. It'll do you good to stretch your legs -a mite."</p> - -<p>Away back in the hotel Mr. Jack was just getting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> -home. "We can let our deaf and dumb kid go in -the morning," he said to his assistant, who got on -the train as he left it. "The waitress at McAdam -was just inquiring about her—says she's U. S. -all right. Came from Moss Glen station, didn't -know Ciscasset when she got to it, and was carried -on. Agent forgot to speak to Robinson about her, -and the waitress wanted to know if she got through -all right."</p> - -<p>"U. S.," grumbled the assistant inspector, pausing -with his foot on the steps of the baggage-car, "why -didn't she say so?"</p> - -<p>"Was frightened—I guess she'd run away—a -case of innocence abroad."</p> - -<p>"Well, we can't hold her if she isn't an immigrant," -said Blakeman, with relief. "Let her go. -They've got a poorhouse in Ciscasset, I suppose."</p> - -<p>"She'll go in no poorhouse," said Mr. Jack, with -a chuckle. "She's too smart."</p> - -<p>If he could have seen at that moment the weary -little figure toiling along the forest road, he would -have uttered the appreciative adjective with even -more energy. Tired, hungry, occasionally stooping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> -to lift a handful of snow to her lips, 'Tilda Jane -plodded on. Her thin figure was bent from fatigue. -She had again picked up the wailing dog, and had -slung him on her back in the shawl, yet there was -not the slightest indication of faltering in her aspect. -There were no clearings in the woods, no promise -of settlement, yet her face was ever toward the -promised land of Ciscasset, and her back to the -place of captivity in Vanceboro.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER IX.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">LOST IN THE WOODS.</span></h2> - - -<p>Nothing could be more exquisitely beautiful than -that winter morning in the Maine woods. The -white glory of the snow, the stealing pink and gold -glances of the sun, the bravery of the trees proudly -rearing their heads aloft and stretching out their -heavily laden arms,—all made a picture that filled -with awe even the heart of rough Bob Lucas, unregistered -guide and nominal lumberman, noted for his -skill as hunter and poacher and his queer mingling -of honesty, law-breaking, piety, and profanity.</p> - -<p>No, it was not a picture, it was reality, and he was -a part of it. He was in it, he belonged to this -glorious morning, the morning belonged to him, and -he put up his hand and pulled off his cap.</p> - -<p>"Branching candlesticks on the altar of the -Lord," he muttered as he surveyed the trees. "I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> -feel like a vessel o' grace, more's the pity I can't -take on the actions o' one."</p> - -<p>He stood lounging in the cabin door—red-haired, -long-nosed, unkempt, and stalwart. Inside were his -two sons getting the breakfast, and the appetising -odour of frying bacon floated out on the fresh -air.</p> - -<p>"Hi, Poacher—whot's up with you?" he suddenly -exclaimed, and his gaze went to a deerhound -of unusually sturdy build, who was ploughing -through the snow toward the cabin.</p> - -<p>The dog wagged his tail, advanced, and, lifting -toward him a countenance so bright with intelligence -that it might almost be called human, opened -his mouth, and dropped something at his master's -feet.</p> - -<p>"Hello, boys!" said the man, stepping inside the -cabin; "what in the name o' creation's this? I -call it a morsel of woman's togs. Don't your -mother wear aprons like it, or somethin'?"</p> - -<p>The two strapping lads in high boots and woollen -shirts turned their red faces from the fireplace.</p> - -<p>"Yes, siree," said the taller of them, fingering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> -the scrap of cotton; "they call it something like -jingo."</p> - -<p>"Gingham, you gull," interposed his brother, with -a guffaw of laughter. "I've seen it in the stores. -Where'd you get it, pop?"</p> - -<p>"Poacher fetched it. When I got out o' my -bunk this mornin' an' opened the door, he put up -that ole muzzle of his an' give a sniff. Then off -he sot. I knew he'd got somethin' on his mind. -He's been runnin' deer, an' he found this on his -way back."</p> - -<p>"He's a beaut," said the other lad, eyeing him -admiringly. "He's nosed out something. What'll -you do, pop?"</p> - -<p>"Swaller some breakfast an' make tracks for -Morse's camp."</p> - -<p>"S'pose it was some person," said the younger of -the boys, uneasily.</p> - -<p>"By gum!" and the man suddenly smote his -thigh, "s'pose the ole woman had run after us with -somethin'. Hustle on your coats, boys. Mebbe it's -your ma."</p> - -<p>The faces of both boys had turned white, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> -their hands were shaking. Seizing their coats, they -rushed out of the cabin.</p> - -<p>"Pop, it wasn't bitter last night," said the younger, -in a hushed voice.</p> - -<p>"Shut up!" said his father, irritably, and in profound -silence the three proceeded through the wood -in single file, following the dog who, without excitement, -but with his dark face beaming with pleasure -at being understood, rapidly led them over his own -tracks of a few minutes previous.</p> - -<p>Mile after mile they went in silence, until at last -the father, who was leading, made a leap forward.</p> - -<p>There was a dark mound on the snow against a -tree trunk, and dropping beside it he turned it over.</p> - -<p>"Thank the Lord!" he ejaculated, while scratching -and beating the snow away from it, "it ain't -what I feared."</p> - -<p>"Why, it's only a gal," said one of the boys. "Is -she gone, pop?"</p> - -<p>"Here—shake her up," he replied. "What's -this she's curled round? A dog, sure as thunder, -an' alive an' warm. Merciful grindstones, look at -him!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span></p> - -<p>Irritably stepping out of wrappings, consisting of -a small tippet and a shawl, was a little old dog, the -most utter contrast to the handsome deerhound that -could have been imagined.</p> - -<p>The hound stared inquiringly and politely at Gippie, -and, being a denizen of the woods, made the -first overtures to friendship by politely touching him -with the end of his muzzle.</p> - -<p>The smaller dog snapped at him, whereupon the -hound withdrew in dignified silence, and watched his -owners, who were making vigorous efforts to restore -the benumbed girl.</p> - -<p>"Her heart's beatin'," said Lucas, putting his -hand on it. "The dog lay there, an' kep' it warm."</p> - -<p>"Rub her feet—rub harder," he said to his sons, -while he himself began chafing 'Tilda Jane's wrists. -"She's jist the age o' your sister Min. S'pose she -was here, stone cold an' half dead!"</p> - -<p>The boys redoubled their efforts at resuscitation, -and presently a faint colour appeared in the little -girl's marble cheeks, and the cold lips slightly moved.</p> - -<p>Lucas put his head down. "What you sayin'? -Dog, is it? He's all right. If you'd wrapped your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>self -more, an' him less, it might 'a' bin better. Yet, -I guess not. If it hadn't 'a' bin for the dog, you'd -'a' bin dead. Put on her shoes, boys. We'll carry -her to that heap o' logs of ours."</p> - -<p>"Pop, will one of us have to show her out?" said -Joe, anxiously pressing beside him.</p> - -<p>"Yep," said his father. "Here, strip off your -coat an' put it round her."</p> - -<p>"An' I s'pose I'll hev to go 'cause I'm the youngest," -said the boy, bitterly.</p> - -<p>"No, sir—you're always doin' dirty work. This -time it'll be Zebedee."</p> - -<p>Zebedee frowned, and muttered that he wished -girls would stay out o' the woods; then he tramped -on beside his brother.</p> - -<p>"Here, gimme my gun," said Lucas, presently. -"You-uns is younger. You kin carry the gal."</p> - -<p>He had been carrying 'Tilda Jane over his shoulder, -and now the little procession started again, this -time with the boys bearing the semi-unconscious -burden.</p> - -<p>Gippie, squealing and complaining, followed behind -as well as he was able, but finally, becoming<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> -stuck in a drift, gave a despairing yell and disappeared.</p> - -<p>Lucas turned around, went in the direction of -the crooked tail sticking up from the snow, and -pulling him out, contemptuously took him under -his arm.</p> - -<p>"If you was my dog, you'd get a bullet to eat. -Howsomever, you ain't, an' I guess we'll hev to -keep you for the leetle gal. Git on thar, sons."</p> - -<p>Two hours later, 'Tilda Jane opened her eyes on -a new world. Where had her adventures brought -her this time? Had she died and gone to heaven? -No, this must be earth, for she had just heard a -string of very bad words uttered by some one near -her. But she could not think about anything. A -feeling of delicious languor overpowered her, and -slowly opening and shutting her eyes, she little by -little allowed her surroundings to impress themselves -upon her.</p> - -<p>She was very warm and comfortable; she was -sitting on the floor, propped against the wall by -means of an overturned chair and blankets; a fire -in an open fireplace blazed beside her; Gippie was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> -making his toilet before this fire, and she was very -happy.</p> - -<p>"Here, sup this," some one said, and languidly -lifting her eyelids, she saw a big red-haired man -bending over her.</p> - -<p>He was holding a cup to her lips—coffee sweetened -with molasses. Just what they used to have -at the asylum, and with a faint smile, and a feeble -"Thank you, sir," she slowly swallowed it.</p> - -<p>"I was scared to give you any before," he said, -gruffly; "thought you might choke. Here, gimme -some grub, sons."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane felt a morsel of something put in her -mouth. It was followed by another morsel of something -hot and savoury, and speedily she felt new life -in her veins. She could sit up now, and look about -her.</p> - -<p>"Guess you can feed yourself," said the man, -going back to the table. "Fall to now—you most -got to the end of your tether."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane took the two-pronged fork he put in -her hand, and began to eat with slow avidity, not -disregarding the requests for titbits from her dog,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> -who occasionally paused for that purpose in his -endeavours to lick himself dry.</p> - -<p>At intervals she cast a glance at the centre of -the cabin, where a man and two boys were seated -at a rough table. These must be her rescuers. She -had fallen down in the snow the night before. Not -even her fear of death had been able to keep her on -her feet.</p> - -<p>She stopped eating. "Who be you?"</p> - -<p>"We be lumbermen, when the fit takes us," said -the man, shortly.</p> - -<p>"Well," said 'Tilda Jane, "I guess—" then she -stopped, overpowered by intense feeling.</p> - -<p>"I guess," she went on, finally, "that there -wouldn't 'a' bin much o' me this morning if it hadn't -bin for you comin'."</p> - -<p>"'Twasn't us," said the man, agreeably, "'twas -Poacher there," and he indicated the dog under the -table, who, at the mention of his name, rose and -walked politely toward the little girl.</p> - -<p>He looked at her and she looked at him, then he -took a step nearer and laid his muzzle on her -shoulder. With exquisite subtlety he comprehended<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> -all that she wished to say in relation to himself, -and all that she felt in relation to the dog race in -general.</p> - -<p>She laid her cheek against his velvet ear. Then -her arm stole around his neck.</p> - -<p>The dog stood in courteous silence, until, feeling -embarrassed under her attention, he looked somewhat -foolishly at his master, and appealingly licked -'Tilda Jane's cheek.</p> - -<p>As quick to understand him as he was to understand -her, she released him, whereupon he lay -down beside her and put his handsome head on -her lap.</p> - -<p>Gippie extended his muzzle, sniffed suspiciously, -then his short-sighted eyes discovering the presence -of a rival, he advanced snapping.</p> - -<p>The large dog generously averted his head, and -Gippie, seeing that he was not to be dislodged, -meanly curled himself up on Poacher's glossy -back.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a name="p116" id="p116"></a> -<img src="images/p116.jpg" width="650" alt="" /> -<div class="caption">"HE LAY DOWN BESIDE HER."</div> -<p class="rt"><a href="#LOI">[Back to LOI]</a></p> -</div> - -<p>"Yes, that's a boss dog," the man went on. -"Search the State from Fort Kent to Kittery -Depot, and you'll not find a cuter. He's given me -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>pointers many a time—where you hail from, leetle -gal?"</p> - -<p>"I'm going to Ciscasset," she said, dreamily. -Her mind was running back to the night before, -and, unaware that she was holding a piece of -bacon poised on her fork in tempting proximity -to Poacher's nose, she stared intently at the fire.</p> - -<p>She had been near death. Had she been near -the heaven that the matron and the "lady-boards" -pictured, or would it have been the other place, on -account of her disobedience?</p> - -<p>"The soul that sinneth it shall die"—"For whosoever -shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in -one point, he is guilty of all"—"Keep thyself -pure"—"For without are dogs, and sorcerers, -and murderers, and idolaters, and whosoever loveth -and maketh a lie"—that meant without the city, -the beautiful city of gold where her mother probably -was, and many of her unknown relatives, -and where all good matrons, orphans, and "lady-boards" -went.</p> - -<p>"I guess I'd bin without, with no comfort but -the dogs," she thought bitterly, and pushing away<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> -her plate, she said aloud, "I thank ye kindly, but -I can't swaller another morsel."</p> - -<p>A roar of laughter saluted her ears. Gippie's -inquiring muzzle had scented out the bacon and -had seized it, whereupon Poacher, knowing that it -was not intended for him, had gently but firmly -taken it from him, and was walking about the -cabin, holding it aloft, while Gippie snarled at his -heels.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane paid no attention to them. The -greater matter of her soul's destiny was under -consideration. "Are you an extry good man?" -she abruptly asked her host.</p> - -<p>He stopped laughing, and a shadow came over -his face. Then his glance went to his boys. -"What you say, sons?"</p> - -<p>The boys stared at each other, avoided his eye, -and said, uneasily, "Course you be, pop—don't -make game."</p> - -<p>"Make game," repeated the man, strangely, -"make game," then he laughed shortly, and made -another onslaught on the bacon and bread.</p> - -<p>"'Cause I'm lookin' for an extry good person,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -went on 'Tilda Jane, brusquely. "Some one that -won't blab, an' that I kin tell a story to."</p> - -<p>"Well, thar ain't no extry good persons in the -woods," said her host, "we be only ordinary. You -better wait till you git out. What was you doin' -so far from houses last night, leetle gal, 'stead o' -bein' tucked snug in bed?"</p> - -<p>"I might as well tell the truth," she said, helplessly. -"I'm tired o' lies. I was runnin' away -from somethin', but whether my runnin' was good -or bad is what I can't make out."</p> - -<p>"While you're puzzlin' you eat some more breakfus'," -said the man, getting up and putting another -supply of bacon on her plate. "You've got to -call up strength to git out. I s'pose you dunno -you're some miles from sofas, an' pianos, an' easy -chairs."</p> - -<p>"I didn't know where I was goin'," she said, apologetically, -"or what I was comin' to. I jus' travelled -on an' on. Then I begun to get queery an' I left -the road. Thinks I, there'll be kind animiles in the -woods. Mebbe I'll meet a nice black bear, an' he'll -say, 'Little girl, you're lost an' I'll lead you to my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> -den. We'll be happy to have you an' your little -dog, an' I'll not let no one eat him, an' I'll give a big -party an' invite all the foxes, an' deer, an' bears an' -squirrels 'cause you're fond o' wild beasts, little girl.' -An' it seemed I'd come to the bear's den, an' there -was a soft bed, an' I just lay down, an' was goin' to -sleep when I thought, 'Mebbe if I sleep, some little -bird'll tell him I'm a baddie, an' he'll eat me up,' an' -I felt just awful; then I forgot everythin' till I woke -up here—I guess I'm obliged to you."</p> - -<p>The lumberman was about to reply to her when -one of the boys ejaculated, "Hist, pop, look at -Poacher!"</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER X.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">AMONG FRIENDS.</span></h2> - - -<p>The animal had gone to the door, and stood in a -listening attitude.</p> - -<p>"Some one's comin'," said the boy. "Is everythin' -snug?"</p> - -<p>The three cast hurried glances about the room, -then shaking off a somewhat uneasy expression, the -man stepped to the one and only window of the -cabin.</p> - -<p>"Game warden Perch," he said, dryly, "and registered -guide Hersey. Comin' spyin' round—bad -luck to 'em," and he sulkily went back to the -table.</p> - -<p>Presently there came a knocking at the door. -"Come in," bawled Lucas, not inhospitably, and two -men, much smarter, cleaner, and more dapper-looking -than the red-haired man and his sons, entered the -cabin.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Howdye," they said simultaneously, as they stood -their guns and snow-shoes against the wall, and took -possession of the two boxes vacated by the boys at a -sign from their father. Then, with an appearance of -enjoyment, they dragged the boxes near the fire, and -stretched out their hands to the blaze.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane saw that they were staring in unmitigated -astonishment at her, and with a feeling that -she herself was out of the world and in a place where -passers-by were few and infrequent, she examined -them in equal interest.</p> - -<p>"Where'd you come from?" asked the elder of -them at last, fixing her with a pair of piercing -eyes.</p> - -<p>"She got keeled over on the old road last night," -spoke up Lucas, much to her relief. "Lost her -way. Dog here, found her," and he motioned toward -Poacher, who was surveying the newcomers in cold -curiosity.</p> - -<p>Warden Perch's attention being drawn to the dog, -he stared at him earnestly, then turned to his companion. -"Ever see that animal before?"</p> - -<p>"Not near at hand," said the other, with a slight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> -sneer. "Guess' I've seen his hind legs and the tip -of his tail once or twice."</p> - -<p>"Hev some breakfus?" said Lucas, who was imperturbably -going on with his own.</p> - -<p>Warden Perch inspected the table. "Not on bacon—haven't -you got something more uncommon?"</p> - -<p>"We've got some beans in thar," said Lucas, with -a backward nod of his head toward a bag on the -floor, "coarse brown beans. They might be a treat -for ye, seein' ye don't git 'em much in hotels."</p> - -<p>Perch flushed angrily and opened his mouth as if -to make a retort. Then he drew a blank book from -his pocket, and to calm himself ran his eye over the -report he was making for the game commissioner of -the State.</p> - -<p>"Left Nexter 10.55 <span class="fs70">A. M.</span> March 1, for Bluefield. -March 2 at Bearville 11.30 <span class="fs70">A. M.</span> Jim Greene's camp -Lake Clear at 4.35 <span class="fs70">P. M.</span> March 3 left camp at 7 <span class="fs70">A. M.</span> -Bill Emerson's camp 9.47 <span class="fs70">A. M.</span> Reached moose yard -on back side Fern Brook Ridge 1.47 <span class="fs70">P. M.</span> 3 moose -in yard—Henry," he said, lifting his head and -abruptly addressing his companion, "some of those -poachers have mighty cute tricks."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> - -<p>Henry nodded assent.</p> - -<p>"Those fellows at Hacmactac Station tried hard -to fool us last week,—cut the legs off the deer, then -got a couple of bears' feet and had the bone of the -bear's leg slipped up under the skin on the leg of the -deer. Then they put them up so sly in three layers -of bagging with nothing but bears' feet sticking out, -but I caught on to those bears' legs, and said the -feet weren't big enough. So I had it opened and -took the deer and the fellows to Mattawamkeag, and -I guess they think forty dollars apiece was just about -enough for a fine."</p> - -<p>Lucas and his sons burst out laughing, and 'Tilda -Jane shrewdly suspected by their amused faces and -knowing glances that they had heard the story before. -There was no love lost between these newcomers -and her preservers, and Lucas and his sons -would be glad when their callers left the cabin. But -what was all this talk about deer? Surely they did -not kill the pretty creatures whom without having -seen she loved.</p> - -<p>She cleared her throat and in a weak little voice -addressed the game warden. "Sir, I've got pictures<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> -in my joggafry of deer with branching horns. Does -bad men kill them?"</p> - -<p>Warden Perch gave her another alert glance. -Here was no confederate of poachers. "Yes," he -said, severely, "bad men do kill them, and dogs chase -them, but mind this, young girl—poachers get -nabbed in the long run. They slide for a time, but -there's a trip-up at the end. And their dogs, too—I've -shot three hounds this week for dogging -deer."</p> - -<p>"You have shot dogs!" repeated 'Tilda Jane, in -a horrified tone, and pressing Gippie closer to her.</p> - -<p>"If I didn't shoot them, they'd kill the deer," said -the man, irritably.</p> - -<p>"Oh!" murmured 'Tilda Jane. Here was one -of the mysteries of nature that was quite beyond her -comprehension. The dog hunted the deer, and the -man hunted the dog. The deer apparently was the -weaker one, and she must inquire into the matter.</p> - -<p>"What does bad men kill deer for?" she asked, -timidly.</p> - -<p>"Haven't you ever eaten any deer meat?" asked -the warden.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I didn't know it was good to eat," she said, -sadly.</p> - -<p>"You haven't had any here in this cabin?"</p> - -<p>"I guess not, unless I might 'a' eat it when I was -fainty."</p> - -<p>Lucas eyed her peculiarly, and the meaning of the -warden's question and offensive manner burst upon -her. "That's a good man," she said, indignantly, -starting from her half-reclining position and pointing -to Lucas. "I guess men that takes little girls out -o' snow-banks don't kill deer."</p> - -<p>Warden Perch laughed and rose from his seat. -He had very little sentiment with regard to the -animal creation. "I calculate we'd better be moving," -he said, to the guide. "Don't suppose we'd -see anything to keep us here, unless we'd hang on -for the big snow-storm they say is coming, and that -I expect you're waiting for," and he looked at Lucas.</p> - -<p>"Me an' my sons," said the latter, coolly, "is on -our way to David Morse's lumber camp. Two of -his hands had to come out 'count o' sickness. We -lay out to git thar this evenin'. Was late in startin' -last night, an' camped here. We'll hev to git this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> -leetle gal out, 'thout you might undertake it, seein' -as you're makin' for outside, I s'pose."</p> - -<p>"Get your own find out," said the warden, severely; -"it will keep you out of mischief, and look -here—if I find that dog of yours up to tricks, you -know what I'll do."</p> - -<p>"Shoot him on sight," said Lucas, stooping and -patting the animal who was pressing close to him; -"but you'll never ketch him, 'cause he ain't the sort -o' dog to be ketched in any kind o' mischief; hey, -Poacher?"</p> - -<p>The guide went out, and the warden with a scowl -followed, slamming the door after him.</p> - -<p>Lucas and his sons crowded to the window to see -their callers depart, and when they were fairly out -of sight, they burst into relieved laughter, and noisily -drew their boxes up to the fire.</p> - -<p>"Say, pop, ain't he mad?" remarked Joe, excitedly. -"Mad 'cause you're too cute for him. -He'd give his teeth to fasten something on to you."</p> - -<p>"Shut up," said his father, with a roll of his eye -toward 'Tilda Jane.</p> - -<p>The girl was puzzled. Lucas, who seemed a nice<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> -man, was treated as if he were not a friend to the -deer, while the departed ones, whom she did not like -at all, seemed to be their protectors. "Who are -those men?" she asked, curiously.</p> - -<p>"Wal, I'll tell you," said Lucas, taking two moose -ear skins from his pocket, and fitting them together -to make a tobacco-pouch, "them two is fancy game -men. The warden an' the guide likes to lounge in -easy chairs round hotels an' tell of their doin's in -the woods, how the poachers tremble an' run when -they see 'em comin'. As a rule, they don't take to -the woods till they're druv to it by some complaint. -Then they're awful fierce, an' growl an' show their -teeth, an' run home. Nobody don't care nothin' -for 'em."</p> - -<p>"Are there many men killing deer?" asked the -little girl, falteringly.</p> - -<p>"Many men!" groaned Lucas. "Law me, what -a question! Las' year, leetle gal, thar was awful -heavy snow, eight foot deep in Franklin County, -seven foot in Somerset, Piscataquis, Penobscot, and -Aroostook. What a year for big game! They -couldn't git away. They was as helpless as sheep.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> -Storm came on storm, till we was walkin' up among -the tree branches and knockin' off the snow with -a stick. Snow covered tracks, and poachers took -possession o' the airth."</p> - -<p>"They lived high in the lumber camps, pop, do -you mind?" said Zebedee, smacking his lips. -"When a fellow was starvin' the smell just come -out to meet him."</p> - -<p>"You bet, only you wasn't thar to smell it," said -his father, sharply, "you mind that. You young -ones takes to the woods too natural."</p> - -<p>He surveyed them with mingled pride and dissatisfaction, -then came back to his reminiscences. "I -vum that was a winter, but the deer would 'a' starved -if they hadn't been shot, for the snow was so deep -that they couldn't get to their food. That there -Perch made a great flurry about gettin' in an' -drivin' six deer to a swamp where they could git -green stuff, but I don't believe a word of it. I believe -he shot and ate them."</p> - -<p>"Do you mind the deer that was dogged into our -yard, pop?" exclaimed Joe. "I saw 'em as they -crossed the river—dog not fifteen foot behind."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p> - -<p>"And what became of that deer?" asked 'Tilda -Jane, unsteadily.</p> - -<p>Lucas winked at his sons and concluded the story -himself. "He run across our yard, an' among the -bark pilers at Meek an' Sons' tannery. When the -animal come runnin' down between the bark piles, -some of the crew was for killin' him, but I was -workin' thar, an' I wouldn't let 'em. He stayed -round close to us all day, an' when any dog come -an' sniffed at him, he'd run up close an' tremble, -an' ask us to see fair play."</p> - -<p>"You killed that deer," exclaimed 'Tilda Jane, -bursting into tears. "Oh! why does God let men -be so wicked?"</p> - -<p>Sobs were almost tearing her little, lean frame to -pieces. She had not worked up gradually to a -pitch of emotion, but had fallen immediately into it, -and Lucas and his sons stared wonderingly at her.</p> - -<p>Poor little girl! She looked as if she had come -through a sea of troubles, and pity stirred in the -man's rough but not unkindly breast.</p> - -<p>"Shut up now, shut up, missy," he said, soothingly. -"We did shoot that feller, but thar warn't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> -nowhere to keep him, but deer has bin kep'. Soft -now, an' I'll tell ye of Seth Winthrop, who has a -park an' is a rich man. Las' year, when you couldn't -go scarce five mile without seein' tracks o' blood in -the snow where some one had been slaughterin', a -moose was chased near Winthrop's place. He was -so dead beat that he jus' stood an' trembled, an' one -o' Winthrop's men put a halter on him, an' led him -to the barnyard an' give him fodder an' drink, an' -that livin' young moose is in Winthrop's park to-day, -an' he weighs four hundred pound."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane was still sobbing, and Joe nudged his -father. "Tell her 'bout the bear, pop."</p> - -<p>"Now here's somethin' that'll make you laugh," -said Lucas, kindly. "It's about a bad bear that -went an' got drunk. I was on a fishin' trip, an' I -had a jug o' black-strap with me. Know what that -is, leetle gal?"</p> - -<p>"No-o-o," gasped 'Tilda Jane, who, rather -ashamed of her emotion, was trying to sober herself.</p> - -<p>"Wal—it's the State o' Maine name for rum an' -molasses mixed, an' you take it with you in case you -git sick. There was some other men with me, an'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> -they'd gone off in a boat on the lake. I had a gun, -but 'pon my word I didn't think o' usin' it, 'count of -gratitude to that b'ar for givin' me such a treat—just -as good as a circus. Wal, I must tell how it -happened. I didn't feel well that day—had a kind -o' pain, an' I was lyin' on the bank in the sun, -foolin' an' wishin' I was all right. By an' by, -thinks I, I'll go to the camp an' hev a drink o' black-strap. -I was mos' thar, when I met a wicked thief -b'ar comin' out. Powers around, he was as tipsy as -a tinker. He'd bin at my black-strap, an' I wish you -could 'a' seen him. He didn't know where he was at, -or where he wanted to be at, an' he was jolly, an' -friendly, an' see-sawed roun' me, an' rolled an' swaggered -till I tho't I'd die laughin'. My pain went -like las' year's snow, an' I walked after that b'ar till -he was out o' sight. Just like a drunken man he -was, makin' for home, an' in the midst of all his -foolery havin' an idea of where he'd oughter go. -I'd 'a' given a good deal to see Mrs. B'ar's face when -he arrove. An' didn't those other fellers give it to -me for not shootin' him! I said I couldn't take a -mean advantage of his sitooation."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane's face was composed now, and -with a faint smile she reverted to the subject of -the deer. "Don't you feel bad when you're -killin' them, an' they looks at you with their big -eyes?"</p> - -<p>"Look here, leetle gal, don't you talk no more -'bout them, or you'll hev me as mush-hearted as you -be," said Lucas, getting up and going to the window. -"At present I ain't got no feelin' about deer excep' -that what's in the woods is ours. You jus' stand up -an' try your feet. It's goin' to snow, an' I'd like to -git you out o' here. Did you ever try to teeter -along on snow-shoes?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir," she said, getting up and walking across -the room.</p> - -<p>Lucas was anxiously surveying the sky. "'Pears -like it was goin' to snow any minute. The las' thaw -took the heft of it off the ground—you'd 'a' never -got in this fur if it hadn't—an' we're bound to hev -another big fall. It ain't fur to the road, an' I guess -you an' Zebedee better start. Lemme see you walk, -sissy."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane tottered back to her seat.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span></p> - -<p>"It's a smart trot home," observed Zebedee. -"D'ye think she could foot it?"</p> - -<p>"Pop, it's snowin' now," said Joe, who had taken -his father's place at the window.</p> - -<p>With almost incredible rapidity there had been -a change in the weather. A small and sullen cloud -had hidden the dreamy, thoughtful sun, and out of -the cloud came wheeling, choking gusts, bearing -bewildered snowflakes up and down, hither and -thither, before allowing them to alight turbulently -upon the quiet earth.</p> - -<p>"That's quick," muttered Lucas, philosophically. -"We'll hev to put off opinions till it's over," and he -again sat down by the fire. The wind tore around -the small cabin, furiously seeking an entrance, but -finding none. Outside at least he could have his -will, and his vengeance fell upon the sturdy young -firs and spruces, who at his fierce word of command -threw off their burdens of snow, and bent and swayed -before his wrath as wildly as the most graceful hardwood -saplings. The older trees bent more reluctantly. -They had seen many winters, many -storms, yet occasionally a groan burst from them as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> -the raging breath of the wind monster blew around -some decaying giant and hurled him to the ground.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane pictured the scene without, and cowered -closer to the fire. Gippie was on her lap, -Poacher beside her, and this man with his two boys, -who at present personified her best friends in the -world, were safe and warm in their shelter.</p> - -<p>Her dark face cleared, and in dreamy content she -listened to the string of hunting stories reeled off -by the two boys, who, without addressing her directly, -were evidently stimulated by the knowledge -that here was an interested, appreciative, and "brand -new" listener.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER XI.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">A SUDDEN RESOLUTION.</span></h2> - - -<p>The storm did not abate. All day long it raged -around the cabin, and the four prisoners talked, -ate, and drank without grumbling at their captivity. -When bedtime approached, Lucas addressed 'Tilda -Jane in an apologetic manner. "Ye see we ain't -used to havin' leetle gals, an' I'm afeard we can't -make you very comfy, as my ole woman says, but -we'll do the best we kin. This room's all we've got, -but I'm goin' to try to make it two. See here," -and rising, he went to one of the rough bunks built -against the wall opposite the fire; "I'm a-goin' to -drape ye off a place for yourself and dog," and, -hanging a blanket on a hook by the fireplace, he -called loudly for a nail to drive in the logs across -the corner.</p> - -<p>The two boys, who were playing cards at the -table, jumped up, and presently 'Tilda Jane had a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> -snug corner to herself. Lucas had dragged out one -of the fragrant fir beds from one of the bunks. The -rustling of the evergreen inside reminded her of her -narrow straw bed at the orphanage, and drawing -the blanket over her, she nestled down and patiently -waited for her friends to seek their equally fragrant -couches. She was very sleepy, but she must not -drop off until she had said her prayers. It never -occurred to her to repeat them to herself. She -must get up and say them aloud, and upon her -knees.</p> - -<p>After some time there was silence outside her -screen, except for the heavy breathing of the sleepers, -and the slow, deliberate crackling of the fire -over the fresh wood heaped upon it by Lucas.</p> - -<p>She crept quietly from her bed and knelt down. -"Dear Father in heaven, I thank thee for saving my -life. I might 'a' been dead at this minute if thou -hadst not sent that good dog to find me. Please -make me a better girl for being saved. I'll take -good care o' that old man if thou wilt let me find -him. Bless the red-haired man that owns this cabin. -I guess he is a good man, Lord, but if he kills deer,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> -wilt thou not lay on his heart a coal from thy altar? -If he was a deer, he would not like to be killed. -Bless him, dear Father in heaven, an' his two boys, -an' bless me an' Gippie an' Poacher an' keep us safe -for evermore,—an' bless the lady-boards, an' the -matron, an' all the little orphans, an' let them find -good homes an' get out o' the 'sylum,—Lord, I -will write them a letter as soon as I get settled, an' -confess what is wickedness, an' what ain't. I don't -want to be a bad little girl. I want to live straight, -an' go to heaven when I die, but I'm sorry I had -to begin in a 'sylum. It ain't a place for children -what likes animiles. For Jesus' sake, Amen."</p> - -<p>With a relieved sigh, 'Tilda Jane crept back to -bed and went to sleep, quite unaware that her petition -had awakened Lucas, who slept as lightly as -a cat. She had waked him, and now he could not -go to sleep. For a long time he lay motionless in -his bunk, then softly getting up, he seated himself -on one of the boxes before the fire, and let his head -sink on his hands.</p> - -<p>Years ago he had had a deeply religious mother. -One who would rise at dead of night and pray<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> -earnestly for her children. 'Tilda Jane's childish -prayer had brought back this mother from her grave. -What a good woman she had been! The dying -wind, sobbing and sighing without, called to mind -the camp-meetings that he used to attend when he -was a boy. Churches were few and far between, -and it was the event of the year for the scattered -religious people to gather together under the pines -for out-of-door services. He could hear the women -singing now,—the weird sound of their voices -floated down the chimney. Surely he was among -them again,—that good, religious crowd.</p> - -<p>He shook himself, muttered an impatient exclamation, -and went back to bed. No, they were mostly -dead, his mother was in heaven, and he was a hard, -impenitent man. But his children—something -ought to be done about them. This little girl had -stirred these old memories—Zebedee and Joe must -quit this life, and, with a snarl of determination on -his brow, he turned over and fell into a profound -and resolved slumber.</p> - -<p>Early the next morning 'Tilda Jane heard some -one stirring quietly about the cabin. She peeped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> -from behind the screen, and found that it was the -father of the boys. He was making coffee, and -taking dishes from a shelf to set them on the small -table. He was also frying meat.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane did not like to venture out until the -boys had made their toilet, which they presently did -by springing from their beds, drawing on their boots, -and smoothing their thick locks with a piece of comb -that reposed on a small shelf near a broken looking-glass.</p> - -<p>When they had finished, she piped through the -screen, "Will you please gimme a lend o' the comb?"</p> - -<p>It was politely handed to her, and in a short time -she made her appearance.</p> - -<p>"Ho—deer's meat!" said Joe, sniffing joyfully. -"Where'd you get it, pop?"</p> - -<p>"Found half a carcass leanin' agin the door this -mornin'," he said, briefly.</p> - -<p>"Some o' the boys must 'a' left it on their way -out," remarked Zebedee. "Hard blow to travel in. -Gimme some, pop."</p> - -<p>Lucas had settled himself at the table, and was -eating with every appearance of enjoyment.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Nop," he said, pausing, and speaking with his -mouth full. "That thar is for you an' the leetle -gal."</p> - -<p>The boys stared at him in undisguised astonishment.</p> - -<p>"Fall to," he said, inexorably, "eat your bacon -and beans, an' be thankful you've got 'em. There's -many an empty stummick in the woods this mornin'."</p> - -<p>Joe, who was readier of speech than his brother, -found his tongue first. "Ain't you goin' to give us -any fresh meat, pop?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir-r-r."</p> - -<p>"You ain't got loony in the night, pop?"</p> - -<p>"Y' don't calklate to eat half a carcass y'rself, -do ye?" said Zebedee, with a feeble attempt at a -joke.</p> - -<p>"Nop—what I don't eat, I'll lug off in the -woods."</p> - -<p>"He's loony," said Joe, with resignation, and serving -himself with bacon.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane was silently eating bread and beans, -and to her Lucas addressed himself. "Leetle gal, -the storm's a-goin' to conclude accordin' to my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> -reckonin'. Kin you foot it out on snow-shoes this -mornin' to the nearest house, do you s'pose?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir," she said, quietly.</p> - -<p>"An' you two boys will keep her comp'ny," said -Lucas, turning to his sons. "I'm a-goin' to march -on to Morse's camp."</p> - -<p>There was a howl of dismay from Joe. "You -give me your word Zebedee was to go."</p> - -<p>"An' I give you my word now that you're to go," -said his father, sternly. "In an hour I'll make -tracks. You two wait till the last flake's settled, -then take the leetle gal an' git her out safe an' sound -to William Mercer's. Ask him to hitch up an' take -her over to Nicatoos station, an' I'll settle with him. -Then you skedaddle for home, git out your books, -an' to-morrer go to school."</p> - -<p>This time there was a simultaneous howl from the -boys, and in the midst of their distress could be -heard faintly articulated the words, "Pop—books—school!"</p> - -<p>Lucas turned to 'Tilda Jane. "Yes, we're poachers, -leetle gal, an' when I ask ye to say nothin' -about what ye've seen an' heard here, I know ye'll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> -keep as mum as we do. I'm a poacher, an' I'm -goin' to hev a hard time to give it up. They used -to call me king o' the poachers, till another feller -come along smarter nor I was. Anyway, I can't -give it up yet. It's in my blood now, an' men as ole -as I be don't repent easy. It's when ye're young -an' squshy that you repents. But these two cubs o' -mine," and he eyed his boys with determination, "has -got to give up evil ways right off. Ye've got to go -to school, sons, an' learn somethin', an' quit poachin', -an' hevin' the law hangin' over ye all the time."</p> - -<p>The boys looked ugly and rebellious, and, perceiving -it, he went on. "Come now, none o' that; -when ye're respectable, hard-workin' men ye'll be -ashamed o' your father, an' that'll be my punishment -if I don't get out o' this. An' you needn't -kick, 'cause I'll lick ye all to splinters if I ketches -one o' you in the woods this spring. Ye've got to -turn right round."</p> - -<p>"I'll turn right round an' come back," said -Zebedee, bitterly and furiously.</p> - -<p>Lucas got up, took him by the coat collar, and, -without a word, led him outside the cabin.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> - -<p>A few minutes later they returned—both flushed—Lucas -grim and determined, and Zebedee sulky -and conquered.</p> - -<p>"Air you also cravin' for an argyment?" asked -Lucas, ironically, of Joe.</p> - -<p>"I'm cravin' to lick you," said the boy, bursting -out into a wild raving and swearing at him.</p> - -<p>"Swearin' when there is ladies present," said his -father, seizing him by the shoulder, and dragging -him the way his brother had gone.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane stopped eating, and sat miserably with -downcast eyes. She felt dimly that she had made -trouble in this family, and brought additional misfortune -upon herself, for what kind of escorts would -these whipped boys be?</p> - -<p>Lucas's tussle with Joe was a longer one than the -former with Zebedee had been, and not until after -some time did he return. Joe hung about outside -for an hour, then he came in, shaking and stamping -the snow from him, and, as if nothing had happened, -sat down and finished his breakfast.</p> - -<p>Lucas, meanwhile, had been making preparations -for his long tramp. 'Tilda Jane watched him with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> -interest as he took a sack, tied a potato in each -corner, and proceeded to fill it with parcels of provisions.</p> - -<p>When at last he sat down, took off his cow-hide -moccasins, and began to tie on soft moose moccasins, -fit for snow-shoeing, he addressed his two -boys.</p> - -<p>"When parients tell their children things air to -be did, they ought to be did. When the children -raves an' tears, they ought to be licked, an' when -the lickin's over, the reasons come. Air you -sighin' either o' ye to see the inside o' State's -prison? Air you, Zebedee?"</p> - -<p>"No, sir," said the boy, shortly.</p> - -<p>"Air you, Joe?"</p> - -<p>Joe, with his mouth full of beans, replied that -he was not.</p> - -<p>"Wal, that's where you'll land if ye don't quit -breakin' State's law. Ye ain't either o' ye as clever -as I be, but I've got to try to give it up, too. I've -bin feelin' that ye'd git caught some day, and I've -made up my mind, an' I'll hold it to my dyin' day. -I'm goin' to crowd ye out o' this risky game. If I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -ketch one o' you after deer agin, I'll give ye up to -the warden myself. I swan I will," and he brought -his hand down energetically on the table. "Now -you go home an' go to school with smart boys an' -gals till summer vacation, then ye can tell me -what ye think of it. I'll not pretend I'll let ye out -of it if ye don't like it, but I guess ye will. Ye've -bin to school before an' made good progress, an' I -asks yer pardon for takin' ye out."</p> - -<p>Zebedee listened in quiet resentfulness, but Joe, -who possessed a more volatile disposition, and who -having satisfied his hunger was comparatively good-natured, -remarked, "What'll ye do about Poacher, -pop?"</p> - -<p>Lucas's face darkened suddenly, and unhappily.</p> - -<p>"Come here, ole boy," he said, and when the dog -went to him, he bowed his head for a minute over -him. "We've bin good friends—me an' you. -Many's the trap I've led ye in, an' many a time -my heart would 'a' bin sore if ye'd a bin caught. -An' now, 'count o' my transgression, ye're a wanderin' -sheep. Ye'll never git back in the fold agin -unless some good sheep leads ye."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p> - -<p>"There's somethin' you can't make over," said -Zebedee, briefly. "He'll chase deer as long as he -kin wag a leg."</p> - -<p>"Leetle gal," said Lucas, suddenly, "would ye -like to hev this dog?"</p> - -<p>"To have him—that beauty dog!" 'Tilda Jane -gasped, confusedly. "Oh, sir, you'd never give him -away."</p> - -<p>"I'd most as soon give a child away," said Lucas, -"an' I'd never do it, if it warn't for his habits. -Ye're a-goin' to Ciscasset, which is somethin' of a -place, an' a ways from the woods. An' ye'll pet him -an' kinder cherish him, an' keep him from frettin' an' -bein' lonely. My ole woman don't set much store -by dogs, an' when I'm workin' in the tannery he's -off doggin' deer by himself. He's nearly got shot -dead. See those ripples in his back? That's -where he's bin grazed. Poacher, ole boy, you've -got to go with this leetle gal, if she'll hev you."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane hesitated, stammered, looked into the -dog's anxious face, and the boys' protesting ones, -and said at last, "But the ole man where I'm goin', -mebbe he'll breach at my havin' two dogs."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Prob'bly he will," said Lucas, "but you crowd -right up to him. Folks is queer 'bout dogs. Them -as don't like 'em don't want to give 'em standin' -room on this airth, but you walk right up to 'em an' -say, 'This dog has as good a right to a place on -God's footstool as you hev, an' I'm goin' to see he -gits it. If you was more like a dog yerself, ye'd be -more thought of, ye cross-grained, cranky ole skillingsby'—come -you, sons, quit that scowlin'. Do -ye know why I'm givin' that dog to the little gal -stid o' you?"</p> - -<p>They uttered a brief negative.</p> - -<p>"'Cause she knows dog language," said Lucas, -dropping his voice to a whisper, and looking mysteriously -over his shoulder, "an' if there was a deer -here, you'd find she knowed deer talk. You, sons, -is fond o' dogs, but not in the style the leetle gal is, -or I be. It's a kind o' smartness at gettin' inside -the animal's skin. He don't verily talk. Ye jist -understan' him without talk—leetle gal, what's -Poacher sayin' now?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, he don't want to go with me," burst out -'Tilda Jane, with energy. "He's a sick dog. Look<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> -at his eyes an' his droopin' ears. He don't want you -to give him away. He don't want me to take him. -Oh, I can't!" and she buried her face in her hands -as if to hide temptation from her.</p> - -<p>"He's got to go," said Lucas, stroking Poacher's -head, "an' mind me, dog," and he put his hand -under the dog's jaws and lifted them so that he could -look in his eyes, "no runnin' away from Ciscasset. -Ye stay with that leetle gal. Don't ye come chasin' -round here, 'cause if ye do, I'll turn my back on ye -for a runaway, an' ye'll feel worse'n ye do now when -we part on speakin' terms. Say, is it a bargain, ole -feller? Call him, leetle gal."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane was overawed by Lucas's determined -manner, and dropping her hands she ejaculated -feebly, "Here, Poacher, Poacher!"</p> - -<p>The dog looked at her, then pressed closer to -his master, whereupon Lucas seized a stick by the -fireplace, and struck him sharply.</p> - -<p>Poacher turned his large brown eyes on him in -one despairing, reproachful glance, then with -drooping head sauntered across the room to the -boys.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Call him," said Lucas to 'Tilda Jane. "Speak -up as if ye knew he was your dog."</p> - -<p>"Poacher," she said, in a firm voice, "come here. -You're mos' as unhappy as I be—we'll be unhappy -together."</p> - -<p>The suffering animal moved slowly toward her, -and laid his head on her lap.</p> - -<p>There were tears in his eyes, and the little girl -groaned as she wiped them away.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER XII.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">FAREWELL TO THE POACHERS.</span></h2> - - -<p>Lucas was ready to start, and 'Tilda Jane and the -boys stood in the doorway watching him tie on his -snow-shoes.</p> - -<p>"Now, sons," he said, straightening himself up and -drawing on his woollen mittens, "I'm goin' one way -an' you another, but if ye act contrairy an' pouty to -that leetle gal, I'll know it, for she's goin' to write -me, an' if there's any complaint, there'll be such -a wallopin' as these ones this mornin' would be a -shadder an' a dream to."</p> - -<p>His lecture over, he looked over his shoulder and -narrowly inspected the faces of his two boys. They -were reserved, almost expressionless. It might be a -month before he saw them again. He forgot 'Tilda -Jane for an instant, "Sons—ye know yer pop loves -ye, don't ye?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p> - -<p>His tone had suddenly changed, and the two big -boys ran to him as if they still were children. "Pop, -can't we come back after we take her out?" they -exclaimed, with backward jerks of their heads toward -'Tilda Jane. Their hands were on his arms, and -they were roughly fondling his shoulders—these -two unmannerly cubs of his.</p> - -<p>"Sons," he said, in a broken voice, "I ain't been -a good father to ye. I've got to spend the last o' -my life in rootin' up the weeds I sowed the fust -part. I don't want you to have such a crop. Now -you go 'long out an' be good sons. Your mother'll -be sot up, an' you mind what she says, an' I'll soon -come home. Take good care o' the leetle gal," and -passing his hand, first over one brown head, then -over the other, he tramped away out of view among -the snowy spruces.</p> - -<p>The boys and 'Tilda Jane went back into the -cabin. The two former sat together by the fire and -talked, taking little notice of her. All their friendliness -of the evening before was gone, yet they were -not openly unkind, but simply neglectful. Toward -noon the snow ceased falling, as Lucas had pre<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>dicted, -the sun came out brilliantly, and they began -making preparations for departure.</p> - -<p>Zebedee was to wear an old pair of snow-shoes -that had been left in the cabin, and 'Tilda Jane was -to put on his new ones. Her humility and unselfishness -slightly thawed the boys' reserve, and when -they at last started, her ridiculous attempts at snow-shoeing -threw them into fits of laughter.</p> - -<p>Zebedee carried the infirm Gippie, who otherwise -would have sunk to his neck in the snow, Poacher -soberly plunged his way along, while Joe assisted -'Tilda Jane in keeping her equilibrium. After an -hour's travel, she had become quite expert in the -art of taking wide steps, and no longer needed his -helping hand.</p> - -<p>"Air we mos' there?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"In the span of another hour and a half," said -Joe.</p> - -<p>The hour and a half went by. They tramped on -under the serene blue of the sky, and in such a -solemn stillness that it seemed as if never a bird nor -beast could have inhabited this white wilderness. -Only the voiceless, silent trees were there, clad all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> -in white like ghosts of departed living things. But -at last their winding way through the wood came -to an end, and they stepped out on the old road. -Here were evidences of travel. A few teams had -passed by, and there were snow-shoe tracks alongside -those of the sleigh runners.</p> - -<p>The trees also grew more sparsely, and soon gave -place to clearings, then the distant roof of a barn -appeared, and finally a long, thin string of small -farmhouses winding down a bleak road before them.</p> - -<p>"Is this your home?" asked 'Tilda Jane, of the -boys.</p> - -<p>"Nop," answered Joe, "we live off'n that way," -and he pointed down a road to the left. "But we've -got to take you here to the Mercers', pop said."</p> - -<p>He drew up before the first in the string of -houses,—a poor enough place, and unspeakably -chilling in its deathly whiteness. A tiny white -house, a white barn, a white fence, a white cow in -the yard,—white snow over everything.</p> - -<p>"Looks as if they'd all died an' gone to heaven," -thought 'Tilda Jane, with a shiver.</p> - -<p>"Hole on," said Joe. "I'll run ahead an' see if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> -the folks is home. Ain't no smoke cornin' out o' -the chimney."</p> - -<p>He swung open the gate, hurried in, pounded at -the front door, pounded at the back door, and -finally returned. "Guess there mus' be a funeral -or somethin'—all off, anyway. What'll we do, -Zeb?"</p> - -<p>Zebedee shrugged his shoulders. "S'pose we go -nex' door?"</p> - -<p>"But them's the Folcutts," objected Joe.</p> - -<p>"S'pose they be."</p> - -<p>"Well, you know—"</p> - -<p>"Guess they kin drive as well as Mercer's folks."</p> - -<p>"What would pop say?"</p> - -<p>"It's nearer than the nex' house."</p> - -<p>"I'm kind o' tired," said 'Tilda Jane, politely and -faintly. "Just drop me, an' you go back. I'll find -some one."</p> - -<p>"Nop," said Joe, firmly, "we promised pop."</p> - -<p>"Come on," said Zebedee, "let's try the Folcutts."</p> - -<p>They went slowly on to the next blot on the -landscape,—this one, a low-roofed, red house with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> -untidy windows, and a feeble, wavering line of smoke -rising from the kitchen chimney.</p> - -<p>They all went around to the back door, and, in -response to their knock a slatternly woman appeared.</p> - -<p>"What you want, boys?"</p> - -<p>"Pop says will you take this gal to Nicatoos -station?" asked Joe. "He'll square up with you -when he comes out."</p> - -<p>The woman looked 'Tilda Jane all over. "The -roads is main heavy."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane leaned up against the door-post, and -the woman relented. "I guess it won't kill our -hoss," she remarked. "Is it the seven o'clocker -you want?"</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane appealed to the boys.</p> - -<p>"Yes, m'am," responded Joe, promptly.</p> - -<p>"Needn't start for an hour yit. Come on in, -boys."</p> - -<p>"I guess we'll be goin' on home," said Zebedee.</p> - -<p>Joe, for some reason or other, seemed reluctant to -leave 'Tilda Jane. He carefully lifted Gippie to a -resting-place by the kitchen stove, untied 'Tilda -Jane's snow-shoes and strapped them on his back,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> -stroked Poacher repeatedly, and finally with a hearty -"So long, little gal, let's hear from you," he made -her an awkward bob of his head and ran after his -brother, who had reached the road.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane drew up to the stove, and, while she -sat drying her dress, looked about her. What a -dirty kitchen! The log cabin she had just left -was neatness itself compared with this place. Pots -and pans were heaped in a corner of the room, -the table was littered with soiled dishes, the -woman herself was unkempt, frowsy, and dispirited -in appearance.</p> - -<p>She was also cunning, for, while she seized a -broom and stirred about the accumulation of dust -on the floor, she inspected the little girl with curious, -furtive glances.</p> - -<p>"You bin stoppin' with the Lucases?" she asked, -at last.</p> - -<p>She had opened the door, and while she looked -one way she carelessly tried to sweep in another way -the pile of rubbish she had collected.</p> - -<p>"Yes, m'am," said 'Tilda Jane, wearily.</p> - -<p>"How's Mis' Lucas?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span></p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane paused to gaze out the open door. Why -did not the woman shut it? And why, when it was -so pure and clean without, did she not feel ashamed -to keep so dull and untidy a house? If it were summer-time, -and the ground were brown and green, this -dun-coloured room would not be so bad, but now—the -contrast made her sick.</p> - -<p>"How's Mis' Lucas?" repeated her hostess, in a -dull voice.</p> - -<p>"I don't know," replied 'Tilda Jane.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Folcutt poised herself on her broom and with -rustic deliberation weighed the statement just made. -Then she said, "She ain't gone away?"</p> - -<p>"I dunno," said 'Tilda Jane, "I never see her in -my life."</p> - -<p>Here was a puzzle, and Mrs. Folcutt pondered -over it in silence, until the draught of chilly air made -her remember to close the door.</p> - -<p>"Are we to start soon?" inquired 'Tilda Jane, -after a time.</p> - -<p>"I ain't a-goin' to take you," said her hostess, unamiably, -"it's Uzziah—Uzziah!" and she went to -an open stairway leading from the kitchen.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> - -<p>"What cher want?" came back, in an impatient -tone.</p> - -<p>"You're wanted. Passenger for the station."</p> - -<p>A boy speedily appeared. 'Tilda Jane was not -prepossessed in his favour as he came lumbering down -the staircase, and she was still less so when he stood -before her. He had his mother's sharp face, lean -head, and cunning eyes, and he was so alarmingly -dirty that she found herself wondering whether he -had ever touched water to his face and hands since -the winter began.</p> - -<p>"Go hitch up an' take this gal to the station," said -his mother, in feeble command.</p> - -<p>He stood scrutinising 'Tilda Jane. "Who fur?"</p> - -<p>"Bob Lucas."</p> - -<p>"How much'll he gimme?"</p> - -<p>"I dunno. He'll pay when he comes out."</p> - -<p>"S'pose the warden ketches him?"</p> - -<p>"He ain't bin ketched yit."</p> - -<p>"He's goin' to—so they say at the post-office."</p> - -<p>"I've got fifty cents," said 'Tilda Jane, with -dignity. "Here it is," and she laid it on the -table.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> - -<p>The youthful fox snatched at it, and grinned at -his mother as he pocketed it.</p> - -<p>"Say—that ain't fair," remarked 'Tilda Jane. -"You ain't kerried me yet."</p> - -<p>"She's right," said the more mature fox. "Give -it back, Uzzy."</p> - -<p>Uzziah unwillingly restored the coin to 'Tilda -Jane.</p> - -<p>"Now go hitch up," said his mother.</p> - -<p>He sidled out of the room and disappeared, and -Mrs. Folcutt's covetous eye wandered over 'Tilda -Jane's wearing apparel. "Say, sissy, that's a pooty -fair shawl you took off'n your dog. I always favour -stripes."</p> - -<p>"So do I," replied 'Tilda Jane, and, with a premonition -of what was coming, she turned her head -and gazed out the window.</p> - -<p>"I guess you might as well square up with us," -said the slatternly woman, seating herself near her -caller and speaking in' persuasive accents, "and then -you'll not hev to be beholden to Bob Lucas. It's -jus' as well for a nice little gal like you to hev no -dealin's with them Lucases."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> - -<p>"That shawl ain't mine," said 'Tilda Jane, -sharply.</p> - -<p>This statement did not seem worth challenging by -the woman, for she went on in the same wheedling -voice, "You'll not hev no call for it on the cars. I -kin lend you somethin' for the dog to ride down in. -It's too good for wrappin' him," and she gazed contemptuously -at Gippie.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane drew in her wandering gaze from the -window, and fixed it desperately on Poacher, who was -lying under the stove winking sadly but amiably at -her. Was no one perfect? Lucas hunted deer, this -good dog helped him, his boys were naughty, this -woman was a sloven and a kind of thief, her boy was -a rogue, and she herself—'Tilda Jane was a little -runaway girl. "You can have this tippet," she said, -sternly. "That shawl's got to be sent back to where -it comes from."</p> - -<p>"Oh, you stole it, did ye?" said the woman, with -a sneer. "Well, I guess we kin hitch up for no -thieves," and she got up and moved deliberately -toward the door as if she would recall her son.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane's nimble fancy ran over possibilities.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> -She had fallen among sharpers, she must be as sharp -as they. Her offensive manner fell from her. "Look -here," she said, bluntly, "I ain't got one mite o' -money but that fifty-cent piece. If your boy'll drive -me to Nicatoos right off, I'll give him that as I said, -an' I'll send back the shawl by him. But if you don't -want to do it, speak right up, an' I'll move on to the -next house, and," she continued boldly as she saw -consent on the cunning face, "you've got to give me -somethin' to eat an' drink with it, 'cause I've got two -dogs to take care of, an' I don't want to get to Ciscasset -and tumble over from bein' fainty."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Folcutt's gray face became illumined by a -silly smile. There was not a shawl like that in the -settlement, and bustling to her feet, she stroked it -and felt it with admiring fingers, until admonished -by 'Tilda Jane that time was passing, and if she -was going to get her anything to eat she had better -be quick about it.</p> - -<p>The little girl almost choked over the sloppy tea -from the venerable teapot, the shady bread and -butter, and the composite dish of preserves set -before her, yet resolutely shutting her eyes she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> -ate and drank, and forced Gippie to do the same. -Poacher would touch nothing. "Don't ye know -them huntin' dogs eats <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'only onct a day'">only once a day</ins>?" said Mrs. -Folcutt, contemptuously.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER XIII.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">AN ATTEMPTED TRICK.</span></h2> - - -<p>"How fur are we from Nicatoos?" inquired -'Tilda Jane of her charioteer one hour later.</p> - -<p>"A matter of a mile," he replied, beating his -disengaged hand upon his knees. He was sulky -and cold, and 'Tilda Jane averted her glance from -him to his small brown nag, who was trotting along -as cheerfully as if there were a reward at the end -of the drive for him.</p> - -<p>He was a curious little horse. Surely there -never before was one with such a heavy coat of hair. -He looked like a wild animal, and with gladness -of heart she noted his fat sides. The Folcutts -might be mean and untidy, but they certainly were -good to this faithful friend, and her mind went off -in puzzled reflection.</p> - -<p>She was pursuing the same line of thought of -an hour before. No one was perfect, yet no one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> -was wholly bad. There was good in everybody and -everything. Poacher was a bad dog in some respects, -and she cast a glance at him as he came -trotting sleek and thoughtful behind the sleigh, but -what a noble character he was in other respects! -Gippie was a crank, and she pressed closer the -small animal beside her, but he had his good points, -and he was certainly a great comfort to her.</p> - -<p>Her heart was much lighter now that she was -drawing nearer to the train that was to take her to -Ciscasset, and in raising her little, weary head gratefully -to the sky, she noted in quick and acute -appreciation an unusually beautiful sunset. The -colours were subdued—the sky was as hard and -as cold as steel, but how clear, how brilliantly clear -and calm! She would have fine weather for her -arrival in her new home.</p> - -<p>She was glad that she was not to stay here. She -felt herself quite a travelled orphan now, and somewhat -disdainfully classed this rough settlement as -"back-woodsy." The houses were uninviting and -far apart, the roads and yards were desolate. The -men were in the woods, the women and children<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> -were inside huddling around the fires. Middle Marsden -was a quiet place, but it had not seemed as -much out of the world as this. She hoped Ciscasset -would be cheerful. Her travels had given her a -liking for meeting new faces, and for enjoying some -slight excitement. Not as much as she had had -during the last few days—no, not as much as that. -It was too trying for her, and she smiled faintly as -she called up her last vision of her little careworn -face in the cracked looking-glass in the log cabin.</p> - -<p>"What's the matter?" she asked, abruptly.</p> - -<p>The sleigh had come to a sudden standstill, and -the boy was holding the lines in dogged silence.</p> - -<p>"Why don't you drive on?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"Now you jus' looky here," he replied, in a rough -and bullying tone. "I ain't a-goin' one step furder. -I'm mos' froze, an' the station's right ahead. You -foller yer nose a spell, an' you'll git thar. Gimme -the shawl an' the fifty cents, an' git out."</p> - -<p>For one moment 'Tilda Jane sat in blank amazement. -Then she looked from his dirty, obstinate -face to the plump pony. The latter showed no -signs of fatigue. He could go for miles yet. If he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> -had made a plea for the harness, she would not have -so much wondered, for it was patched and mended -with rope in a dozen places.</p> - -<p>Then her blood slowly reached boiling-point. -She had stood a good deal from these Folcutts. -The shawl was worth five dollars. That she knew, -for she remembered hearing the matron tell how -much it had cost her. She had overpaid them for -this drive, and she was not prepared to flounder -on through the snow and perhaps miss her train.</p> - -<p>Her mind, fertile in resources, speedily hit upon -something. She must get this bully out of the -sleigh, and she fixed him with a glance more determined -than his own. He had on a rough homespun -suit of clothes, and a home-made cap to match it. -This cap was pulled tightly over his ears, but it was -not on tight enough to resist 'Tilda Jane's quick -and angry fingers.</p> - -<p>Plucking it off, she threw it over a snake fence -into a snow-bank, saying at the same time, "If -you're goin' to turn me out, I'll turn you out first."</p> - -<p>The boy was furious, but the cold wind smote -his head, and, postponing retaliation, he sprang first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> -for his cap, shouting warningly, however, as he -swung his leg over the fence, "I'll make you pay -up for this, you—"</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane neither heard nor cared for the offensive -epithet applied to her. With feet firmly braced, -both hands grasping the lines, Gippie beside her, and -Poacher racing behind, she was sweeping down the -road. She had never driven a horse before in her -life, but she adored new experiences, and she had -carefully watched every motion of the young lout -beside her.</p> - -<p>He could scarcely believe his eyes. He gaped -speechless for a few minutes, for the sound of the -sleigh-bells had made him turn sharply as he was -picking up his cap. Then he restored the covering -to his head, ran to the fence, and bawled, helplessly, -"Stop thar—stop! Stop!"</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane was skimming gaily around a turn in -the road toward the sunset. He thought he heard -a jeering laugh from her, but he was mistaken. -Having got what she wanted, she was going obliviously -on her way. The boy had been an obstacle, -and she had brushed him aside.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a name="p168" id="p168"></a> -<img src="images/p168.jpg" width="550" alt="" /> -<div class="caption">"'STOP THAR—STOP! STOP!'"</div> -<p class="rt"><a href="#LOI">[Back to LOI]</a></p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span></p> - -<p>With his slower brain he was forced to pause and -deliberate. Had she stolen their rig? Stupid as he -was, the conviction forced itself upon him that she -had not. She could not take the rig on the train, -anyway, and plucking up courage, and shivering in -the cold that had seized upon him during his deliberations, -he meditatively and angrily began to plod -over the route that he had recommended to her.</p> - -<p>Three-quarters of an hour later, he drew into the -station yard. The train had come and gone, and his -eager eyes went to the pony tied safe and sound -under the shed, with not only the lap-robe over his -back, but also the striped shawl—the first and last -time that he would have the pleasure of wearing it.</p> - -<p>At the sound of the bells when he turned the -sleigh, the telegraph operator came to the station -door. "Here's fifty cents for you, left by a black-eyed -girl."</p> - -<p>Without a "thank you," the boy held out his hand.</p> - -<p>"I guess you don't like that black-eyed girl much," -said the young man, teasingly.</p> - -<p>"She's a—" and the boy broke into an oath.</p> - -<p>"Shut up!" said the young man, with a darkening<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> -face. Then with some curiosity he went on, "What -did she do to make you talk like that?"</p> - -<p>"Spilt me out," replied the boy, with another -volley of bad language.</p> - -<p>"You young hound," said the man, witheringly, -"if she spilt you out, I'll bet you deserved it. I'll -not touch your dirty hand. If you want your money, -go find it," and throwing the fifty cents in a snow-drift, -he went back into the warm station and slammed -the door behind him.</p> - -<p>Uzziah's troubles were not over, and he had still -to learn that the way of the transgressor is a tiresome -one. He fumbled desperately in the snow, for -he wanted fifty cents above all things in the world -just then, but he was destined not to find it; and at -last, cold, weary, and yet with all his faults not -inclined to wreak his wrath on the pony who stood -patiently watching him, he threw himself into the -sleigh and sped gloomily homeward. His mother -had the shawl, but he had nothing for his trouble, -for he counted as nothing and worse than nothing -his experience of the maxim that one sly trick -inspires another.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER XIV.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">HOME, SWEET HOME.</span></h2> - - -<p>'Tilda Jane was in a quandary. She had boarded -the train for Ciscasset, she sat up very straight and -apparently very composed—her outward demeanour -gave not a hint of the turmoil within. In reality -she was full of trouble. She had not a cent of -money in her pocket, and her new familiarity with -the workings of the Maine Central Railway assured -her that it did not carry passengers for nothing.</p> - -<p>What was she to do? She pulled the little tippet -more closely around Gippie's shoulders. She had -taken it from her own, for it was absolutely necessary -for him to have another covering now that the -shawl was gone. Perhaps he would be taken away -from her. She had noticed that it was not a customary -thing for people to travel with dogs. His -head and tail were plainly visible—this tippet was -not like the voluminous shawl.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> - -<p>Lucas had not offered her money, and she had not -liked to ask him for it. Perhaps he had not thought -about it. Perhaps if he did think of it, he supposed -that he was doing enough to get her to Nicatoos—and -there was the conductor entering the other end -of the car. She must do something, and deliberately -rising from her seat, she slipped Gippie under -her arm, and made her way out to the platform of -the fast moving train.</p> - -<p>It was quite dark now. She gave one side glance -at the white, silent country they were passing -through, then stepped into the lighted car ahead.</p> - -<p>"This is a smoking-car, young girl," observed -some one, haughtily.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane had dropped into the first seat she -came to, which happened to be beside a very stout -and very dignified gentleman who had a cigar in his -mouth, and who was reading a newspaper.</p> - -<p>She looked round, saw that there were a number -of men in the car—no women, no children, and that -the atmosphere was a hazy blue.</p> - -<p>"Smoke don't bother me," she said, almost scornfully. -What was a breath of smoke compared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> -with her inward discomposure over her pecuniary -difficulties?</p> - -<p>"I'm in a little trouble," she said, brusquely, "I -ain't got money to buy a ticket."</p> - -<p>The gentleman gazed at her suspiciously. "I -have no money for beggars," he said, and he turned -his broad back squarely on her.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane, for one so obstinate, was strangely -sensitive. With her face in a flame of colour, she -rose. Had any one else heard the insult? No, not -a man in the car was looking her way.</p> - -<p>"I'm a poor little girl," she breathed over the -gentleman's substantial shoulder, "but I'm no beggar. -I guess I work as hard as you do. I wanted -you to lend me a dollar or so to be sent back in a -letter, but I wouldn't take it now—no, not if you -crawled after me on your hands an' knees like a dog -holdin' it in your mouth," and precipitately leaving -him, she sauntered down the aisle.</p> - -<p>The gentleman turned around, and with an amazed -face gazed after her. Stay—there she was pausing -by the seat in which was his son. Should he warn -him against the youthful adventuress? No, he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> -old enough to take care of himself, and he settled -back in his corner and devoted himself to his -paper.</p> - -<p>The only person in the last seat in the car was a -lad of seventeen or eighteen who was neither reading -nor smoking, but lounging across it, while he -suppressed innumerable yawns. He was very handsome, -and he looked lazy and good-natured, and to -him 'Tilda Jane accordingly addressed herself. She -had hesitated, after the rebuff she had received, to -apply to any of those other men with their resolved, -middle-aged or elderly faces. This lad she was not -at all afraid of, and resting Gippie on the arm of his -seat, she stared admiringly at him.</p> - -<p>He straightened himself. Here was something -interesting, and his yawns ceased.</p> - -<p>"Well, miss, what can I do for you?" he inquired, -mischievously, as she continued to stare at him without -speaking.</p> - -<p>He would lend her the money, she knew it before -she asked him. There was something else in her -mind now, and her little sharp eyes were full of -tears.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Is anything the matter with you?" he asked, -politely.</p> - -<p>She could not answer him for a few seconds, -but then she swallowed the lump in her throat -and ejaculated, "No, sir, only you are so pretty."</p> - -<p>"Pretty!" he repeated, in bewilderment.</p> - -<p>"Yes," she said in low, passionate, almost resentful -tones, "you ain't got no 'casion for those blue -eyes an' that yeller hair. I wish I could take 'em -away from you. I'd 'a' been 'dopted if I had 'em. -I wouldn't be standin' here."</p> - -<p>"Won't you sit down?" he asked, courteously, -and with a flattered air. He was very -young, and to have a strange child melt into -tears at the sight of his handsome face was a compliment -calculated to touch even an older heart -than his.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane, with a heavy sigh, seated herself -beside him. "I'm kind o' put out," she said, -languidly, "you must s'cuse me."</p> - -<p>After her interest in him, he could do nothing -less than murmur a civil inquiry as to the cause of -her concern.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I've been tryin' to borrer money," she replied, -"an' I was 'sulted."</p> - -<p>"To borrow money—then you are short of -funds?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir," she said, calmly, "I'm a-travellin', but -I ain't got no money to pay for me nor for this dog, -an' his head an' tail shows this time, an' he'll be -nabbed."</p> - -<p>"Where are you going?" asked the lad.</p> - -<p>"To Ciscasset, sir, if I ever get there. I'm -beginnin' to think there ain't no such place."</p> - -<p>"I assure you there is, for I live in it myself."</p> - -<p>"Do you?" she ejaculated, with a flash of interest. -"Do you know a man by the name of Hobart -Dillson?"</p> - -<p>"Rather—he was my father's bookkeeper for -years. We pension him now," he added, grandly, -and with a wish to impress.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane was not impressed, for she did not -know what a pension was.</p> - -<p>"What kind of a feller is he?" she asked, eagerly.</p> - -<p>"Oh, a sort of tiger—might be in a cage, you -know, but we haven't got one big enough."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You mean he gets mad easy?"</p> - -<p>"Never gets un-mad. Always stays so. Is a -regular joke, you know. Going to visit him?"</p> - -<p>"I'm goin' to be his housekeeper," said 'Tilda -Jane, with dignity.</p> - -<p>The lad cast a rapid and amused glance over her -small resolved figure, then taking his handkerchief -from his pocket, turned his face to the window, and -coughed vigorously.</p> - -<p>"I can fight, too," she added, after a pause, "but—" -slowly, "I sha'n't fight him."</p> - -<p>The lad did not turn around except to throw her -one gleam from the corner of a laughing eye, until -she ejaculated uneasily, "There comes the conductor—are -you a-goin' to lend me some money?"</p> - -<p>His face reappeared—quite sober now. "Well, -young lady, I am not a capitalist, but I think I can -raise you a loan. How much do you want—that -is, where did you come on?"</p> - -<p>"I come on at Nicatoos, an' I've another dog in -the baggage-car."</p> - -<p>"Travelling with two dogs," he murmured, "and -short of funds. You have courage!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I like some animiles better'n some people," -observed 'Tilda Jane, sententiously.</p> - -<p>"Your sentiment does you credit," he replied, -gravely, and as the conductor approached, he held -out his hand. "I pay for this little girl and her -dog in the baggage-car."</p> - -<p>"That's a fine hound you've got," the conductor -observed, civilly, to 'Tilda Jane.</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir," she replied, meekly. "I hope he -ain't scared o' the train."</p> - -<p>"He don't like it much, but some of the boys -have been playing with him. Why—" and he -drew back in surprise, "you're the obstinate young -one I pointed out to the inspector the other day. -Here—you needn't pay," and he put in her hand -the money her new friend had just given him. -"There was a great racket about you. You needn't -have run away from Vanceboro—if you'd spoken -the truth, you'd saved yourself and us a lot of -trouble. However, I guess they'll be glad to hear -you're all right."</p> - -<p>"I'll be 'bliged if you'll give my respecks to -Mr. Jack," she said, steadily.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I'll do it," said the conductor, "and tell him -you've picked up another dog," and with a wink at -her companion, he passed on.</p> - -<p>"Accep' my thanks," she said, after a time, handing -the loose change in her lap to the lad.</p> - -<p>"Keep it," he replied, generously. "I don't want -it."</p> - -<p>A grim flash like a streak of lightning passed over -her dark face, and he added, hastily, "As a loan, of -course. You may need money for your dogs. Old -Hobart will begrudge them a bone, I assure you."</p> - -<p>She thanked him, and thoughtfully tied the money -in a corner of her handkerchief.</p> - -<p>"Now if his son were home, he would be different. -Hank is a rattling, good-natured sort of a fellow. -No principle, you know, but not a tiger by any -means."</p> - -<p>"I'll thank you, sir, to keep a stiff tongue when -you're talkin' of Hank Dillson," observed 'Tilda -Jane, severely. "He's done me favours, an' you'd -better keep your tongue off his father, too. If you're -dyin' to pitch into some one, pitch into that selfish -ole tub a-readin' that big paper up there. He turned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> -his back on me when I hinted round him for the -loan of a dollar or so."</p> - -<p>"And I'll thank you to keep a stiff tongue when -you speak of that gentleman," said the lad, smartly, -"for he's my father."</p> - -<p>"Your father!" echoed 'Tilda Jane, in astonishment.</p> - -<p>"Yes, ma'am."</p> - -<p>"Did he <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'onct have blue eyes'">once have blue eyes</ins> an' curly hair?"</p> - -<p>"I believe so. He's a good-looking man yet."</p> - -<p>"He's a—" began 'Tilda Jane, hurriedly, then -she stopped short. "Law me—I'll never learn to -forgive folks before the sun goes down; I'm gettin' -wickeder an' wickeder. What's your name, sir? -I'll want to send you this money soon's I earn -some."</p> - -<p>"My name is Datus Waysmith, and my father is -the biggest lumber merchant on the Ciscasset -River."</p> - -<p>"Is he?" she said, wistfully, "an' have you got -more family?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, I have a mother as pretty as a picture, and -three sisters."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> - -<p>"An' you have a nice room with a fire that ain't -boxed up, an' you sit round, an' no other folks come -in, an' no bells ring for you to get up and do somethin'?"</p> - -<p>"We have loads of rooms in our house," said the -lad, boastfully. "It's the biggest one in Ciscasset. -You'll soon find out where we live. Here we are -most in—Iceboro next, then home," and he flattened -his face against the glass.</p> - -<p>Outside in the dark night, bright lights appeared, -danced over the snowy country, then disappeared. -The train was running through the outskirts of a -prosperous town.</p> - -<p>"Is Ciscasset a nice place?" asked 'Tilda Jane, -wistfully.</p> - -<p>"Slowest old place that ever was. I'd like to live -in Bangor or Portland. There's something going on -there. We've nothing but a river, and mills, and -trees, and hills—not a decent theatre in the place."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane did not know what a theatre was, and -discreetly held her peace.</p> - -<p>"I say—here we are!" exclaimed the boy. "I -hope mamma will have a good supper."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p> - -<p>A shadow overspread 'Tilda Jane's face, and seeing -it, the boy said, impulsively, "Stop here a minute—I -want to speak to papa," and he rushed away.</p> - -<p>The little girl sat still. They were going more -slowly now, and all the men in the car were standing -up, putting on coats and warm caps. She had no -wrap, but her dress was thick, and hugging Gippie -closer, she felt that she should not suffer from the -cold.</p> - -<p>The boy was making an animated appeal to his -father, who was asking him short, quick questions. -At last he gave him a brief, "Very well!" and the -boy ran back to 'Tilda Jane.</p> - -<p>"Papa says you can ride with us. I told him you -had no one to meet you, and it would be cold comfort -wandering about alone to find your way. He -used to think a lot of Dillson, but you'd better not -talk to him."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane trailed slowly after her guide through -the crowd of people leaving the train, and passing -through the lighted stone station to the yard outside. -Here were drawn up a number of sleighs. -The boy led her to the handsomest one.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Jump up on the box with Jenks," he said in a -whisper. "Curl down under the rug, and I'll bring -dog number two. He'll run behind, won't he?"</p> - -<p>"I guess so," replied 'Tilda Jane, with an equally -mysterious whisper, and she slipped down under the -soft bearskin robe.</p> - -<p>In two minutes the boy came back, leading -Poacher by a small rope. "I'll just tie him behind," -he said, "to make sure. He's all right—and -here's papa."</p> - -<p>He stood aside, while his dignified parent got into -the sleigh. 'Tilda Jane, from her high seat, looked -around once. The lumber merchant and his son -were down in a black valley of soft, smothering furs, -Poacher was running agreeably behind, and Gippie -was snug and warm in her lap.</p> - -<p>No one spoke during the drive, and they glided -swiftly through the snowy town. 'Tilda Jane had -a confused vision of lighted shops with frosty windows, -of houses with more sober illuminations, then -suddenly they were stealing along the brink of a -long and narrow snow-filled hollow. This was the -Ciscasset River, still held by its winter covering.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> -She thought she heard a murmur of "rotten ice" -behind her as the lumber merchant addressed his -son, and she was enough a child of the State to -know that a reference to the breaking up of the ice -in the river was intended.</p> - -<p>Presently they dashed up a long avenue of leafless, -hardwood trees to a big house on the hill. A hall -door was thrown open, and within was a glimpse of -paradise for the homeless orphan. Softly tinted -lights in the background illuminated and made -angelically beautiful the white dresses and glowing -faces of a lady and three little girls who stood on -the threshold with outstretched arms.</p> - -<p>The father and son welcomed to these embraces -had forgotten 'Tilda Jane, and as the sleigh slowly -turned and went down the cold avenue, tears -streamed silently down her cheeks.</p> - -<p>"Where am I to take you?" suddenly asked the -solemn coachman beside her.</p> - -<p>"To Hobart Dillson's," she said, in a choking -voice.</p> - -<p>Nothing more was said, she saw nothing, heard -nothing, felt nothing of her immediate surroundings.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> -She had once been taken to a circus, and the picture -now before her mind was that of a tiger pacing back -and forth in his cage, growling in a low monotonous -tone, always growling, growling at a miserable child -shrinking outside.</p> - -<p>"That there is Dillson's cottage, I think," said -the coachman at last.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane roused herself. Through her blurred -vision a small house wavered at the end of a snowy -path. She wiped her eyes hastily, thanked the man, -and, slipping from her high seat, ran behind the -sleigh and untied Poacher.</p> - -<p>The man turned his sleigh and glided slowly out -of sight. She stood watching him till he disappeared, -then, followed by her two dogs went reluctantly -up the path.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER XV.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">THE FRENCH FAMILY.</span></h2> - - -<p>'Tilda Jane stood entranced. This was not the -Dillson cottage, the coachman had made a mistake. -She stood staring in the window, for this was a sight -that pleased her above all other sights.</p> - -<p>Here was another family,—a happy family, evidently, -all gathered around a cheerful fire in a good-sized -living-room. There were an old grandfather -in the corner smoking a pipe, an old woman beside -him with a white cap on her head, a middle-aged -man cleaning a gun by the light of a lamp on the -table, a middle-aged woman knitting a stocking, and -a cluster of children of all ages about the grandfather, -grandmother, father and mother.</p> - -<p>Mingled with the crackling of the open fire was -a very gay clatter of tongues speaking in some foreign -language, and one boy's voice soared above the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> -rest in the words of a song that 'Tilda Jane was -afterward to learn:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container" lang="fr" xml:lang="fr"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verseq">"<em>Un Canadien errant,</em></p> -<p class="verse"><em>Bannis de son pays,</em></p> -<p class="verse"><em>Parconrait en pleurant,</em></p> -<p class="verse"><em>Un pays étranger.</em>"</p> -</div></div> - -<p>She gazed at them until the sense of increasing -cold checked her rapture, and made her move regretfully -toward the door and rap on it.</p> - -<p>It was immediately opened by a brown-eyed child, -and held far back as if she were expected to enter.</p> - -<p>"Can you tell me where Mr. Hobart Dillson -lives?"</p> - -<p>"<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Ou-ay, ma'mzelle</i>," murmured the child, bashfully -hanging her head.</p> - -<p>"But enter—it is cold," called the mother, rising -and coming forward, stocking in hand.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane felt drawn toward this alluring family -circle, and one minute later was sitting in a chair -on its circumference.</p> - -<p>"But come in, dawgie," said the mother gently -to Poacher, who stood hesitating on the threshold.</p> - -<p>He came in, and was greeted silently and politely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> -by two respectable curs that rose from the hearth-stone -for the purpose, then he lay down beside them, -and gratefully extended his limbs to the fire.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane sat for a minute looking about her -without speaking. These people were not staring -at her, but they were all stealing occasional curious -glances in her direction.</p> - -<p>"I'm lookin' for Hobart Dillson's," she said, -bluntly, "but I guess there ain't no such person, -for the nearer I get the more he seems to run -off."</p> - -<p>The mother of the family smiled, and 'Tilda Jane -gazed in admiration at the soft black eyes under -the firm brows. "I can tell you, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">mademoiselle</i>—he -is near by, even nex' doah."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" murmured 'Tilda Jane, then she fell into -meditation. These people were foreigners, poor, -too, evidently, though perfectly neat and clean. -She wondered how they got into the country.</p> - -<p>"You air emigrants?" she said, at last, inquiringly.</p> - -<p>"French," said the woman, "'Cajien French—sent -from our country long ago. Our people went<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> -back. We returned to earn a little money. Too -many people where we lived."</p> - -<p>"Did you come through Vanceboro?" asked -'Tilda Jane.</p> - -<p>The woman's liquid eyes appealed to her husband. -He shrugged his shoulders, looked down the barrel -of his gun, and said, "It is a long time ago we -come. I do not know."</p> - -<p>"Mebbe they weren't so partickler," observed -'Tilda Jane.</p> - -<p>"Let um do!" came in a sepulchral voice from -the fireplace.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane stared at the old grandfather, who -had taken his pipe from his mouth to utter the -phrase, and was now putting it back.</p> - -<p>The house-mother addressed her. "Do not fear, -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">mademoiselle</i>; it is the only English he knows. He -means 'all right, do not anxious yourself, be calm, -very calm.'"</p> - -<p>"Does he?" murmured 'Tilda Jane; then she -added, unwillingly, "I must be going."</p> - -<p>"Delay youself yet a leetle," urged the woman, -and her pitying eyes ran over the girl's drooping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> -figure. "The children go to make corn hot. -Marie—" and a stream of foreign syllables trickled -and gurgled from her lips, delighting and fascinating -her caller.</p> - -<p>A little maid danced from the fireplace to one -of the tiny pigeon-hole rooms opening from the -large one, and presently came back with a bag of -corn and a popper.</p> - -<p>"And a glass of milk for <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">mademoiselle</i>," said the -woman to another child.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane was presently sipping her milk, eating -a piece of dark brown bread, and gazing dreamily -at the fire. Why could she not linger in this -pleasant home.</p> - -<p>"You know Mr. Dillson?" she said, rousing -herself with an effort, and turning to her hostess.</p> - -<p>"But yes—we have lived nex' him for so many -yeahs."</p> - -<p>"Do you think I can keep house for him?" asked -'Tilda Jane, wistfully.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a name="p190" id="p190"></a> -<img src="images/p190.jpg" width="550" alt="" /> -<div class="caption">"'YOU ARE YOUNG FOR THAT, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">MADEMOISELLE</i>, YET—'"</div> -<p class="rt"><a href="#LOI">[Back to LOI]</a></p> -</div> - -<p>The woman hesitated, laid her knitting on her -lap, and thoughtfully smoothed her tweed dress. -"You are young for that, <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">mademoiselle</i>, yet—" and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>she scrutinised 'Tilda Jane's dark, composed, almost -severe face—"if a girl could do it, I should think -yes—you can. He is seeck, poor man. He walks -not well at all. It makes him—"</p> - -<p>"Like the evil one," muttered her husband, -clutching his gun more tightly; "if he was a crow, -I would shoot."</p> - -<p>"Let um do!" came in guttural tones from -grandfather's corner.</p> - -<p>The woman laughed merrily, and all anxiety faded -from her face. "Hark to <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">gran'père</i>—it makes me -feel good, so good. No one can make us feel bad -if we feel not bad ourselves. Deelson is seeck. He -is not hap-py. Let us not be seeck, too. Let us be -hap-py. <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Allons mes enfants, est-ce que le</i>—" and -then followed more smooth syllables that 'Tilda Jane -did not understand.</p> - -<p>She soon saw, however, that an order had been -given to butter and salt the corn, and presently she -was shyly but sweetly offered some by the French -children. Even Poacher and Gippie had some kernels -laid before them, and in the midst of her concern -as to Mr. Dillson's behaviour, her heart swelled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> -with gratitude to think that she should have such -good neighbours. Here all was gentleness and peace. -She had never seen so kind a woman, such amiable -children. Did they ever quarrel and slap each other, -she wondered.</p> - -<p>"It's getting late, ain't it?" she exclaimed at last, -with uneasiness. "I must go," and she rose quickly.</p> - -<p>"But you can stay all night if you desiah," said -the woman, motioning toward the pigeon-holes. -"Stay, and go nex' doah in the morning."</p> - -<p>"No, no, I must not," said 'Tilda Jane very hastily, -through fear that she might yield to so pleasant a -temptation. "But can I drop in an' see you by -spells?"</p> - -<p>"But yes, yes—certainly, come often," said the -woman. "Come at any hour," she said under her -breath, and seizing 'Tilda Jane's hand in her own, -"if it is not agreeable there, at any time run here."</p> - -<p>"I'm 'bliged to you," said Tilda Jane, gratefully, -"much 'bliged, an' if you want any floors scrubbed, -or anythin' done, jus' you run over an' get me. I'll -come—" and with a sturdy nod of her head, she -took her dogs, and slipped out into the darkness.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> - -<p>"If agreeable leave your dogs here till mornin'," -called the woman after her.</p> - -<p>The little girl shook her head. "I guess he'd -better see 'em right off. Good-night, an' thank -you."</p> - -<p>The woman clasped her hands, and, looking up at -the sky before she went into the house, murmured -in her own language, "Holy One, guard her from -that terrible rage!"</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER XVI.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">THE TIGER IN HIS LAIR.</span></h2> - - -<p>The next house to that of the French people was -larger and more pretentious than theirs. It had -more of a garden, there were two stories instead of -one, and the roof was surmounted by a tiny tower.</p> - -<p>The outside of the tiger's den was highly satisfactory, -and 'Tilda Jane smiled in weary stoical humour. -Now to find the particular corner in which -the tiger himself abode. The house was dark, except -for one feeble glimmer of light on the ground floor. -She had rapped at the front door, she had rapped at -the back door without getting any response, and now -she returned to the latter to see if perchance it had -been left unfastened.</p> - -<p>It had, and lifting the latch cautiously, she went -in. She knew Mr. Dillson was an old man, she -knew he was lame, and possibly he heard her, but -could not come to her rescue. Passing through a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> -small porch where she stumbled against some heaped -up pans, she turned the first door-knob she touched -in passing her hand around the dark wall.</p> - -<p>She found herself in a kitchen. The table in the -middle of the floor, the chairs, the dresser, were all -illumined by a feeble, dying glow in a small cooking -stove, and by the beams of a candle struggling -through an open door.</p> - -<p>Poacher and Gippie crept after her as she proceeded -slowly in the direction of this light. They -felt that there was something mysterious afoot.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane paused at the bedroom door. Here -was the lair of the tiger, and there was the tiger -himself,—an old man with white hair, red eyes, and -a night-cap. A candle was on a shelf by the head -of the bed, and a pair of crutches was within reaching -distance, and the old man was lifting his head -from the pillow in astonishment.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane could not help laughing aloud in her -relief. This was not a very dangerous looking person. -He seemed more amazed than vexed, and she -laughed again as she noted his clutch of the bed-clothes, -and the queer poise of his white head.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p> - -<p>"'Scuse me, sir," she said, humbly, "for comin' -this time o' night, but I thought you'd like me to -report first thing. I hope you've heard from your -son I was comin'?"</p> - -<p>The old man said nothing. He was still open-mouthed -and dumb, but something in his face -assured 'Tilda Jane that he had heard—he had -received some news of her, apart from the telegram -sent by Mr. Jack.</p> - -<p>"I've had lots o' speriences," she said, with a tired -gesture. "I'll tell 'em some other time. I jus' -wanted to 'nounce my 'rival, an' tell you I'm goin' -to wait on you good—I guess I'll go to bed, if -you'll tell me where to get a candle, an' where I'm -to sleep."</p> - -<p>He would tell her nothing. He simply lay and -glared at her, and by no means disposed to seek a -quarrel with him, she made her way back to the -kitchen, opened the stove door, and, lighting a piece -of paper, searched the room until she found the -closet where the candles were kept.</p> - -<p>The old man lay motionless in his bed. He heard -her searching, heard the dogs pattering after her,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> -and a violent perspiration broke out upon him. -Wrath sometimes gave him unwonted fluency of -speech. To-night it rendered him speechless. He -did not wish this beggar's brat to wait on him. -Hank had not asked his permission to send her—had -simply announced that she was coming. He -was treated as if he were a baby—an idiot, and this -was his own house. Hank had nothing to do with -it. He didn't care if Hank did pay her. He had -money enough of his own to hire a housekeeper. -But he didn't want one. He wanted to wait on -himself. He hated to have women cluttering round, -and he lay, and perspired, and inwardly raged, and -obtained not one wink of sleep, while 'Tilda Jane, -having obtained what she wished, peacefully composed -herself to rest.</p> - -<p>First though, she calmly bade him "Good-night," -told him to "holler," if he wanted anything, and, -calling her dogs, went off in search of a bed for -herself.</p> - -<p>Beyond the kitchen was a front hall,—cold, -dusty, and comfortless. Up-stairs were four rooms, -two unfurnished, one having something the appear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>ance -of a spare room left long unoccupied, the other -smelling of tobacco, exceedingly untidy, littered with -old clothes, fishing rods, bats, cartridge shells, and -other boyish and manly belongings. This must be -Hank's room, probably it had been occupied later -than the other, and the bed would not be so damp. -She would sleep here, and she turned down the -clothes.</p> - -<p>"Good land!" she murmured, "I wonder how -long sence those blankets has been washed?" and -she turned them back again, and, going to the -other room, obtained two coverlets that she spread -over herself, after she lay down on the outside of the -bed.</p> - -<p>The dogs had already curled themselves up on a -heap of clothes on the floor, and in a few minutes -the three worn-out travellers were fast asleep.</p> - -<p>When 'Tilda Jane lifted her head from her very -shady pillow the next morning, her ears were saluted -by the gentle patter of rain. The atmosphere was -milder—a thaw had set in.</p> - -<p>She sprang up, and went to the dogs, who were -still snoring in their corner. "Wake up," she said,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> -touching them with her foot. Gippie started, but -something in the expression of Poacher's eloquent -eyes told her that, although he had been apparently -sound asleep, he knew perfectly well what was going -on about him.</p> - -<p>"Let's go and see Mr. Dillson," she exclaimed, -and picking up Gippie, she ran down-stairs with -Poacher at her heels.</p> - -<p>"It ain't cold—it's just pleasant," she muttered, -turning the key with difficulty in the front door, and -throwing it open.</p> - -<p>"Oh, my, how pretty!" and she clasped her hands -in delight. Across the road was the deep hollow of -the river. She was in one of a line of cottages following -its bank, and across the river were fields and -hills, now a soft, hazy picture in the rain. But the -sun would shine, fine days would come—what an -ideal place for a home! and her heart swelled with -thankfulness, and she forgot the cross old man in -the room behind her.</p> - -<p>The cross old man would have given the world -to have turned her out of his house at that very -minute, but his night of sleeplessness and raging<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> -temper had given him a fierce headache, a bad -taste in his mouth, and such a helplessness of limbs -that he could not turn in bed.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane fortunately did not know that if he -could have commanded his tongue he would have -ordered her into the street, but she saw that there -was something wrong with him, and as she stood in -his doorway, she said, pityingly, "I guess you're -sick; I'll make you some breakfast," and she vanished -in the direction of the wood-shed.</p> - -<p>He heard her chopping sticks, he heard the brisk -snapping of the fire and the singing of the teakettle. -He heard her breaking eggs—two eggs -when he never cooked more than one at a time! -He opened his mouth to protest, but only gave -utterance to a low roar that brought Poacher, who -happened to be the only one in the kitchen, into his -room to stare gravely and curiously at him.</p> - -<p>She made an omelet, she toasted bread, she -steeped him a cup of tea—this slip of a girl. She -had evidently been taught to cook, but he hated her -none the less as she brought in a tray and set it -beside his bed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p> - -<p>He would not touch the food, and he gave her -a look from his angry eyes that sent her speedily -from the room, and made her close the door behind -her.</p> - -<p>"I guess he'd like to gimme a crack with them -crutches," she reflected, soberly, "I'd better keep -out of his way till he's over it. Reminds me o' the -matron's little spells."</p> - -<p>If she had been a petted darling from some loving -home, she would have fled from the cottage in dismay. -As it was, although she suffered, it was not -with the keenness of despair. All her life she had -been on the defensive. Some one had always found -fault with her, some one was always ready to punish -her. Unstinted kindness would have melted her, -but anger always increased her natural obstinacy. -She had been sent here to take care of this old man, -and she was going to do it. She was too unconventional, -and too ignorant, to reflect that her protective -attitude would have been better changed for a -suppliant one in entering the old man's domain.</p> - -<p>However, if she had meekly begged the privilege -of taking care of him, he would have sent her away,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> -and as she was given neither to hair-splitting nor -introspection, but rather to the practical concerns of -life, she calmly proceeded with her task of tidying -the house without reference to future possibilities.</p> - -<p>The kitchen was the first place to be attacked, and -she carefully examined the stove. It smoked a little. -It needed cleaning, and girding on some old aprons -she found in the porch, she let the fire go out, and -then brushed, and rubbed, and poked at the stove -until it was almost as clean outside as it was inside. -Her next proceeding was to take everything off the -walls, and wipe them down with a cloth-bedraped -broom. Then she moved all the dishes off the -dresser, washed the chairs, and scrubbed the -floor.</p> - -<p>Then, and not until then, did she reopen the door -into the old man's room. Now he could see what a -clean kitchen she had, and how merrily the fire was -burning in the stove. It was also twelve o'clock, -and she must look about for something more to -eat.</p> - -<p>Mr. Dillson had not touched his breakfast, so she -ate it herself, made him fresh toast, a cup of tea, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> -a tiny meat hash, then went up-stairs to tidy her -bedroom.</p> - -<p>The hash was well-seasoned, and the odour of -onions greeted the old man's nostrils tantalisingly. -He was really hungry now. His wrath had burned -down for lack of fuel, and some power had come -back to his limbs. He ate his dinner, got out of -bed, dressed himself, and limped out to the kitchen.</p> - -<p>When he had dropped in his big rocking-chair, he -gazed around the room. The girl had done more in -one morning than all the women he had ever -employed had done in three. Perhaps it would be -economy to keep her. He was certainly growing -more feeble, and a tear of self-pity stood in his eye.</p> - -<p>There she was now, coming from the French-woman's -house. She had been over there to borrow -sheets, and a flash of impotent rage swept over -him. He tried to have no dealings with those foreigners. -He hated them, and they hated him. This -girl must go, he could not stand her.</p> - -<p>The back of his rocking-chair was padded, and -before he realised what was happening, his state -of fuming passed into one of sleepiness,—he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> -off, soundly and unmistakably announcing in plain -terms, through throat and nose, to the world of the -kitchen, that he was making up for time lost last -night.</p> - -<p>When he opened his eyes, it was late afternoon, -and 'Tilda Jane, sitting at a safe distance from him, -was knitting an unfinished sock of his, left by his -dead wife some ten years ago.</p> - -<p>He blinked at her in non-committal silence. She -gave him one shrewd glance, with her toe pushed -Gippie's recumbent body nearer her own chair, and -went on with her work. If he wanted to hear her -talk, he could ask questions.</p> - -<p>The afternoon wore away and evening came. -When it grew quite dark 'Tilda Jane got up, -lighted a lamp, put on the teakettle, and with -the slender materials at hand prepared a meal -that she set before the uncommunicative old man.</p> - -<p>He ate it, rolling his eyes around the clean -kitchen meanwhile, but not saying a word.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane kept at a safe distance from him -until he had finished and had limped into bed. -She then approached the table and ate a few mor<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>sels -herself, muttering as she did so, "I ain't hungry, -but I mus' eat enough to help me square up to that -poor ole crossy."</p> - -<p>She was, however, too tired to enjoy her supper, -and soon leaving it, she washed her dishes and went -up-stairs.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER XVII.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">THE TIGER MAKES A SPRING.</span></h2> - - -<p>The situation would have been absurd if it had -not been painful. The next morning the old man -was still in the same mood, angry at the girl's invasion -of his premises, and yet so appreciative of the -value of her energetic ways that he did not insist on -her departure. And so day after day, for a whole -week, 'Tilda Jane lived on, keeping house for the -old man, but saying not one word to him.</p> - -<p>He would not speak to her, and she would not -begin a conversation with him. She prepared his -meals from food that the storekeeper and butcher -readily gave her on the old man's account, and exercised -her tongue by talking to her dogs.</p> - -<p>Occasionally she called on her French neighbours, -the Melançons, and from them gleaned various items -of information about the eccentric Mr. Dillson, without, -however, allowing them to know that he would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> -not speak to her. This secret she proudly kept to -herself. She found out from them that the old man -was ordinarily in better health than at present,—that -he was usually able to hobble about the house -and wait on himself, for his temper had of late -become so violent that no woman in Ciscasset -would enter his house to work for him. Therefore, -'Tilda Jane's arrival had been most opportune, -for he would have been in danger of starving to -death if left to himself.</p> - -<p>Feeling persuaded of this, and greatly pleased to -think that she had been and was of service to the -father of her benefactor Hank, her attitude toward -the old man continued to be one of philosophical and -good-natured obstinacy. She would not speak to -him, but she was willing to wait on him in silence, -looking forward to the time when he would find his -tongue.</p> - -<p>Her only fear of his sullenness was on behalf of -her dogs. He hated them—she knew it by the -menacing tremble of his crutches whenever the -animals came within his reach. Therefore, her -constant endeavour was to keep them out of his way.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> -She had made two soft, persuasive beds in the -wood-shed for them; but it was cold there, and she -could not stay with them. They loved her with -all the strength of their doggish hearts, and wished -to be with her every minute of the time.</p> - -<p>Often at night she would start up in bed from -troubled dreams of a fierce old figure mounting the -staircase, crutch in hand. There was no lock on -her bedroom door, and if the old man had a sudden -accession of strength, he could easily push aside -the barrier of a wash-stand and two chairs that she -put across this door before she went to bed.</p> - -<p>She wished that Hank would come home. He -might persuade his peculiar parent to end this -unnatural silence, and give her a chance to become -acquainted with him.</p> - -<p>"Mebbe he'll soon come, Poacher," she whispered -in the ear of the dog who was sitting close beside -her. "We'll make up our minds for that, won't -we?"</p> - -<p>The dog was sitting up very straight beside her, -and gazing benevolently down at Gippie, who lay -on her lap. They were all out on the front door<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>-step, -and 'Tilda Jane was knitting industriously. -It was a day like May in the month of March—there -was a soft, mild air and a warm sun that made -dripping eaves and melting snow-banks. Little -streams of water were running from the garden -to the road, and from the road to the hollow of the -river, where large cakes of ice were slowly loosening -themselves, breaking up and floating toward the -sea. Spring was coming, and 'Tilda Jane, despite -the incorrigible sulkiness of the person with whom -she was living, felt it good to have a home.</p> - -<p>"We'll have lots o' sport by an' by runnin' -in the fields, Poacher," she whispered, lovingly, in -his ear, "you ole comfort—always so sweet, an' -good, an' never sassing back. You jus' creep away -when you see some one comin' and don't say a -word, do you? You're a sample to me; I wish -I was like you. An' you never want to be bad, -do you, an' chase back to the woods?"</p> - -<p>The dog abandoned his stately attitude, and gave -his tongue a quick fillip in the direction of her forehead. -No—thanks to her intense devotion to him, -he had no time for mournful reflections on the past.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> - -<p>"But I guess you'd like to see your master sometimes," -she murmured. "I see a hankerin' in your -eyes now an' agin, ole feller, an' then I jus' talk -to you hard. You darlin'!" and throwing her -arm around his neck, she squeezed him heartily.</p> - -<p>He was boldly reciprocating, by licking her little, -straight, determined nose, when there was a clicking -sound around the corner of the house.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane released him and raised her head. -The old man was approaching, leaning heavily on -his crutches. The beauty of the day had penetrated -and animated even his ancient bones. 'Tilda Jane -was delighted to see him moving about, but, giving -no sign of her satisfaction, she rose and prepared -to enter the house. He did not approve of having -the front door unlocked, he did not approve of her -habit of dodging out-of-doors whenever she had no -work to do inside. She felt this, although he had -never said it, and pushing Gippie into the hall, she -stepped down the walk to pick up her ball of yarn.</p> - -<p>The dog's enemy was some distance away, and -seeing him leaning so heavily on his crutches, it did -not occur to her that there could be any fear of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> -danger. However, with all her acuteness, she did -not measure the depth of his animosity, nor the -agility with which it could inspire him.</p> - -<p>With a deftness and lightness that would have -been admirable if it had not been cruel, the old man -bore all his weight on one crutch, swung the other -around in the air, and with the heavy end struck -a swift, sure blow on Poacher's glossy black forehead.</p> - -<p>It was all done in the twinkling of an eye—in -the short space of time that the little girl's back -was turned. She heard the crashing blow, flashed -around, and saw the black body of the dog extended -on a white snow-bank. His eyes were open, his -expression was still the loving one with which he -had been regarding her as she stooped to pick up -the ball.</p> - -<p>For an instant 'Tilda Jane felt no emotion but -wonder. She stood stock-still, staring alternately -at the old man and at the motionless body of the -dog. It had occurred to her that he would kill one -of her pets if he had a chance, but now that he -had done it, the thing seemed unreal, almost absurd.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> -Surely she was dreaming—that was not Poacher -lying there dead.</p> - -<p>She went up to the dog, touched him with soft, -amazed fingers, lifted the velvet ears, and put her -hands on his forehead. There was the slightest -ruffling of the smooth skin where the crutch had -struck him.</p> - -<p>The old man stood and watched her for a few -seconds, his face a trifle redder than usual, but -giving no other sign of emotion. He watched her -until she lifted her head and looked at him, then -he turned hastily and limped to the back door.</p> - -<p>It was an awful look to see on the face of a child,—an -avenging, unforgiving, hateful look,—the look -of a grown person in cold, profound wrath. He did -not regret killing the dog, he would like to dispose -of the other one, but he did object to those murderous -eyes. She was capable of killing him. He -must get rid of her, and make his peace with some -of the Ciscasset witches, in order that they might -come and wait on him.</p> - -<p>He went thoughtfully into the house and sat -down in his usual corner beyond the kitchen stove.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> -He wondered whether she would give him any supper. -He could get it himself to-night if she did not. -He was certainly better, and a glow of pleasure -made his blood feel warm in his veins.</p> - -<p>Stay—there she was, coming slowly in—he -thanked his lucky stars, looking very much the same -as usual. He would not be slain in his bed that -night. And she was getting fresh wood for the fire. -Perhaps she would make hot cakes for supper. She -was wonderfully smart for a girl. He had several -times speculated as to her age. Sometimes when -talking to the dogs she seemed no more than eleven -or twelve years old. Ordinarily she appeared to -him about fifteen, but small for the age. To-day in -her wrath, she might be taken for seventeen. How -subdued she seemed as she moved about the kitchen. -He had done a good thing to strike down one of -those animals. She would not have such an independent -air now.</p> - -<p>She built up the fire, set the teakettle on the -back of the stove—he wondered why she did not -put it on the front, and why she gradually piled on -sticks of wood until there was a roaring blaze that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> -caused him some slight uneasiness. Was she going -to set the chimney on fire?</p> - -<p>No, she was not; when there was a bed of fiery red -coals, she took up her tiny padded holder, lifted off -one of the stove covers, then, to his surprise, went into -the corner behind him, where he kept his crutches.</p> - -<p>What was she going to do? and he uneasily -turned his head.</p> - -<p>She had both his crutches in her hand—his polished -wooden crutches with the gold plate inscription. -Years ago, when he resigned his position as -bookkeeper at Waysmith and Son's big mill, a gold-headed -cane had been presented to him, on which -was engraved a flattering inscription. Nothing that -had ever been given to him in his life had tickled -his vanity as this present from the rich and prosperous -firm had done.</p> - -<p>When he had been obliged to put away the cane -on account of his increasing bodily infirmities, he -had had the gold plate inscription transferred to his -crutches where he could see it all the time, and have -others see it. Now—what was she going to do -with those crutches?</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a name="p215" id="p215"></a> -<img src="images/p215.jpg" width="600" alt="" /> -<div class="caption">"HE LIFTED UP HIS VOICE AND ROARED AT HER."</div> -<p class="rt"><a href="#LOI">[Back to LOI]</a></p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p> - -<p>He opened his mouth, and for the first time -addressed her. "Put those crutches down."</p> - -<p>She paid less attention to him than she did to -the crackling of the fire. Walking behind his chair, -and making a wide circle to avoid his outstretched -arms, she went to the other side of the stove and—</p> - -<p>He lifted up his voice and roared at her. She -was sticking the legs of his crutches down in that -fiery furnace.</p> - -<p>He roared again, but she did not even raise her -head. She was holding the crutches down, stuffing -them in, burning them off inch by inch—very -quietly, very deliberately, but very surely. She was -not thinking of him, she was thinking of the dead -dog out on the snow.</p> - -<p>He kept quiet for a few seconds, then he began -to bellow for mercy. She was burning up to the -cross-bar handles, she would soon reach that gold-plate -inscription, and now for the first time he knew -what those eulogistic words were to him—he, a -man who had had the temper of a maniac that had -cut him off from the sympathy of every human being -he knew.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p> - -<p>Tears ran down his cheeks—in incoherent words -he stammered an apology for killing her dog, and -then she relented.</p> - -<p>Throwing the charred and smoking tops to him, -she shut up the stove, took her hat and tippet from -a peg in the wall, and clasping Gippie to her, left the -house without one glance at the old man as he sat in -the smoky atmosphere mumbling to himself, and -fumbling over the burnt pieces of wood as tenderly -as if they had been babies.</p> - -<p>She had conquered him, but without caring for -her conquest she left him.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER XVIII.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">IN SEARCH OF A PERFECT MAN.</span></h2> - - -<p>Ciscasset, perhaps most beautiful of Maine towns -near the Canadian border, was particularly beautiful -on the morning after 'Tilda Jane's departure from -Hobart Dillson's cottage. The sun was still shining -fervently—so fervently that men threw open their -top-coats or carried them on their arms; the sky -was still of the delicate pink and blue haze of the -day before, the wind was a breath of spring blown at -departing winter.</p> - -<p>It was still early, and beautiful Ciscasset was not -yet really astir. Few women were to be seen on -the streets,—only a score of shop-girls hurrying to -their work,—but men abounded. Clerks were going -to their desks and counters, and early rising business -men to their offices. Market-men swarmed in from -the country in order to be the first to sell their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> -produce in the prosperous little town with the Indian -name.</p> - -<p>Other towns and villages might direct their search -across the sea for European titles for streets and -homes. Ciscasset prided itself on being American -and original. The Indian names were native to the -State, and with scarcely an exception prevailed in -the nomenclature of the town. Therefore the—in -other places Main Street—was here Kennebago -Street, and down this street a group of farmers was -slowly proceeding. They had sold their farm produce -to grocers and stable-keepers, and were now -going to the post-office for their mail.</p> - -<p>Assembled a few moments later in a corner of the -gray stone building, and diligently reading letters -and papers, they did not see a small figure approaching, -and only looked up when a grave voice inquired, -"Air you too busy to speak to me a minute?"</p> - -<p>The men all stared at the young girl with the dog -in her arms, the heavy circles around her eyes, and -the two red spots on her cheeks.</p> - -<p>"What do you want?" asked the oldest farmer, a -gray-haired man in a rabbit-skin cap.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I want to find the best minister in this place."</p> - -<p>A smile went around the circle of farmers. They -were all amused, except the gray-haired one. He -was nearest to 'Tilda Jane, and felt the intense -gravity of her manner.</p> - -<p>"In the town, I mean," she went on, wearily. "I -want to ask him something. I thought they'd know -in the post-office, but when I asked behind them -boxes," and she nodded toward the wall near them, -"they told me to get out—they was busy."</p> - -<p>The old farmer was silent for a moment. Then -he said, gruffly, "You look beat out, young girl, like -as if you'd been out all night."</p> - -<p>"I was," she said, simply, "I've been pacin' the -streets waitin' for the mornin'."</p> - -<p>The attitude of the younger men was half reproachful, -half disturbed. They always brought -with them to the town an uneasy consciousness that -they might in some way be fooled, and 'Tilda Jane's -air was very precocious, very citified, compared with -their air of rustic coltishness. They did not dream -that she was country-bred like themselves.</p> - -<p>The older man was thinking. He was nearer the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> -red spots and the grieving eyes than the others. -The child was in trouble.</p> - -<p>"Bill," he said, slowly, "what's the name o' that -man that holds forth in Molunkus Street Church?"</p> - -<p>His son informed him that he did not know.</p> - -<p>"How d'ye do, Mr. Price," said the farmer, leaving -the young farmers, and sauntering across to the -other side of the post-office, where a brisk-looking -man was ripping open letters. "Can you give us -the name of the preacher that wags his tongue in -the church on Molunkus Street?"</p> - -<p>"Burness," said Mr. Price, raising his head, and -letting his snapping eyes run beyond the farmer to -the flock of young men huddling together like gray -sheep.</p> - -<p>"Would you call him the best man in Ciscasset?" -pursued the farmer, with a wave of his hand toward -'Tilda Jane.</p> - -<p>Mr. Price's snapping eyes had already taken her in. -"What do you mean by best?" he asked, coolly.</p> - -<p>"I mean a man as always does what is right," -said 'Tilda Jane, when the question was left for her -to answer.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Don't go to Burness, then," said Mr. Price, -rapidly. "Good preacher—poor practiser."</p> - -<p>"Ain't there any good practisers in Ciscasset?" -asked the farmer, dryly.</p> - -<p>"Well—I know some pretty fair ones," responded -Mr. Price. "I don't know of one perfect -person in the length and breadth of the town. But -I know two people, though, who come near enough -to perfection for your job, I guess," and his brilliant -glance rested on 'Tilda Jane.</p> - -<p>"Who be they?" asked the farmer, curiously.</p> - -<p>"Is it this young girl that wants 'em?" asked -Mr. Price.</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir," said the farmer, "it is."</p> - -<p>"Then I'll tell her," said his quicksilver friend, -and he flashed to 'Tilda Jane's side. "Go up Wallastook -Street to Allaguash Street. Ask for Reverend -Mr. Tracy's house. Any one'll tell you—understand?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir—thank you; and thank <em>you</em>, too," and -with a grateful gesture toward the farmer, she was -gone.</p> - -<p>The farmer gazed after her. "I hate to see a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> -young one in trouble. Someone's been imposin' -on her."</p> - -<p>Mr. Price felt sympathetic, but he said nothing.</p> - -<p>"Who'd you send her to?" inquired the farmer. -"I'd give a barrel of apples to know."</p> - -<p>"To me?" inquired Mr. Price, smartly.</p> - -<p>The farmer laughed. "Yes, sir—I'd do it. -You've put me in the way of business before -now."</p> - -<p>"I sent her to a man," replied Mr. Price, "who -might be in Boston to-day if he wanted to. He gave -up a big church to come here. He's always inveighing -against luxury and selfishness and the other -crowd of vices. He and his wife have stacks of -money, but they give it away, and never do the peacock -act. They're about as good as they make 'em. -It isn't their talking I care about—not one rap. -It's the carrying out of their talk, and not going -back on it."</p> - -<p>"My daughter wants to go out as hired help. I -guess that would be an A number one place, if -they'd have her," observed the father, meditatively. -"Good enough," said Mr. Price, "if you want<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> -her to ruin her earthly prospects, and better her -heavenly ones," and he went away laughing.</p> - -<p>The farmer stepped to the post-office door. -'Tilda Jane was toiling up the sidewalk with downcast -head. The shop windows had no attractions -for her, nor was she throwing a single glance at -the line of vehicles now passing along the street; -and muttering, "Poor young one!" the farmer -returned to his correspondence.</p> - -<p>The Reverend Mr. Tracy was having his breakfast -in the big yellow house set up on terraces, -which were green in summer and white in winter. -The house was large, because it was meant to -shelter other people beside the Tracys and their -children, but there was not a stick of "genteel" -furniture in it, the new housemaid from Portland was -just disdainfully observing to the cook.</p> - -<p>"You'll get over that soon," remarked the cook, -with a laugh and a toss of her head, "and will be for -givin' away what we've got an' sittin' on the floor. -There's the door-bell. You'd better go answer it; -it's time the beggars was arrivin'."</p> - -<p>Mr. Tracy was late with his breakfast this morn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>ing, -because he had been out half the night before -with a drunken young man who had showed an -unconquerable aversion to returning home. Now as -he ate his chop and drank his hot milk, fed a parrot -by his side, and talked to his wife, who kept moving -about the room, he thought of this young man, until -he caught the sound of voices in the hall.</p> - -<p>"Bessie," he said, quietly, "there's your new maid -turning some one away."</p> - -<p>His wife stepped into the hall. The housemaid -was indeed assuring a poor-looking child that the -master of the house was at breakfast and could not -see any one.</p> - -<p>"Then I'll wait," Mrs. Tracy heard in a dogged -young voice. The front door closed as she hurried -forward, but she quickly opened it. There on the -top step sat a small girl holding a dog.</p> - -<p>"Good morning," she said, kindly; "do you want -something?"</p> - -<p>"I want to see the Reverend Tracy," responded -the little girl, and the clergyman's wife, used to -sorrowful faces, felt her heart ache as this most -sorrowful one was upturned to her.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Come in," she went on, and 'Tilda Jane found -herself speedily walking through a wide but bare -hall to a sunny dining-room. She paused on the -threshold. That small, dark man must be the minister. -He was no nearer beauty than she was, but -he had a good face, and—let her rejoice for this—he -was fond of animals, for on the hearth lay a cat and -a dog asleep side by side, in the long windows hung -canaries in cages, and on a luxuriant and beautiful -rose-bush, growing in a big pot drawn up to the table, -sat a green and very self-possessed parrot. She was -not screeching, she was not tearing at the leaves, she -sat meekly and thankfully receiving from time to -time such morsels as her master chose to hand her.</p> - -<p>The little, dark, quiet man barely turned as she -entered, but his one quick glance told him more than -hours of conversation from 'Tilda Jane would have -revealed. He did not get up, he did not shake -hands with her, he merely nodded and uttered -a brief "Good-morning."</p> - -<p>"Won't you sit here?" said Mrs. Tracy, bustling -to the fireplace, and disturbing the cat and the dog -in order to draw up a chair.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span></p> - -<p>"I think our young caller will have some breakfast -with me," said the minister, without raising his -eyes, and stretching out his hand he pushed a chair -beyond the rose-bush, and by a gesture invited 'Tilda -Jane to sit in it.</p> - -<p>She seated herself, crowded Gippie on her lap -under the table, and mechanically put to her mouth -the cup of steaming milk that seemed to glide to -her hand. She was nearly fainting. A few minutes -more, and she would have fallen to the floor. The -minister did not speak to her. He went calmly on -with his breakfast, and a warning finger uplifted -kept his wife from making remarks. He talked -a good deal to the parrot, and occasionally to himself, -and not until 'Tilda Jane had finished the milk -and eaten some bread and butter did any one -address her.</p> - -<p>Then the minister spoke to the bird. "Say good -morning to the little girl, Lulu."</p> - -<p>"Good morning," remarked the parrot, in a voice -of grating amiability.</p> - -<p>"Say 'It's a pretty world,' Lulu," continued her -owner.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p> - -<p>"It's a pretty world, darlin'," responded the -parrot, bursting into hoarse, unmusical laughter at -her own addition. "Oh, it's a pretty world—a -pretty world!"</p> - -<p>To the gentleman and his wife there was something -cynical and afflicting in the bird's comment -on mundane affairs, and they surreptitiously examined -their visitor. Did she feel this?</p> - -<p>She did—poor girl, she had been passing through -some bitter experience. There was the haunting, -injured look of wounded childhood on her face, and -her curled lip showed that she, too, young as she -was, had found that all was not good in the world, -all was not beautiful.</p> - -<p>The parrot was singing now:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verseq">"'Mid pleasures and palaces, though we may roam,</p> -<p class="verse">Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.</p> -<p class="verse">Home, home, sweet, s-we-e-e-t ho-o-o-me,"</p> -</div></div> - -<p class="noindent">but at this point she overbalanced herself. Her -uplifted claw swung over and she fell backward -among the rose-branches.</p> - -<p>The bird's rueful expression as she fell, her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> -ridiculous one as she gathered herself up, and with -a surprised "Oh, dear!" climbed back to her -perch, were so overcoming that the minister and -his wife burst into hearty laughter.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane did not join them. She looked interested, -and a very faint crease of amusement came -in a little fold about her lips, but at once faded -away.</p> - -<p>The minister got up and went to the fire, and -taking out his watch earnestly consulted its face, -then addressed his wife.</p> - -<p>"I have a ministers' meeting in half an hour. -Can you go down-town with me?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, dear," replied Mrs. Tracy, and she glanced -expectantly toward 'Tilda Jane.</p> - -<p>The little girl started. "Can I ask you a question -or so afore you go?" she asked, hurriedly.</p> - -<p>"No, my dear," said the man, with a fatherly air. -"Not until I come back."</p> - -<p>"I guess some one's told you about me," remarked -'Tilda Jane, bitterly.</p> - -<p>"I never heard of you, or saw you before a quarter -of an hour ago," he replied, kindly. "Do you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> -see that sofa?" and he drew aside a curtain. "You -lie down there and rest, and in two hours we shall -return. Come, Bessie—" and with his wife he left -the room.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane was confounded, and her first idea was -of capture. She was trapped at last, and would be -sent back to the asylum—then a wave of different -feeling swept over her. She would trust those two -people anywhere, and they liked her. She could tell -it by their looks and actions. She sighed heavily, -almost staggered to the sofa, and throwing herself -down, was in two minutes sleeping the sleep of utter -exhaustion.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER XIX</a><br /> - -<span class="small">SWEET AND SOFT REPENTANCE.</span></h2> - - -<p>She was awakened by a hoarse whisper in her -ear: "Get up and go on, get up and go on. Don't -croak, don't croak!"</p> - -<p>Her eyelids felt as heavy as lead, it seemed as if -she would rather die than stir her sluggish limbs, yet -she moved slightly as the rough whisper went on, -"Get up and go on, get up and go on. Don't croak, -don't croak!"</p> - -<p>It was the parrot with the cold in her throat, and -she was perched on the sofa cushion by her head. -'Tilda Jane raised herself on one hand. How weary, -how unspeakably weary she was! If she could only -lie down again—and what was the matter with her? -Why had she waked with that terrible feeling of -unhappiness?</p> - -<p>She remembered now—Poacher was gone. She -had not shed a tear over him before, but now she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> -hid her face in her hands, and indulged in low and -heart-broken lamentation. Poor Poacher—dear, -handsome dog! She would never see him again. -What would the Lucases say if they knew of his -untimely end? What should she do without him? -and she cried miserably, until the sound of voices in -the next room recalled her to herself.</p> - -<p>She was in the minister's house, and she must get -her business over with, and be gone. So choking -back her emotion, she wiped her face, smoothed her -dress, and, followed by Gippie, stepped into the -dining-room.</p> - -<p>The minister was seated by the fire reading to -his wife. He got up when he saw 'Tilda Jane, gave -her a chair, then went on with his book. After -some time he laid it down. His caller was composed -now, and something told him that she was -ready to consult him.</p> - -<p>He smiled a beautiful, gentle smile at her, and -thus encouraged, she swallowed the lump in her -throat and began:</p> - -<p>"I'm 'bliged to you, sir, for lettin' me sleep -an' givin' me some breakfus, an' can I tell you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> -somethin' 'bout myself? I'm all kind o' scatter-wise."</p> - -<p>"And you wish some one to straighten you out?" -he asked, benevolently.</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir—an' I thought the best person would -be a minister—they said you was the best here."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Tracy smiled in a gratified fashion, while -'Tilda Jane went earnestly on, "I'm all mixy-maxy, -an' I feel as if I hadn't started right. I guess I'll -tell you jus' where I come from—I s'pose you -know the Middle Marsden Orphan 'Sylum?"</p> - -<p>The minister told her that he had heard of it. -He did not tell her that he had heard it was one of -the few badly managed institutions for orphans in -the State, that the children were kept strictly, fed -poorly, and were rapidly "institutionalised" while -under the care of uneducated, ignorant women, who -were only partially supervised by a vacillating board -of lady managers.</p> - -<p>"Well, I was riz there," continued 'Tilda Jane, -"rizzed mostly in trouble, but still I was riz, an' -the ladies paid for me, an' I didn't take that into -'count when I run away."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p> - -<p>"So you ran away," he said, encouragingly.</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir, 'count o' this dog, I said," and she -pointed to Gippie, "but I guess inside o' me, 'twas -as much for myself. I didn't like the 'sylum, I -wanted to run away, even when there was no talk -o' the dog, an' I'll tell you what happened," and -while the minister and his wife courteously listened, -she gave a full and entire account of her wanderings -during the time that she had been absent from the -asylum. She told them of Hank Dillson, of her -sojourn at Vanceboro, and her experience with the -Lucases, and finally her story brought her down to -the events of the day before.</p> - -<p>"When that ole man keeled over my dog," she -said, brokenly, "that dog as had saved my life, I -wanted murder. I wished something would strike -him dead. But he didn't fall dead, an' then I -thought it was time for me to chip in an' do -somethin'. I took them crutches as he can't -move without, an' I burnt 'em most up—all but -a little bit at the top with the gold writin', 'cause -he sits an' gazes at it, an' I guess sets store -by it."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p> - -<p>"You burnt Hobart Dillson's crutches!" exclaimed -Mrs. Tracy, in surprise.</p> - -<p>"Yes, ma'am—'cause he'd killed my dog."</p> - -<p>"I wonder he had not struck you down," said the -lady, with a shudder. "He is said to be a man -with a very violent temper."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane sprang up, her face as white as a -sheet. "I mos' forgot. I s'pose he's sittin' there -this minute. He can't move without 'em, an' nobody'll -go near him. Now, sir,"—and she turned -in desperate haste to the little, dark, silent man,—"tell -me quick what I ought to do."</p> - -<p>"You are a child with a conscience," he said, -gravely; "you have been turning the matter over -in your own mind. What conclusion have you -reached?"</p> - -<p>"Go on," said the parrot, hoarsely, and between -intervals of climbing by means of bill and claw to -the top of a chair, "go on, and don't croak. Don't -cr-r-r-r-oak!"</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a name="p235" id="p235"></a> -<img src="images/p235.jpg" width="550" alt="" /> -<div class="caption">"'I'VE LED ANOTHER DOG ASTRAY, AN' NOW HE'S DEAD!'"</div> -<p class="rt"><a href="#LOI">[Back to LOI]</a></p> -</div> - -<p>'Tilda Jane turned her solemn face toward the -bird. "Walkin' to an' fro las' night, a verse o' -Scripter kep' comin' to me, 'Children, obey your -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>parents in the Lord—' Now, I ain't got any parents, -but I had lady-boards. I oughtn't to 'a' run away. I -ought to have give up the dog, an' trusted. I ought -to 'a' begged them to get me a home. I ought to 'a' -been a better girl. Then I might 'a' been 'dopted. -Ever sence I've run away, there's been trouble—trouble, -trouble, nothin' but trouble. I've led another -dog astray, an' now he's dead!"</p> - -<p>Mr. and Mrs. Tracy exchanged a pitying glance. -The child was intensely in earnest. Her black eyes -were bent absently on the parrot who had fallen prey -to an immense curiosity with regard to Gippie, and -having surveyed him from the back of the chair -and the mantel, and finding him harmless, was now -walking cautiously around him as he lay on the -hearth-rug. Presently, emboldened by his silence, -she took the end of his tail in her beak. He did -not move, and she gently pinched it.</p> - -<p>There was a squeal, a rush, and a discomfited -parrot minus three tail feathers flying to her master's -shoulder.</p> - -<p>"Oh, my!" she exclaimed, "my, my! What a -fuss—what a fuss!"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p> - -<p>Very little attention was paid her. Her master -and mistress were taken up with the youthful -owner of the dog, but Mr. Tracy mechanically -stroked the bird as he put another question to -'Tilda Jane.</p> - -<p>"And what do you propose to do?"</p> - -<p>"I think I ought to go back," she said, earnestly. -"I ought to say I'm sorry. I ought to say I'll do -better."</p> - -<p>"Go back—where?" asked Mrs. Tracy, eagerly.</p> - -<p>"First to the ole man. I ought to be civil to -him. I ought to talk, an' not be mum like an -oyster. I ought to ask him if he wants me to go -'way. I ought to write the lady-boards an' tell 'em -where I be. I ought to say I'll go back."</p> - -<p>"Do you wish to go back?" asked Mr. Tracy.</p> - -<p>A shiver passed over 'Tilda Jane's slight frame, -but she spoke up bravely. "I ain't a-goin' to think -o' that, sir. I've got to do what's right."</p> - -<p>"And what about your dog?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Gippie ain't in it at all," she said, with -animation. "He don't need to go. I guess I'll -find some nice home for him with somebody as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> -likes animiles," and a shrewd and melancholy smile -hovered about her tense lips as she gazed at her -host and hostess.</p> - -<p>"Poor little girl," said Mrs. Tracy, sympathetically; -"we will take your dog and you, too. You -shall not go back—you shall live with us."</p> - -<p>As she spoke, her big blue eyes filled with tears, -and she laid a caressing hand on 'Tilda Jane's -shoulder.</p> - -<p>"Please don't do that, ma'am," said the little -girl, vehemently, and slipping her shoulder from -under the embracing hand. "Please don't do anything -homey to me. Treat me as if I was a real -orphan."</p> - -<p>"A real orphan," repeated Mrs. Tracy, in slight -bewilderment.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I want a home," cried the little girl, clenching -her hands, and raising her face to the ceiling. -"I want some one to talk to me as if I had -blue eyes and curly hair. I want a little rocking-chair -an' a fire. I don't want to mind bells, an' -run with a crowd o' orphans, but it ain't the -will o' Providence. I've got to give up," and her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> -hands sank to her sides, and her head fell on her -breast.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Tracy bit her lip, and pressed her hands -together.</p> - -<p>"Will you stay to dinner with us, my dear?" said -Mr. Tracy, softly. "I will take you into my study -where there is a fire and a rocking-chair, and you -shall see some curiosities that I picked up in Palestine."</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, sir, I must go," and she again became -animated. "That ole man—I mus' see him. Tell -me, sir, jus' what I am to do. I've been doin' all -the talkin', an' I wanted to hear you. I guess I'm -crazy," and she pressed her hands nervously over -her ears.</p> - -<p>She was in a strange state of nervous exaltation -that was the natural reaction from her terrible dejection -of the evening before. She had decided to -make a martyr of herself—a willing martyr, and -Mr. Tracy would not detain her.</p> - -<p>"Go back to Mr. Dillson's, my dear; you have -mapped out your own course. I do not need to -advise you. Your conscience has spoken, and you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> -are listening to its voice. Go, and God bless you. -You shall hear from us."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane was about to rush away, but Mrs. -Tracy detained her. "Wait an instant. I have -something for you," and she hurried from the room.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER XX.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">WAITING.</span></h2> - - -<p>Mr. Dillson had not passed a pleasant night. -In the first place he had not been able to move for -a long time after 'Tilda Jane's departure. For half -an hour he had sat, hoping that she would return, -or that some one would call on some errand. Without -his crutches he was helpless.</p> - -<p>Strange to say, he was not in a rage with her. -Indeed, he had never felt more kindly disposed -toward her, and he certainly had never so longed -for a sight of her little thin, ungraceful figure. -Just at the moment of the burning of the crutches -he could have felled her to the earth, but after it -was an accomplished fact his lack of resentment -was a marvel even to himself. Possibly it was -because she had saved the gold plate. Possibly—as -minute after minute went by—it was because a -peculiar fear drove all vengeance from his mind.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p> - -<p>He had not liked the look in her eyes when she -went out. Suppose she should make way with herself? -Suppose she should jump into a hole in the -ice, or throw herself in front of a locomotive, or do -any other of the foolish things that desperate and -maddened people were in the habit of doing? What -would then be his position? Not an enviable one, -by any means. He was partly—not wholly, for he -had some shreds of vanity left—aware of his neighbours' -opinion respecting himself. There was an -ugly word they might connect with his name—and -he glowered over the fire, and felt sufficiently uncomfortable -until a strange and marvellous thing -happened.</p> - -<p>The kitchen was in an ell of the house, and, by -hitching his chair around, he could command a view -from the side window of a slice of the garden in -front, and also of a narrow strip of the road before -the house. He would watch this strip, and if a -passer-by appeared, would hail him or her, and beg -to have a new pair of crutches ordered from the -town.</p> - -<p>It was while he was sitting in the gathering gloom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> -watching this bit of highway, that the marvellous -thing happened. Just by the corner of the house -was a black patch on the snow,—the hind legs and -tail of the poor deceased Poacher. The fore part of -the body was beyond his vision. Dillson had no -particular dislike for the spectacle. A dead dog was -a more pleasant sight than a living one to him, and -he was just wondering whom he would get to remove -the animal, when he imagined that he saw the -tail move.</p> - -<p>No, it was only his imperfect vision, and he rubbed -his eyes and moistened his glasses. Now the tail -was no longer there—the hind legs were no longer -there. Had some one come up the front walk and -drawn the creature away?</p> - -<p>He pressed his face close against the window-pane. -No—there was the dog himself on his feet and -walking about—first in a staggering fashion, then -more correctly.</p> - -<p>The old man eagerly raised the window. If the -girl lived, and was going about saying that he -had killed her dog, here was proof positive that -he had not; and smacking his lips, and making a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> -clicking sound with his tongue, he tried to attract -the resuscitated Poacher's attention. He must -capture the animal and keep him.</p> - -<p>It was years since he had called a dog—not since -he was a young man and had gone hunting on the -marshes below the town.</p> - -<p>"Here, dog, dog!" he said, impatiently; "good -dog!"</p> - -<p>Poacher gravely advanced to the window and -stood below him.</p> - -<p>"Good dog," repeated the old man. "Hi—jump -in," and he held the window higher.</p> - -<p>The dog would not jump while the enemy was -there. He would not have jumped at all, if he had -been at the back door, for he would have smelled his -mistress's tracks and gone after her. Now he suspected -that she was in the house.</p> - -<p>Though every movement gave him agony, the old -man hobbled away from the window. The dog -sprang in, and Dillson clapped the sash down. He -had the animal now.</p> - -<p>Poacher was running around the room, sniffing -vigorously. He stood on his hind legs and smelled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> -at the peg where the hat and tippet had hung. -Then he ran to the wood-shed door.</p> - -<p>With a most unusual exertion of strength, the old -man rose, pushed the chair before him, and breathing -hard, and resting heavily on it, opened the cellar -door. He would shut the dog down there out of -sight, and where he could not run out if any one -came in.</p> - -<p>"She's down there, dog," he said, and the boldness -with which he told the story so impressed -Poacher, that after one inquiring glance which -convinced him that his enemy's attitude had -changed from that of a murderous to a semi-friendly -one, he dashed down the steps into the -cold cellar.</p> - -<p>Dillson slammed the door, and chuckled. Now -to get back to the window. He tried to hitch his -chair along, but he was weak and must rest. He -sat for a few minutes, and when the few minutes -were over, he found that his muscles had stiffened. -He could not move.</p> - -<p>He sat a little longer. The fire went out, and -the room got cold. He was so far from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> -window that he doubted if any one could hear him -if he shouted.</p> - -<p>He lifted up his voice to try. He was as hoarse -as a crow. He had a cold, and it was every -minute getting worse. If he had the dog from -the cellar, he might tie something to him and -frighten him so that he would go dashing through -a window. He began to feel that if the little girl -did not return, he might sit there till he died.</p> - -<p>His case was not desperate yet, however. He -waited and waited. The night came and went, -and another morning dawned, and the weather -changed outside, until a stiff frost began to transform -the thaw into a return of winter weather—and -still he waited, but the little girl did not -come.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER XXI.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">THE TIGER BECOMES A LAMB.</span></h2> - - -<p>Gippie was tired out, and in an execrable temper. -He had had to trot home all the way from the -Tracys, for his mistress was carrying a long bundle -under one arm, and a good-sized basket on the -other. And now that she was in sight of the house, -she was fairly running, and he could scarcely keep -up with her.</p> - -<p>Her head was turned far round, she was looking -over her shoulder in the direction away from -the front of the house, and yet she went right -to the spot where the unfortunate Poacher had -fallen.</p> - -<p>Gippie knew very well what all her emotion was -about. Like some deaf and partly blind human -beings, he was more aware of happenings than -people supposed. Poacher was dead, and he was -not sorry for it, for he had been desperately jeal<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>ous -of him, and limping up to his mistress he -impatiently whined to claim recognition.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Gippie, what shall I do?" she moaned. -"What shall I do? He was so good and gentle. -I can't go in—I can't go in."</p> - -<p>She was on her knees on the snow. Her hands -were wandering over the depression where Poacher -had lain. Her face was so pale and unhappy, that -even Gippie's selfish heart was touched, and standing -on his hind legs to reach her shoulder, he -tenderly licked her right ear inside and out, until -she brushed him aside with a half laugh, half sob, -and a murmured, "You tickle my ear, Gippie."</p> - -<p>She got up and moved slowly toward the back -door, while the dog trotted along nimbly on his three -legs after her. Why, what a vault! and Gippie -shivered and turned his short-sighted eyes in the -direction of the kitchen stove. It was black and -cold, and the old man, sitting in the draughtiest corner -of the room, right by the cellar door, was a dull, -mottled purple. He did not speak when the door -opened. He was morose and silent, and his whole -appearance was that of a man in extreme distress.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p> - -<p>Gippie was an excellent hater, and it did him -good to see the old man suffer. However, he did -not care to suffer with him, and squealing dismally, -he planted himself near the delinquent stove.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane's listlessness and painful depression -were gone. With a quick exclamation, she had -dropped her basket and bundle, and had sprung to -the kindling box.</p> - -<p>There was nothing in it. She rushed to the -wood-shed, came back with a handful of sticks and -paper, and by dint of extra quick movements had, -in an astonishingly short space of time, a good fire -roaring up the chimney.</p> - -<p>Then she turned to the old man, who was still -sitting in stony silence. "I'm 'fraid you're most -froze, sir. Can't you come nigher the fire?"</p> - -<p>Dillson's eyelids were swollen with the cold, but -there was still room for a disagreeable twinkle to -glimmer through. He would say nothing, however, -and 'Tilda Jane, approaching the long, peculiar -looking bundle, opened it, took out a pair of -crutches, and handed them to him with a humble, -supplicating air.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span></p> - -<p>Gippie crawled farther under the stove, and, -lowering his head, awaited developments.</p> - -<p>But there was no danger of a blow from the old -man. His hands were so benumbed that he could -not hold the crutches. They slipped to the floor -with a crash, and, opening his purple lips, he ejaculated -the word, "Tea!"</p> - -<p>"Ain't you had nothin' sence I left?" inquired -'Tilda Jane, sharply.</p> - -<p>Dillson shook his head.</p> - -<p>"You ain't been sittin' there all night?"</p> - -<p>He nodded his head this time.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane's face took on an expression of dismay, -and she flew around the kitchen.</p> - -<p>The warm atmosphere was now enwrapping the -old man in a most agreeable manner, and when -'Tilda Jane handed him the big cup, he grunted -something between an expression of thanks and a -desire that she should hold it to his lips.</p> - -<p>While he greedily drank the hot liquid, 'Tilda -Jane, with a queer choking in her throat, addressed -broken remarks to him. "I didn't know, sir—I -was hopin' some one would come in—I was mos'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> -crazy 'bout the dog—I forgot all 'bout you till -jus' now."</p> - -<p>"More," he said, shortly, when 'Tilda Jane put -the cup down.</p> - -<p>She refilled it, then, as his hands began to get -supple and he could manipulate it himself, she -uncovered the basket Mrs. Tracy had given her.</p> - -<p>"I didn't look in before," she exclaimed. "Oh, -the beauty eggs!" and she carefully unrolled a -napkin, "an' the white rolls, an' Washington cake, -an' a meat pie, an' a tart—I say, grampa, we'll -have a good dinner!"</p> - -<p>The old man looked strangely at her, but she -went on unheedingly: "They're jus' boss people. -I'm glad I went an' talked to 'em—I'm sorry I was -so ugly to you, grampa, an' if you don't want me, -I guess I'd better go 'way."</p> - -<p>She spoke quite humbly and naturally, and, as she -did so, she raised her head and glanced in Dillson's -direction.</p> - -<p>He made no response, and she went on: "I've -been a very bad little girl, but I'm goin' to be better, -an' you jus' tell me what you want me to do,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> -grampa, an' I'll do it, an' if you don't want to -talk, you jus' write it. I know you're a big -man, an' mebbe you don't want to talk to a -little girl like me, but I'll not lay it up agin you. -You jus' do what you want, an' I'm not tryin' -to come round you, 'cause I 'spect you'll send -me off quicker'n a flash so soon as you get some -one else."</p> - -<p>Her lips were trembling, and her face was bright -and expectant, but the old man gave her no satisfaction.</p> - -<p>"Hand me some of that pie," he said, unexpectedly.</p> - -<p>"Can you wait till I set the table an' make it look -real pretty, grampa?" she said, coaxingly.</p> - -<p>Dillson was nearly starved, and, without a word, -held out his hand in a commanding fashion.</p> - -<p>"All right, grampa," she said, gently, and she -handed him a generous slice; "anythin' you like. -This is your house. It ain't mine."</p> - -<p>Dillson ate his pie, watching her meanwhile out -of a corner of his eye.</p> - -<p>"Bread and meat," he said when he had finished.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span></p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane supplied this want, and earnestly -watched these viands going the way of the pie.</p> - -<p>"More tea," he said, when they were gone.</p> - -<p>When he had eaten and drunk to an alarming -extent, he pointed to the crutches. "Where did -you get them?"</p> - -<p>"I saw 'em in a window, grampa,—a great big -druggist's window,—an' I went in an' said to the -man, 'Can you trust me for 'em? I'll pay you, sure -pop, if you'll gimme time. I'm goin' to be a good -girl now, an' never tell no more lies nor steal, nor -do anythin' bad,' but he jus' said ever so grumpy, -'This is a cast down, no credit system store,' but I -wasn't cas' down, an' I said, 'S'pose you was a lame -man, an' a bad little girl burnt up your crutches, -how would you feel? 'Then he looked kind o' -solemn, an' said, 'Whose crutches was burnt up?' -An' I said, 'Mr. Hobart Dillson's crutches,' an' he -said, 'What girl burnt 'em?' I said, 'A little girl -that don't know where to look.' Then he asked -what you said when I burnt your crutches, an' I -said you didn't say much, you jus' cussed. Then -he turned his face round to the bottles, an' when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> -he looked out it was red, an' he was shakin' all over -like as if he's been cryin', an' he jus' pointed to the -crutches an' said, 'Take 'em, an' welcome.'"</p> - -<p>Dillson's head dropped on his breast. This girl -had evidently gone to Peter Jerret's store,—Peter -Jerret who had owed him a grudge ever since the -day he went in and denounced him before a store full -of customers for overcharging him for prescriptions. -Peter had actually dared to pity him—Hobart Dillson, -and so had let the girl have the crutches, not -caring whether he ever got paid or not. Well, he -hadn't thought Peter would ever pity him, and, drawing -his crutches toward him, Dillson cautiously lifted -himself, and tried his weight upon them.</p> - -<p>Yes, he could walk, he would go to bed, and think -over Peter's conduct. It affected him, but he must not -look soft. "Open my door," he said to 'Tilda Jane.</p> - -<p>While she flew to obey his command, the old -man heard a low whine near him, and remembered -Poacher. The dog had recognised the girl's voice, -and would soon make himself known. He might as -well have the credit of his discovery. If she had -come home sulky he would have allowed her to find<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> -the dog for herself, but she was meek and biddable, -and she had also secretly pleased him by addressing -him as "grampa," in tones of such respect and -affection. She had improved decidedly, and he exclaimed, -peremptorily, "Here, you!"</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane ran out from the bedroom, where she -was turning down the icy sheets in the bed so that -the chill might be taken from them.</p> - -<p>"Open this door," ordered the old man.</p> - -<p>With a wondering air 'Tilda Jane threw back the -cellar door. Then she gave a joyful scream.</p> - -<p>There, standing on the top step, cold and shivering, -half famished, but alive and well, was her -beloved Poacher.</p> - -<p>She tried to catch him around the neck, but he -flew past her into the kitchen, came back like a shot, -and, dashing up her back, licked her neck, sprang -into the air, and again racing round and round the -room, brought on what she herself would call a -"combobberation."</p> - -<p>The old man was so near, that Poacher, in his wild -gyrations to and fro, swept one of his crutches from -him. 'Tilda Jane, even in the midst of her aston<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>ished -and ecstatic glee, perceived this, and stooped -down to recover the lost article, but she could not -lay her hand on it, for the excited dog, with his head -in the air and his tongue hanging out, made repeated -dashes at her, beside her, behind her,—he was -everywhere that she was. And Gippie was after -him, for, snorting with rage and mortification at the -resuscitation of his rival, he had bounded from -under the stove, and, with his maimed tail wagging -excitedly in the air, was biting, snapping, growling -at Poacher's heels, nipping him fiercely, if by chance -he paused a second to rest.</p> - -<p>The noise and confusion were overcoming, and the -old man, holding firmly to his remaining crutch, and -grasping the back of a chair, grimly surveyed the -scene. Finally 'Tilda Jane secured the crutch, and, -pantingly brushing back her dishevelled hair, she -passed it to him across the dogs' backs.</p> - -<p>Poacher had now sunk on the floor at her feet, -while Gippie was exerting his feeble strength in -trying to crowd him away from 'Tilda Jane's stout -shoes.</p> - -<p>"Forgive us, grampa, dear grampa," she said,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> -beseechingly; "but it's such a joyful 'casion—such -a 'casion. My heart never felt so big in my life. -It's all swolled up. Oh, ain't you sweet to prepare -this s'prise for me. When I come back jus' now I -thought my pet was buried in the cold ground—oh, -I jus' love you!" and, climbing over the quarrelling -dogs, she seized the bunch of knuckles nearest -her, and kissed them fervently.</p> - -<p>The old man slowly uncurled his fist and looked -at it. How many years was it since any one had -kissed him?</p> - -<p>He put the crutch under his arm, and turned -toward the bedroom.</p> - -<p>"Good night, grampa, dear grampa," floated sweetly -after him. The girl was down on the floor with her -dogs, her arm was around the hound's black neck, the -three-legged atrocity was pressed to her side. She -was happy, yes, happy—"as happy as a fool," he -grumbled to himself. Nothing to annoy her, nothing -to trouble her. Wait till she got older, and life's -worries began to crowd around her, and with an impatient -groan the old man flung himself down on the -chair by his bed.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER XXII.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">A TROUBLED MIND.</span></h2> - - -<p>'Tilda Jane and grampa were sitting out in front -of the house. The spring months had passed, the -apple-trees had blossomed, and the young apples had -formed. With the changing season had come happier -days for 'Tilda Jane. Little by little, as the -weeks slipped by, a better understanding had arisen -between her and "grampa."</p> - -<p>He still gave way occasionally to terrible fits of -temper and sullenness, but 'Tilda Jane understood -him better now, and was quick to soothe and pacify -him, or, if he was unmanageable, to keep out of his -presence until he recovered.</p> - -<p>Just now he was in an unusually amiable frame -of mind,—a frame of mind so accommodating that it -boded storms in the near future. However, 'Tilda -Jane did not care. She accepted the present peace -and was thankful.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span></p> - -<p>She had dragged out his big rocking-chair for him -to sit on, and had given him an evening paper to -read, while she herself was curled up on her -favourite seat on the door-step.</p> - -<p>The old man was not inclined to read his paper, -and dropping it on his knees he took off his glasses, -put them in his pocket, and let his eyes wander to -the apple-trees.</p> - -<p>The river was flowing blue and open now, birds -were singing, and all things betokened a fine -summer.</p> - -<p>"When you hear those robins sing, don't it feel -as if there was a little string squeakin' inside o' -you?" said 'Tilda Jane, gleefully.</p> - -<p>Dillson made no reply, and seeing that he was in -no mood for a sympathetic comparison of emotions, she -diplomatically started another topic of conversation.</p> - -<p>"I guess the birds make me glad, 'cause I'm so -happy you let me bide with you, grampa—an' -you've been so noble an' generous to lend me money -to pay for the matron's shawl I took for Gippie. -An' it was so kind in the lady-boards to write back -that they was glad to get rid of me."</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a name="p258" id="p258"></a> -<img src="images/p258.jpg" width="650" alt="" /> -<div class="caption">"'THEY WAS GLAD TO GET RID OF ME.'"</div> -<p class="rt"><a href="#LOI">[Back to LOI]</a></p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span></p> - -<p>The old man laughed a toothless laugh at her -whimsical view of the lady-boards' reply, but said -nothing.</p> - -<p>"I ain't told you much of my travels yet, -grampa," she said, agreeably. "I've been so busy -house-cleanin'. I guess you'd like to hear about -Vanceboro."</p> - -<p>The old man did not display any particular interest -in Vanceboro, but having assured herself by a swift -examination of his features that the subject was not -disagreeable to him, she went on, "It's a great ole -place. I'd like you to go there sometime, grampa. -Such goings-on with them furriners! I saw one -woman walkin' up and down wringin' her hands an' -cryin' 'cause they wouldn't let her bring her ole -mother into this nation."</p> - -<p>She waited for her hearer to ask why the mother -was forbidden to come where the daughter could -enter, but he did not do so, and she continued, -"She was a poor woman from Boston, an' her -mother was a poor woman from Canada, an' they -said if she come in 'twould be two poor women -together, an' first thing they knowed they'd be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> -both in the poorhouse. So her mother had to go -back to Canada."</p> - -<p>Dillson looked entirely uninterested in the case of -the would-be immigrant, so, after a farewell announcement -that sometimes as many as two hundred -"furriners" went through Vanceboro in a single -day, 'Tilda Jane passed on to another branch of -her subject.</p> - -<p>"It's a reg'lar jubilee, grampa, when the trains -come in—a boy runnin' to a big bell an' ringin' it, -an' people pourin' into the lunch-room, an' jus' -chasin' the food into their mouths an' lookin' hunted-like, -as if there was somethin' after them, an' some -don't take time to go to the tables. They step up -to the lunch-counter, which is shaped jus' like a -moon when it ain't full. There's glass dishes on it, -with oranges, an' bananas, an' cakes an' pies, an' -sangwiches, an' a funny machine where you drop -a nickel in a crack, an' if the hand points to five, or -ten or fifteen, you get twenty-five cents' worth of -candy, an' if you don't get candy you get good -advice like as, 'You've been keepin' bad comp'ny, -quit it or you will never prosper,' or 'You've run<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> -away from home, an' the perlice is on your track,' -or 'Smokin is a bad thing for your health.'"</p> - -<p>Grampa was not very much interested, so 'Tilda -Jane tried something more startling.</p> - -<p>"There's great talk of railroad accidents there. -Men get killed awful. I heard a table-girl ask a -brakeman how he could go on a train for fear he'd -be hurt, an' he said he dassent stop to think, he had -to take chances. I used to see 'em runnin' like -cats on top o' them cars, slippery with snow an' ice. -If you're inside one o' them cars, grampa, an' there's -goin' to be a turnover, jus' grip hard on somethin' -steady, 'cause then you're not so apt to get killed. -I heard a conductor say that."</p> - -<p>Grampa's travelling days were over, yet it pleased -him to be talked to as if he were still a strong and -active man, and he said, shortly, "I'm not likely to -be going far from home."</p> - -<p>"You don't know, grampa," she said, soothingly. -"Some day when you get nice and well, I'd like to travel -with you, but first you must be very quiet like one of -Job's mice, an' not have anythin' gnawin' at you—I -guess you've had lots of plague times in your life."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p> - -<p>Grampa looked unheedingly beyond her to the -apple-trees.</p> - -<p>Her face was shrewd and puckered, and she was -surveying him like a cunning little cat.</p> - -<p>"Sometimes, grampa, I hear you fussin' in your -sleep—moanin' an' cryin' like a poor dog what's lost -her pups."</p> - -<p>The old man turned and looked at her sharply.</p> - -<p>She went on boldly, "Can I lie in my soft, -warm bed up-stairs an' you a-sufferin'? No, I -creepy, creepy down, to see if I can do anythin'."</p> - -<p>"Don't you do that again," said the old man, his -face becoming red. "You stay in your bed at -night."</p> - -<p>"All right, grampa," she said, meekly, "but I've -heard things already."</p> - -<p>"Things—what things?" he asked, sharply.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane folded together the apron she was -hemming, and getting up, opened a door of retreat -behind her into the house.</p> - -<p>"About losin' that money," she said, sadly. She -paused, and as he neither spoke or made any motion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> -to throw a crutch at her, she proceeded, "Grampa, -I jus' know it's like a little pain hawk pickin' at -your skin."</p> - -<p>Grampa was still silent, painfully so, and she -hurried on, "You haven't got much money, an' you -have me an' the dogs to take care of. Now, -grampa, won't you let me get some work to do -outside to help us?" and she screwed her features -into their most persuasive appearance.</p> - -<p>Grampa had his head turned away over his shoulder, -and when he after a long time twisted it around, -'Tilda Jane rose, and prudently and swiftly retired -into the hall.</p> - -<p>He must be in a rage. His face was fiery, and -he was making a choking, spluttering sound in his -throat,—a sound that only came from him in moments -of agitation.</p> - -<p>"Don't you—don't you," he stammered, "spy on -me again, and bother your young head about things -you know nothing of. Do you hear?" and he -accentuated his remarks by a tap of his crutch on -the door-step. "I've had a way all my life of talking -over things in my sleep. And you've got<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> -enough to do at home. I'll not have you working -for other people."</p> - -<p>"All right, grampa," said 'Tilda Jane, submissively, -and she made a step toward him. She had -planned to fly through the hall to his bedroom, and -remove his wash bowl and pitcher, for since she had -come to the cottage he had broken several in his -fits of rage.</p> - -<p>But grampa was not angry in a violent way this -time. "He's more bothered than mad," she murmured, -dispiritedly, and she drew aside to allow him -to pass by her into the house.</p> - -<p>"The dew's falling," he muttered, as he went by -her. "I'll go sit in the kitchen a spell."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane went mournfully to sit under the trees -on a wooden bench that grampa had had made for -her. The two dogs curled themselves up at her -feet, and with a sigh she picked up a writing pad -beside her. It was almost too dark to see the lines, -but she must finish a letter that she had begun to -write to Hank.</p> - -<p>His former custom had been to scratch a line to -his father once in six months to say he was alive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> -and well, but since 'Tilda Jane's arrival he had -written every week, and had addressed his letters -to her.</p> - -<p>It was a great pleasure to the little girl to get -these letters, and an equal pleasure to answer them. -She related to him every occurrence of her daily -life, all details of his father's conduct except disagreeable -ones, and her letters always ended with -an urgent request that he would come and visit -them.</p> - -<p>This evening she had as usual made an appeal at -the end of her letter. "Dear Mr. Hank, it seems a -long time sence the snow was on the ground. I -guess if you knew how much we want to see you -you'd come hurryin' home. The dogs send love, -Gippie specially 'cause he knows you. Poacher says -he'd be happy to make your acquaintance—and, -Mr. Hank, your father's kind of worried about -somethin'. I guess he'd like to see you."</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER XXIII.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">AN UNEXPECTED APPEARANCE.</span></h2> - - -<p>While 'Tilda Jane wrote, Poacher suddenly made -a stealthy movement, and Gippie, deaf as he was, -had enough of the dog spirit left in him to know -that some one was coming, and to elevate the tiny -V-shaped flaps over his ears.</p> - -<p>The gate clicked, there was a rustling along the -ribbon-grass bordering the narrow path, and then -'Tilda Jane's writing-pad fell to the ground, and she -sprang up with a delighted scream.</p> - -<p>For peering forward in the gathering gloom, she -discovered Hank, the long-absent Hank, moving -heavily and awkwardly up the path toward her.</p> - -<p>He had grown thin; his clothes hung loosely on -him, and he was pale and worried in appearance, but -'Tilda Jane did not criticise him. He was the -person who had most helped her in her search for -a home, and, springing toward him, she caught his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> -arm and ejaculated: "Oh, Hank! Mr. Hank—is -it truly you I'm pinchin', or is it a ghost?"</p> - -<p>He smiled faintly, and, in return, pinched her -cheek. "I ain't a ghost yet, though 'pon my word -I didn't know but what I'd soon be one." As -he spoke, he threw himself wearily on the seat. -"Well, 'Tilda, how does Ciscasset treat you? Coronation! -You're getting fat," and he scanned her -in satisfaction. "I wouldn't know you for the little -runaway that held me up last March out at -Marsden."</p> - -<p>"I guess I'm gettin' fat 'cause I'm peaceful in -my mind," said 'Tilda Jane, demurely; "I don't -have no one to fight. I'm jus' havin' the softest -time!"</p> - -<p>"So father really treats you well?"</p> - -<p>"Of course—don't I write you? He's jus' as -sweet as a peach. He lets me wash, an' scrub, an' -cook, an' never says a word excep' not to work too -hard, an' if he wants to be jus' a little bit cranky, -jus' a teeny little bit, he goes in his room an' shuts -the door till the bad spirit gets out of him."</p> - -<p>"Did he ever hurt you?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span></p> - -<p>"No, he never struck me—he usen't to like the -dogs."</p> - -<p>Hank had never been told of Poacher's adventure, -but his attention wandered to the dog, and he -absently stroked his head.</p> - -<p>"You've done the old man a lot of good," he said -at last.</p> - -<p>"I—no, sir," said 'Tilda Jane, earnestly. "I -guess it's the dogs. But he wants more good done -to him. He's in a regular slouch of despond sometimes, -Mr. Hank."</p> - -<p>"Is he?" said the young man, listlessly; "what's -he desponding about?"</p> - -<p>"About money, Mr. Hank. He lost some in -the street, and never got it back—then it costs -something to keep me and the dogs. I feel -dreadful about it. I try to eat jus' as little as -possible, but I'm as hungry as a bear mos' all the -time."</p> - -<p>Hank's attention was aroused. "You must not -stent yourself, sissy. This is too bad. I'm to -blame. I've been intending to send you some -money, but I've had a run of bad luck."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p> - -<p>His face was so disturbed that 'Tilda Jane made -haste to change the subject.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I'm so worked up to see you—I'm perfectly -'tossicated. I feel jus' like the teakettle -afore it boils, an' that 'minds me—I mus' go set it -on. <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: You mus' he">You mus' be</ins> starvin'."</p> - -<p>"No, I ain't hungry; I haven't had an appetite -for a week. How much did father lose?"</p> - -<p>"Sixty dollars," said the little girl, reluctantly.</p> - -<p>Hank relapsed into silence after this information. -He was evidently not inclined to talk, but 'Tilda -Jane was brimful of questions, and presently burst -out with one of them.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Hank, what did you do with that beauty -horse of yours?"</p> - -<p>"Had to sell it," he said, bitterly. "I've lost -everything I had. Those farmers are all against me. -Every potato top among them. I'm played out in -this State. They'd like to jail me if they could."</p> - -<p>"Jail you," said 'Tilda Jane, resentfully, "I guess -I'd come and pound at the door of the jail if they -did."</p> - -<p>"You ought to pound," said Hank, in an ungrate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span>ful -and ungallant tone, "'cause I ain't had a mite of -luck since you crossed my path."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane fell into blank astonishment for the -space of one minute, then she asked, wistfully, "Do -you mean that—did I truly bring you bad luck?"</p> - -<p>"You truly did," he said, peevishly. "I'm all -broken up in my business, cleaned out, done for."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane pushed the hair back from her forehead -with a bewildered gesture. Her benefactor -was in trouble—perhaps ruined, and through her. -But this was no time for reflection, the urgency -of the case demanded action.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Hank," she said, softly, "warn't it a -roguey kind of a business, anyway?"</p> - -<p>"All business is roguey," he said, gruffly.</p> - -<p>"I guess you don't mean that," she said, mildly. -"I know you don't mean that I've done you harm. -I guess you're jus' in trouble like the river in the -spring, when the ice goes mixy-maxy every way."</p> - -<p>He smiled slightly as he rose, and looked down -into the shrewd little face, "Well, ta, ta, 'Tilda—be -a good girl."</p> - -<p>"Where are you goin'?" she asked, helplessly.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Blest if I know—somewhere to earn a living, -to Canada, maybe."</p> - -<p>"Don't you go through Vanceboro," she said, -sharply, then she pressed her hands to her head. -"I think I'm crazy—are you Hank Dillson, -standin' there sayin' you're goin' to leave us like -this?"</p> - -<p>"Don't take on, 'Tilda," he said, consolingly. -"I'm real sorry. I wouldn't have come out of -my way this much if I hadn't promised you, and -if you hadn't been such a nice little girl. Of -course you haven't hurt me. I guess you've done -me good, for I've had a kind of disgust with my -business ever since you set foot in my life."</p> - -<p>She paid no attention to the latter part of his -speech. "You say you've got to go, an' I can't -keep you," she murmured, stupidly, "an' you don't -know where you're goin'."</p> - -<p>"I don't know, an' I don't want to know. I'll -loaf along till my money gives out, then I'll go to -work."</p> - -<p>"Hank, do you think of Orstralia?"</p> - -<p>"No, I ain't got dough enough to get that far."</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Do you mean bread?"</p> - -<p>"No, I mean cash."</p> - -<p>"Why don't you stay here?"</p> - -<p>"Nothing to do that I know of. This is a one-horse -place."</p> - -<p>"Hank, you ain't seen your father," she cried, -catching at his coat sleeve, as he turned toward -the gate.</p> - -<p>"'Pon my word, I forgot the old man. I believe -I'll go in for sixty seconds. You say his health's -better?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," said 'Tilda Jane, hurriedly, "I didn't -write you that he had a fit not long sence, and -it seemed to straighten him out. He goes to town -on his crutches every day, an' Gippie limps after -him—oh, Hank Dillson, Hank Dillson, I'm mos' -loony about this business of your goin' away."</p> - -<p>Hank smiled wearily at her, and went slowly -toward the house.</p> - -<p>"How long can you stay?" she asked, running -after him. "How long will you give us?"</p> - -<p>He took out his watch, and held it close to his -face. "I guess I'll take the eleven o'clock train.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> -It's nine now—I thought I'd look up some of the -boys."</p> - -<p>"Give us all the time," she said, pleadingly, "stay -with your father an' me. Oh, promise, will you?"</p> - -<p>"All right," he said, obligingly. "I don't care -if I do. I'm beat out, anyway."</p> - -<p>"I have to go some place, but I'll be back soon," -she called after him, then she threw up both hands -and pressed them over her ears,—a favourite gesture -with her when she was doing hard thinking.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Waysmith or Mr. Tracy," she repeated, -half aloud. "Mr. Waysmith or Mr. Tracy. Mr. -Tracy," she said, at last, "he's most likely," and -whirling on her heel, she flew down the path, out -the gate, and into the street.</p> - -<p>Poacher, silent, graceful, and swift, kept close to -her, but the battered Gippie soon gave up the -chase with a howl of protest, and went limping -home.</p> - -<p>Hank, to his surprise, had, on the whole, the -most agreeable talk of his life with his father. -The old man was altered. He had been, at the -same time, the stiffest and the most demonstrative<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> -of parents, the young man reflected. There really -was a remarkable change for the better in him, -and yet, at the end of three-quarters of an hour, -Hank got up to take his leave.</p> - -<p>They were nearly always absent from each other, -they had got out of the way of taking an active interest -in each other's concerns—there was not yet -sufficiently firm footing and enough of it to bridge -to the shaky background of the past, and parting -would be a mutual relief.</p> - -<p>Yet the old man's eyes twinkled wistfully as they -followed his son to the door. Hank had told him -nothing of his troubles, yet his father saw that he -had lost flesh, that he had not a prosperous air, and -he acutely guessed that all was not going well with -him. He would find out from the young girl, and -with a sigh he settled back in his chair.</p> - -<p>"I'll try to come home soon again, father," said -Hank, dispiritedly, as he looked over his shoulder -before closing the bedroom door, and he was just -shrugging his shoulders at the promise, when something -dark and panting caught at him in the unlighted -kitchen, and made him jump.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">CHAPTER XXIV.</a><br /> - -<span class="small">A FRIEND IN NEED.</span></h2> - - -<p>It was 'Tilda Jane, breathing like a race-horse.</p> - -<p>"What's up with you, sissy?" he asked.</p> - -<p>She could not speak for a few seconds, then she -gasped with difficulty, "Hank, dear old Hank, he's -in there—the loveliest man—he's always ready to -do a turn for any one—go in—tell him your business. -I've said a little, mind what he tells you, an' -you'll get on. He's helped lots of people. He was -in the midst of a dinner party. He's so good—he -jus' left it an' come. Go—" and she gave him a -gentle push and sent him into the parlour, where he -blinked his eyes alternately at the lamp on the table, -and at a small, dark, quiet man who sat with his hat -on his knee.</p> - -<p>The small man was breathing hard, as if he, too, -had been walking fast, but on seeing Hank, he rose -and stood with outstretched hand.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span></p> - -<p>"My name is Tracy," he said, kindly, "and I -have come to this town since you left it, but I -know your family."</p> - -<p>"I know you, too," said Hank, bluntly, "from -her letters," and he jerked his head backward, but -'Tilda Jane, after softly closing the door, had -disappeared.</p> - -<p>Mr. Tracy sat down again, and Hank sat opposite -him. A slight and awkward pause ensued, broken -speedily, however, by the minister.</p> - -<p>"Young man, you are in trouble."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I am that," said Hank, gruffly.</p> - -<p>"State your trouble," said the minister, kindly.</p> - -<p>Hank hesitated an instant, then his words came -with a rush. "You've visited creameries, sir?"</p> - -<p>"I have."</p> - -<p>"Well, there's good creameries and bad creameries. -A few years ago, when I was casting about -in my mind for something to do, I got in with a -Chicago firm known as the White Elephant firm—owing -to so many States being spotted with their -buildings, loaded on the farmers, and costing too -much to keep up. Being a Maine man, they sent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> -me to my own State. I was one of their most go-ahead -sharks, now they've fired me to fix themselves -right with the farmers. Do you know how they -take in a community, sir?"</p> - -<p>"No, I don't."</p> - -<p>"Well, s'pose you're a shark. You navigate -round among the farmers, and make a smother of -big talk about hauling in buckets full of money. -You get a committee to visit some creamery where -the outfit is salted to make an extra showing. You -pay the farmers' expenses, you offer 'em a block of -stock, and up goes the creamery in their district -with machinery from the promoting company, -costing two or three times over what everything -is worth. When the whole thing's up, it'll usually -dawn on the minds of your stockholders that -a creamery ain't much without cows, and their -cows ain't got enough milk to pay for the fuel -they burn. 'Way back here fifty miles, I had -whipped up a creamery; I had a man to run the -machinery, but he was a simpleton. He ruined -the separator, it had to be sent back to the shop, -an' I got mad with him.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Then he blabbed, told everything he knew, an' a -lot he didn't, an' the farmers stopped counting their -cows long enough to listen. Hasty words flew -round, about fraudulent subscriptions, vitiated transactions, -no contracts, ruined farms, going to law—an' -I thought it was time to skip. The firm had -made me stop there up to this, an' as soon as I -ran, they bounced me—I'm all played out here, -sir. My native State bids me farewell!"</p> - -<p>Hank suddenly ceased speaking, his head dropped -on his breast, yet before it did so, he shot one appealing, -hopeful glance at his listener. Despite -his "don't-care" tone, and off-hand manner, it was -plainly to be seen that he felt himself in trouble, and -knew that there was one at hand who would help -him.</p> - -<p>"You've been in a poor business," observed Mr. -Tracy, quietly. "You want to quit it?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, sir," said Hank, meekly.</p> - -<p>"Listen then—" and his companion in his turn -began to speak rapidly.</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane, flying about the house, sent many an -anxious thought to the closed parlour. What was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> -the minister saying to Hank? Would Hank talk -to him freely?</p> - -<p>"O Lord! Lord! Lord!" she cried, suddenly -stopping and raising her clasped hands to the ceiling, -"do make his heart soft—soft as mush, an' -don't let him be sassy. The minister is smooth an' -nice, an' he would stand sass, but it's awful bad for -Hank. He's got to sober down. O Lord, make -him solemn—jus' like an owl!"</p> - -<p>She dashed a tear from the corner of her eye, and -went on with her occupation of wrapping various -articles in a red handkerchief.</p> - -<p>When the parlour door opened, she ran to the -front hall, and as Mr. Tracy passed her, she caught -his hand and pressed it fervently.</p> - -<p>He said nothing, but smiling with the more than -earthly sweetness of one who truly loved his fellow -men, he hurried back to his deserted guests.</p> - -<p>Hank followed close at his heels, and as he stood -in the hall doorway, looking already straighter and -taller, he smiled patronisingly down at 'Tilda Jane.</p> - -<p>"You're a mighty fine girl, sissy, how old are you -now?"</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span></p> - -<p>"Thirteen o'clock las' week—struck fourteen this—oh, -what did the minister say?"</p> - -<p>Hank thumped his chest. "He's got me a situation, -sissy,—a situation that means bread and butter -for you and father, and maybe cake and jam."</p> - -<p>The little girl locked her hands in intense excitement. -"Where, Hank, oh, where?"</p> - -<p>"Here, sissy."</p> - -<p>"In Ciscasset?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane suppressed a scream. "An' you can -live at home?"</p> - -<p>"Well, I rather guess so."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane's pleasure was too deep for words. -She stood gaping speechlessly at him.</p> - -<p>Hank, in high good humour, beamed benevolently -on the orphan girl as she stood beside him. "What -are you sticking your head up an down for like a -chicken taking a drink?" he said at last.</p> - -<p>"Hank, I'm givin' thanks," she said, reverently, -"givin' thanks that you've got led out of that roguey -business."</p> - -<p>"I'll not get into anything of that kind again,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> -sissy," he said, with a shamefaced air. "You may -just be sure of that. I've had a great talk with that -friend of yours—and sissy, I'm obliged to you."</p> - -<p>There was a queer break in his voice. An end -had suddenly come to his troubles. He would now -be in the way of earning an honest living. And it -would be a pleasure to live with his father and this -young girl who would look up to him and admire -him.</p> - -<p>"Sissy," he said, abruptly, "where do you think -my new berth is?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know—oh, tell me quick."</p> - -<p>"In the Waysmith lumber mill. Mr. Waysmith -offered a place to your friend Tracy to-day for some -young man, and I'm the young man."</p> - -<p>"With the Waysmiths?" murmured 'Tilda Jane, -"where your father used to be?"</p> - -<p>"The same, sissy."</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane could stand no more. "O Lord, I -thank thee!" she cried, with a burst of tears, and -running into the kitchen, she buried her face in the -roller towel hanging on a door.</p> - -<p>Hank sauntered after her, and on his way stumbled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> -over a bundle done up in a spotted red handkerchief. -He stooped down, picked it up, and opened it. It -contained a few lumps of sugar, a Bible, a pair of -socks, two handkerchiefs, half a loaf of cake, and -fifty cents wrapped in a piece of newspaper.</p> - -<p>"My travelling kit," he murmured; "well, if she -ain't the best little creature!"</p> - -<p>"Hello, 'Tilda!" he called out; "stop that -whimpering, and come and tell grampa the news."</p> - -<p>The little girl hastily dried her face on the towel, -and ran into the bedroom where grampa sat surveying -them in bewilderment from the edge of his -bed. Some time ago he had come to his room with -the intention of undressing. His son's visit had -upset him, and he had been sitting confusedly listening -to the scraps of conversation he caught from -different parts of the house.</p> - -<p>"Grampa, grampa!" cried 'Tilda Jane, running -in, and excitedly waving her hands, "Hank's goin' -to live at home with you, an' me, an' the dogs. -We'll be a real family. Oh, ain't it lovely, ain't it -lovely?" and catching hold of her skirts she began -a sidling and peculiar dance about the room.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span></p> - -<p>Hank laughed till the tears came into his eyes. -'Tilda Jane was good, but she was not graceful. -Then his merriment over, he began to yawn, and -'Tilda Jane, as keen of observation as ever, immediately -espied this sign of fatigue.</p> - -<p>She caught up Gippie, who alone showed no pleasure -at the prospect of having another inmate of -the house, and danced out to the kitchen.</p> - -<p>"Come out, grampa dear," she called, "we'll -all have a good supper, 'cause this is a most joyful -'casion."</p> - -<p>As grampa started to limp out to the kitchen, -Hank quietly placed himself by his side.</p> - -<p>The old man looked at him. "I'm not sorry -you're going to stay," he remarked, gruffly. "They -say there's no place like home."</p> - -<p>"You'd better believe that's true, father," said -Hank, warmly; "a fellow gets sick of hotels and -boarding-houses. We'll have some more funds now -that I'm going to get at some decent kind of work. -You mustn't bother your head about expenses."</p> - -<p>The old man sank into his chair with a sigh of -relief. His face was working strangely. Last year<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> -at this time he was alone and miserable in a cheerless -house. Now his son was with him, a brisk -young girl was flying about his kitchen, a bright fire -burned in the stove, a fire that was not unpleasantly -warm to his aged limbs even on this summer night. -A white cloth covered his formerly bare and uninviting -table; he was going to have pie, and coffee, -and toast and cake for supper,—surely the coming -of this orphan had been a fortunate thing for him, -and he slowly chafed his hands as he gazed at the -glowing bed of coals.</p> - -<p>Hank was following 'Tilda Jane from kitchen to -pantry, and from pantry to kitchen.</p> - -<p>"You're getting to be a great housekeeper," he -said, admiringly; "but we must not forget the -schooling. It's a great thing to be educated. You -can't hold your own in this world unless you know -something. You wrote me Mrs. Tracy was teaching -you some, didn't you?"</p> - -<p>'Tilda Jane paused as she filled a sugar-bowl.</p> - -<p>"Yes, three evenin's a week. She's a boss—I -mean a good teacher. I learned some at the 'sylum,—no, -the asylum, when I warn't—no, when I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> -werent'—no, when I wasn't in the kitchen. And -grampa talks to me some. He's a fine scholar."</p> - -<p>"That's good—get all you can; but three evenings -a week ain't enough. As soon as I can compass -it, I'll have some one to take care of father -daytimes, and let you go to school."</p> - -<p>"To school!" said the little girl, "to learn more—to -know how to speak proper! Oh, oh, I'm mos' -too happy to live! Hank Dillson, I think you're -the mos' beautiful man that was ever made!" and, -dropping her sugar-bowl on the shelf, she seized a -hand of the ex-creamery shark, and warmly pressed -it between her little lean palms.</p> - -<p>Hank, in some embarrassment, murmured, "Oh, -fudge, I'm not as good as the next one."</p> - -<p>"You're a million times better!" exclaimed 'Tilda -Jane. "Oh, what a glad man Mr. Waysmith will -be to have you in his mill! Come now, let's have -supper. Dear ole grampa mus' get to bed. You -wouldn't like to kill him with joy the first night -you're home."</p> - -<p>A few minutes later 'Tilda Jane was beaming -behind the big coffee-pot. At last she had become<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> -a member of a really happy family. Her dogs were -stretched luxuriously on their rag mat by the stove, -Grampa, calm and quiet, was sipping his coffee, and -listening to some of Hank's travelling adventures.</p> - -<p>She could not contain her delight. Her heart -was too full, and presently she burst into low, irrepressible -laughter.</p> - -<p>Her companions stopped talking and stared at -her.</p> - -<p>"Oh, I can't help it!" she exclaimed, wildly, -"I feel as if I'd come through a big sea of troubles -to reach the promised land! I'm crazy—I'm -crazy!" and too excited to keep still she pushed -her chair aside, and rocked back and forth on her -feet.</p> - -<p>She saw stretching before her a long vista of -happy years—the sight was almost too much for -her, yet even in her ecstasy she thought of other -children less fortunate.</p> - -<p>"Hank, brother Hank!" she called suddenly, -"the Tracys say to pass on blessings. All the -world ain't joyful like us. When you make a little -money will you let me write to the lady-boards for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> -another orphan,—the ugliest little orphan they've -got,—worse than me, if it's not unpossible."</p> - -<p>"You just write it down that I will," said Hank, -gazing kindly and benevolently at her flushed face.</p> - -<p>"We'll do it," cried 'Tilda Jane. "We'll be -good to that other orphan. I know they'll have -one, but how can I wait? What shall I do? I -mus' hug some one, I'm so happy!"</p> - -<p>She flashed a glance at the dogs. They were -sleepy and comfortable. "Grampa, I guess it'll -have to be you," she said, gaily, and, running to the -old man, she threw her arms around his wrinkled -neck, kissed his bald head, and fulfilled her promise -of a hugging so vigorously that at last he called for -mercy.</p> - -<p>"Now, I'll go take something," she said, demurely, -and, with a last caress, "you darlin' ole -grampa—I could eat you—Lord, give me a thankful -heart for all these mercies," then, reverently -bending her head over her plate, she took up her -knife and fork with a long and happy sigh.</p> - - -<p class="p2 pfs90">THE END.</p> - - -<p class="p4" /> -<div><a name="PBC" id="PBC"></a></div> -<hr class="fulla pg-brk" /> -<hr class="fulla" /> - -<p class="p2 pfs135"><span class="smcap">L. C. Page & Company's</span><br /> -Cosy Corner Series<br /> -<span class="xs">OF</span><br /> -Charming Juveniles</p> - -<div class="figcenterx"> -<img src="images/sep1x.jpg" width="20" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="pfs80">Each one volume, 16mo, cloth, Illustrated, 50 cents</p> - -<div class="figcenterx"> -<img src="images/sep1x.jpg" width="20" alt="" /> -</div> - - -<div class="advert"> - -<p><b>Ole Mammy's Torment.</b> By <span class="smcap">Annie Fellows-Johnston</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Author of "The Little Colonel," etc.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Little Colonel.</b> By <span class="smcap">Annie Fellows-Johnston</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Author of "Big Brother."</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Big Brother.</b> By <span class="smcap">Annie Fellows-Johnston</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Author of "The Little Colonel," etc.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Gate of the Giant Scissors.</b> By <span class="smcap">Annie Fellows-Johnston</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Author of "The Little Colonel," etc.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Two Little Knights of Kentucky,</b> who were "The Little -Colonel's" neighbors. By <span class="smcap">Annie Fellows-Johnston</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">A sequel to "The Little Colonel."</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Story of Dago.</b> By <span class="smcap">Annie Fellows-Johnston</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Author of "The Little Colonel," etc.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Farmer Brown and the Birds.</b> By <span class="smcap">Frances Margaret -Fox</span>. A little story which teaches children that the birds -are man's best friends.</p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Story of a Short Life.</b> By <span class="smcap">Juliana Horatia Ewing</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">This beautiful and pathetic story is a part of the world's -literature and will never die.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Jackanapes.</b> By <span class="smcap">Juliana Horatia Ewing</span>.</p> - -<p>A new edition, with new illustrations, of this exquisite and -touching story, dear alike to young and old.</p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Little Lame Prince.</b> By <span class="smcap">Miss Mulock</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">A delightful story of a little boy who has many adventures -by means of the magic gifts of his fairy godmother.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Adventures of a Brownie.</b> By <span class="smcap">Miss Mulock</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">The story of a household elf who torments the cook and -gardener, but is a constant joy and delight to the children.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>His Little Mother.</b> By <span class="smcap">Miss Mulock</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Miss Mulock's short stories for children are a constant -source of delight to them, and "His Little Mother," in -this new and attractive dress, will be welcomed by hosts -of readers.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Little Sunshine's Holiday.</b> By <span class="smcap">Miss Mulock</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">"Little Sunshine" is another of those beautiful child-characters -for which Miss Mulock is so justly famous.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Wee Dorothy.</b> By <span class="smcap">Laura Updegraff</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">A story of two orphan children, the tender devotion of the -eldest, a boy, for his sister being its theme.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Rab and His Friends.</b> By Dr. <span class="smcap">John Brown</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Doctor Brown's little masterpiece is too well known to -need description.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Water People.</b> By <span class="smcap">Charles Lee Sleight</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Relating the further adventures of "Harry," the little hero -of "The Prince of the Pin Elves."</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Prince of the Pin Elves.</b> By <span class="smcap">Chas. Lee Sleight</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">A fascinating story of the underground adventures of a -sturdy, reliant American boy among the elves and -gnomes.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Helena's Wonderworld.</b> By <span class="smcap">Frances Hodges White</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">A delightful tale of the adventures of a little girl in the -mysterious regions beneath the sea.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>For His Country.</b> By <span class="smcap">Marshall Saunders</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">A beautiful story of a patriotic little American lad.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>A Little Puritan's First Christmas.</b> By <span class="smcap">Edith Robinson</span>.</p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>A Little Daughter of Liberty.</b> By <span class="smcap">Edith Robinson</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Author of "A Loyal Little Maid," "A Little Puritan -Rebel," etc.</span></p> - -<p><span class="negin1">A true story of the Revolution.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>A Little Puritan Rebel.</b> By <span class="smcap">Edith Robinson</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">An historical tale of a real girl, during the time when the -gallant Sir Harry Vane was governor of Massachusetts.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>A Loyal Little Maid.</b> By <span class="smcap">Edith Robinson</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary days, -in which the child heroine, Betsey Schuyler, renders important -services to George Washington and Alexander -Hamilton.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>A Dog of Flanders.</b> <span class="smcap">A Christmas Story.</span> By <span class="smcap">Louise -de la Ramée</span> (Ouida).</p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Nurnberg Stove.</b> By <span class="smcap">Louise de la Ramée</span> (Ouida).</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">This beautiful story has never before been published at a -popular price.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The King of the Golden River.</b> <span class="smcap">A Legend of Stiria</span>. -By <span class="smcap">John Ruskin</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Written fifty years or more ago, this little fairy tale soon -became known and made a place for itself.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>La Belle Nivernaise.</b> <span class="smcap">The Story of An Old Boat and -Her Crew.</span> By <span class="smcap">Alphonse Daudet</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">It has been out of print for some time, and is now offered -in cheap but dainty form in this new edition.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Young King.</b> <b>The Star Child.</b></p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Two stories chosen from a recent volume by a gifted -author, on account of their rare beauty, great power, -and deep significance.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>A Great Emergency.</b> By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Ewing</span>.</p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Trinity Flower.</b> By <span class="smcap">Juliana Horatia Ewing</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">In this little volume are collected three of Mrs. Ewing's -best short stories for the young people.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Adventures of Beatrice and Jessie.</b> By <span class="smcap">Richard -Mansfield</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">A bright and amusing story of the strange adventures of -two little girls in the "realms of unreality."</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>A Child's Garden of Verses.</b> By <span class="smcap">R. L. Stevenson</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">This little classic is undoubtedly the best of all volumes of -poetry for children.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Little King Davie.</b> By <span class="smcap">Nellie Hellis</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">It is sufficient to say of this book that it has sold over -110,000 copies in England, and consequently should well -be worthy of a place in "The Cosy Corner Series."</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Little Peterkin Vandike.</b> By <span class="smcap">Charles Stuart Pratt</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">The author's dedication furnishes a key to this charming -story.</span></p> - -<p><span class="negin1">"I dedicate this book, made for the amusement of the -boys who may read it, to the memory of one boy, who -would have enjoyed as much as Peterkin the plays of -the Poetry Party."</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Making of Zimri Bunker.</b> <span class="smcap">A Tale of Nantucket.</span> -By <span class="smcap">W. J. Long</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">The story deals with a sturdy American fisher lad during -the war of 1812.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Fortunes of the Fellow.</b> By <span class="smcap">Will Allen Dromgoole</span>. -A sequel to "The Farrier's Dog and His -Fellow."</p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Farrier's Dog and His Fellow.</b> By <span class="smcap">Will Allen -Dromgoole</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">This story, written by the gifted young Southern woman, -will appeal to all that is best in the natures of her many -admirers.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Sleeping Beauty.</b> <span class="smcap">A Modern Version.</span> By <span class="smcap">Martha -B. Dunn</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">A charming story of a little fishermaid of Maine, intellectually -"asleep," until she meets the "Fairy Prince."</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Young Archer.</b> By <span class="smcap">Charles E. Brimblecom</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">A strong and wholesome story of a boy who accompanied -Columbus on his voyage to the New World.</span></p> -</div> - - -<div class="advert-box"> - -<div class="p4 pg-brk"></div> -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="pfs90">NEW JUVENILES</p> -</div> - -<div class="bbox2a"> -<p class="pfs240">Our Devoted Friend<br /> -the Dog</p> - -<p class="pfs120 smcap">By SARAH K. BOLTON</p> - -<p class="pfs80 wsp">AUTHOR OF "GIRLS WHO HAVE BECOME FAMOUS," ETC.</p> - -<p class="pfs100"><em>Fully illustrated with many reproductions from original -photographs.</em></p> - -<p class="pfs100">1 vol., small quarto, $1.50</p> - -<div class="figcenterx"> -<img src="images/sep2.jpg" width="25" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>This book of the dog and his friends does for the -canine member of the household what Helen M. Winslow's -book, "Concerning Cats," did for the feline. -No one who cares for dogs—and that class includes -nearly all who do not care for cats, and some who do—will -admit that the subject of Mrs. Bolton's book is a less -felicitous choice than that of its predecessor; while the -author's well-known ability as a writer and lecturer, as -well as her sympathy with her subject, are a sufficient -guarantee of a happy treatment.</p> -</div> - -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="pfs90">SEND FOR CIRCULARS, ETC.</p> -</div> - - -<div class="p4 pg-brk"></div> -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="pfs90">NEW JUVENILES</p> -</div> - -<div class="bbox2a"> -<p class="pfs150 lsp">THE</p> - -<p class="pfs240">Rosamond Tales</p> - -<p class="pfs120 smcap">By CUYLER REYNOLDS</p> - -<p><em>With many full-page illustrations from original photographs -by the author, together with a frontispiece from a -drawing by Maud Humphreys.</em></p> - -<p class="pfs100">Large 12mo, cloth, $1.50</p> - -<div class="figcenterx"> -<img src="images/sep2.jpg" width="25" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>These are just the bedtime stories that children always -ask for, but do not always get. Rosamond and Rosalind -are the hero and heroine of many happy adventures in -town and on their grandfather's farm; and the happy -listeners to their story will unconsciously absorb a vast -amount of interesting knowledge of birds, animals, and -flowers, just the things about which the curiosity of -children from four to twelve years old is most insatiable. -The book will be a boon to tired mothers, as a delight to -wide-awake children.</p> -</div> - -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="pfs90">SEND FOR CIRCULARS, ETC.</p> -</div> - - -<div class="p4 pg-brk"></div> -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="pfs90">NEW JUVENILES</p> -</div> - -<div class="bbox2a"> -<p class="pfs150 lsp">THE</p> - -<p class="pfs240">Little Cousin Series</p> - -<p class="pfs120 smcap">By MARY F. WADE</p> - -<p class="pfs100">Four volumes, each illustrated, cloth, 12mo, 60 cents</p> - -<p class="pfs120"> -<span class="smcap">Volume I.</span><br /> -<span class="xl">Our Little Japanese Cousin</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Volume II.</span><br /> -<span class="xl">Our Little Brown Cousin</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Volume III.</span><br /> -<span class="xl">Our Little Indian Cousin</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Volume IV.</span><br /> -<span class="xl">Our Little Russian Cousin</span></p> - -<div class="figcenterx"> -<img src="images/sep2.jpg" width="25" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>These are the most interesting and delightful accounts -possible of child-life in other lands, filled with quaint -sayings, doings and adventures. The "Little Japanese -Cousin," with her toys in her wide sleeve and her tiny -bag of paper handkerchiefs; the "Little Brown Cousin," -in whose home the leaves of the breadfruit-tree serve for -plates and the halves of the cocoanut shells for cups; the -"Little Indian Cousin," who lives the free life of the -forest, and the "Little Russian Cousin," who dwells by -the wintry Neva, are truly fascinating characters to the -little cousins who will read about them.</p> -</div> - -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="pfs90">SEND FOR CIRCULARS, ETC.</p> -</div> - - -<div class="p4 pg-brk"></div> -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="pfs90">NEW JUVENILES</p> -</div> - -<div class="bbox2a"> -<p class="pfs150 lsp">THE</p> - -<p class="pfs240">Cosy Corner Series</p> - -<p class="pfs80 wsp">A SERIES OF CHARMING ILLUSTRATED -JUVENILES BY WELL-KNOWN AUTHORS</p> - -<p>We shall issue ten new volumes in this well-known -series of child classics, and announce three as follows:</p> - -<p class="pfs180">A Little Puritan Pioneer</p> - -<p class="pfs120 smcap">By EDITH ROBINSON</p> - -<p>Author of "A Loyal Little Maid," "A Little Puritan's -First Christmas," etc.</p> - -<p class="pfs180">Madam Liberality</p> - -<p class="pfs120 smcap">By MRS. EWING</p> - -<p>Author of "Jackanapes," "A Great Emergency," -"Story of a Short Life," etc., etc.</p> - -<p class="pfs180">A Bad Penny</p> - -<p class="pfs120 smcap">By JOHN T. WHEELWRIGHT</p> - -<p>The other seven will include new stories by Louise -de la Ramée, Miss Mulock, Nellie Hellis, Will Allen -Dromgoole, etc., etc.</p> - -<p class="pfs100"><em>Forty-four volumes previously published</em></p> - -</div> - -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="pfs90">SEND FOR CIRCULARS, ETC.</p> -</div> - -</div> - - -<p class="p4 pfs135 pg-brk">Selections from<br /> - -<span class="smcap">L. C. Page & Company's</span><br /> - -Books for Young People</p> - -<div class="figcenterx"> -<img src="images/sep1.jpg" width="20" alt="" /> -</div> - - -<div class="advert"> - -<p><b>Old Father Gander:</b> <span class="smcap">or, The Better-Half of Mother -Goose</span>. <span class="smcap">Rhymes, Chimes, and Jingles</span> scratched from -his own goose-quill for American Goslings. Illustrated -with impossible Geese, hatched and raised by <span class="smcap">Walter -Scott Howard</span>.</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="100%" summary=""> -<tr><td class="tdl pad2 wd90">1 vol., oblong quarto, cloth decorative</td><td class="tdr wd20">$2.00</td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="negin1">The illustrations are so striking and fascinating that the -book will appeal to the young people aside from the fact -even of the charm and humor of the songs and rhymes. -There are thirty-two full-page plates, of which many are -in color. The color illustrations are a distinct and successful -departure from the old-fashioned lithographic -work hitherto invariably used for children's books.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Crock of Gold:</b> <span class="smcap">A New Book of Fairy Tales</span>. -By <span class="smcap">S. Baring Gould</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Author of "Mehalah," "Old Country Life," "Old English -Fairy Tales," etc. With twenty-five full-page illustrations -by F. D. Bedford.</span></p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="100%" summary=""> -<tr><td class="tdl pad2 wd90">1 vol., tall 12mo, cloth decorative, gilt top</td><td class="tdr">$1.50</td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="negin1">This volume will prove a source of delight to the children -of two continents, answering their always increasing demand -for "more fairy stories."</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Shireen and Her Friends:</b> <span class="smcap">The Autobiography of a -Persian Cat</span>. By <span class="smcap">Gordon Stables</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Illustrated by Harrison Weir.</span></p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="100%" summary=""> -<tr><td class="tdl pad2 wd90">1 vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative</td><td class="tdr">$1.25</td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="negin1">A more charming book about animals Dr. Stables himself -has not written. It is similar in character to "Black -Beauty," "Beautiful Joe," and other books which teach -us to love and protect the dumb animals.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Bully, Fag, and Hero.</b> By <span class="smcap">Charles J. Mansford</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">With six full-page illustrations by S. H. Vedder.</span></p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="100%" summary=""> -<tr><td class="tdl pad2 wd90">1 vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative, gilt top</td><td class="tdr">$1.50</td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="negin1">An interesting story of schoolboy life and adventure in -school and during the holidays.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Adventures of a Boy Reporter</b> <span class="smcap">in the Philippines</span>. -By <span class="smcap">Harry Steele Morrison</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Author of "A Yankee Boy's Success."</span></p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="100%" summary=""> -<tr><td class="tdl pad2 wd90">1 vol., large 12mo, cloth, illustrated</td><td class="tdr">$1.25</td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="negin1">A true story of the courage and enterprise of an American -lad. It is a splendid boys' book, filled with healthy interest, -and will tend to stimulate and encourage the proper -ambition of the young reader.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Tales Told in the Zoo.</b> By <span class="smcap">F. C. Gould</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">With many illustrations from original drawings.</span></p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="100%" summary=""> -<tr><td class="tdl pad2 wd90">1 vol., large quarto</td><td class="tdr">$2.00</td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="negin1">A new book for young people on entirely original lines.</span></p> - -<p><span class="negin1">The tales are supposed to be told by an old adjutant stork -in the Zoological Gardens to the assembled birds located -there, and they deal with legendary and folk-lore stories -of the origins of various creatures, mostly birds, and -their characteristics.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Philip:</b> <span class="smcap">The Story of a Boy Violinist</span>. By T. W. O.</p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="100%" summary=""> -<tr><td class="tdl pad2 wd90">1 vol., 12mo, cloth</td><td class="tdr">$1.00</td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="negin1">The life-story of a boy, reared among surroundings singular -enough to awaken interest at the start, is described by -the present author as it could be described only by one -thoroughly familiar with the scene. The reader is carried -from the cottages of the humblest coal-miners into the -realms of music and art; and the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">finale</i> of this charming -tale is a masterpiece of pathetic interest.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Black Beauty:</b> <span class="smcap">The Autobiography of a Horse</span>. By -<span class="smcap">Anna Sewell</span>. <em>New Illustrated Edition.</em></p> - -<p><span class="negin1">With twenty-five full-page drawings by Winifred Austin.</span></p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="100%" summary=""> -<tr><td class="tdl pad2 wd90">1 vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative, gilt top</td><td class="tdr">$1.25</td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="negin1">There have been many editions of this classic, but we confidently -offer this one as the most appropriate and handsome -yet produced. The illustrations are of special -value and beauty, and should make this the standard -edition wherever illustrations worthy of the story are -desired.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Voyage of the Avenger:</b> <span class="smcap">In the Days of the -Dashing Drake</span>. By <span class="smcap">Henry St. John</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Author of "A Middy of Nelson's Day," etc. With twenty-five -full-page illustrations by Paul Hardy.</span></p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="100%" summary=""> -<tr><td class="tdl pad2 wd90">1 vol., tall 12mo, cloth decorative, gilt top, 400 pages</td><td class="tdr">$1.50</td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="negin1">A book of adventure, the scene of which is laid in that -stirring period of colonial extension when England's -famous naval heroes encountered the ships of Spain, -both at home and in the West Indies. Mr. St. John -has given his boy readers a rattling good story of the -sea. There is plenty of adventure, sufficient in fact to -keep a boy fixed near the fireside until the last page is -reached.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>A Child's History of Spain.</b> By <span class="smcap">Leonard Williams</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Author of "Ballads and Songs of Spain," etc.</span></p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="100%" summary=""> -<tr><td class="tdl pad2 wd90">1 vol., small 12mo, with frontispiece, cloth, gilt top</td><td class="tdr">$0.75</td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="negin1">Although the recent war with Spain has aroused general -interest and caused a great demand for literature relating -to the subject, there has not as yet been published a condensed -history of Spain for young people. Mr. Williams's -little book will prove a desirable addition to the children's -historical library.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Fairy Folk from Far and Near.</b> By <span class="smcap">A. C. Woolf</span>, M. A.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">With numerous full-page color illustrations by Hans Reitz.</span></p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="100%" summary=""> -<tr><td class="tdl pad2 wd90">1 vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative</td><td class="tdr">$1.50</td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="negin1">It is long since there has appeared such a thoroughly delightful -volume of fairy tales as that of Annie C. Woolf. -An added attraction to the book is found in the exquisite -colored illustrations, the work of Hans Reitz. As a -Christmas gift-book to children, these tales will be hard -to excel.</span></p> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Magnet Stories.</b> By <span class="smcap">Lynde Palmer</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">A new edition; new binding and larger size volume, 5 vols., -12mo. Reduced price.</span></p> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" width="100%" summary=""> -<tr><td class="tdl wd90">Drifting and Steering</td><td class="tdr">$1.00</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">One Day's Weaving</td><td class="tdr">1.00</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Archie's Shadow</td><td class="tdr">1.00</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">John-Jack</td><td class="tdr">1.00</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Jeannette's Cisterns</td><td class="tdr">1.00</td></tr> -</table> - -</div> - - -<div class="advert-box"> - -<div class="p4 pg-brk"></div> -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="pfs90">NEW JUVENILES</p> -</div> - -<div class="bbox2a"> -<p class="pfs150 lsp">THE</p> - -<p class="pfs240">Woodranger Tales</p> - -<div class="p1"></div> -<p class="pfs120 smcap">Volume III.</p> - -<p class="pfs180">The Hero of the Hills</p> - -<p class="pfs120 smcap">By G. WALDO BROWNE</p> - -<div class="p1"></div> -<p class="pfs120 smcap">Volume I.</p> - -<p class="pfs180">The Woodranger</p> - -<p class="pfs120 smcap">By G. WALDO BROWNE</p> - -<div class="p1"></div> -<p class="pfs120 smcap">Volume II.</p> - -<p class="pfs180">The Young Gunbearer</p> -<p class="pfs120 smcap">By G. WALDO BROWNE</p> - -<p class="pfs100">Each large 12mo, cloth, fully illustrated, $1.00</p> - -<div class="figcenterx"> -<img src="images/sep2.jpg" width="25" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>There is the reality of history behind these stories, -the successful series of "Woodranger Tales," the scope -and trend of which are accurately set forth in the title. -While full of adventure, the interest in which sometimes -rises to the pitch of excitement, the stories are not sensational, -for Mr. Browne writes with dignity, if with liveliness. -The books will not fail to interest any lively, -wholesome-minded boy.</p> -</div> - -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="pfs90">SEND FOR CIRCULARS, ETC.</p> -</div> - - -<div class="p4 pg-brk"></div> -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="pfs90">NEW JUVENILES</p> -</div> - -<div class="bbox2a"> -<p class="pfs240 lsp">Prince Harold</p> - -<p class="pfs80">A FAIRY STORY</p> -<br /> -<p class="pfs120 smcap">By L. F. BROWN</p> -<br /> -<p class="pfs100"><em>With ninety full-page illustrations</em></p> -<br /> -<p class="pfs100">Large 12mo, cloth, $1.50</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/sep2.jpg" width="25" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>A delightful fairy tale for children, dealing with the -life of a charming young Prince, who, aided by the Moon -Spirit, discovers, after many adventures, a beautiful girl -whom he makes his Princess. He is so enamored that -he dwells with his bride in complete seclusion for a -while, entrusting the conduct of his kingdom meantime -to his monkey servant, Longtail. The latter marries -a monkey princess from Amfalulu, and their joint reign is -described with the drollest humor. The real rulers -finally return and upset the reign of the pretenders. An -original and fascinating story for young people.</p> -</div> - -<div class="bbox2"> -<p class="pfs90">SEND FOR CIRCULARS, ETC.</p> -</div> - -</div> - - - - -<p class="p2 pfs135 pg-brk"><span class="smcap">L. C. Page & Company's</span><br /> -Gift Book Series<br /> -<span class="xs">FOR</span><br /> -Boys and Girls</p> - -<div class="figcenterx"> -<img src="images/sep1.jpg" width="20" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="pfs80">Each one volume, tall 12mo, cloth, Illustrated, $1.00</p> - -<div class="figcenterx"> -<img src="images/sep1.jpg" width="20" alt="" /> -</div> - - -<div class="advert"> - -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Little Colonel's House Party.</b> By <span class="smcap">Annie Fellows-Johnston</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Author of "Little Colonel," etc. Illustrated by E. B. Barry.</span></p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Mrs. Johnston has endeared herself to the children by her -charming little books published in the Cosy Corner -Series. Accordingly, a longer story by her will be -eagerly welcomed by the little ones who have so much -enjoyed each story from her pen.</span></p> -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Chums.</b> By <span class="smcap">Maria Louise Pool</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Author of "Little Bermuda," etc. Illustrated by L. J. -Bridgman.</span></p> - -<p><span class="negin1">"Chums" is a girls' book, about girls and for girls. It relates -the adventures, in school, and during vacation, of -two friends.</span></p> -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Three Little Crackers.</b> <span class="smcap">From Down in Dixie</span>. By <span class="smcap">Will -Allen Dromgoole</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Author of "The Farrier's Dog." A fascinating story for -boys and girls, of the adventures of a family of Alabama -children who move to Florida and grow up in the South.</span></p> -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Miss Gray's Girls:</b> <span class="smcap">or, Summer Days in the Scottish -Highlands</span>. By <span class="smcap">Jeannette A. Grant</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">A delightfully told story of a summer trip through Scotland, -somewhat out of the beaten track. A teacher, -starting at Glasgow, takes a lively party of girls, her -pupils, through the Trossachs to Oban, through the -Caledonian Canal to Inverness, and as far north as -Brora.</span></p> -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>King Pippin:</b> <span class="smcap">A Story for Children</span>. By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Gerard -Ford</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Author of "Pixie."</span></p> - -<p><span class="negin1">One of the most charming books for young folks which -has been issued for some time. The hero is a lovable -little fellow, whose frank and winning ways disarm even -the crustiest of grandmothers, and win for him the affection -of all manner of unlikely people.</span></p> -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Feats on the Fiord:</b> <span class="smcap">A Tale of Norwegian Life</span>. By -<span class="smcap">Harriet Martineau</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">This admirable book, read and enjoyed by so many young -people, deserves to be brought to the attention of parents -in search of wholesome reading for their children to-day. -It is something more than a juvenile book, being really -one of the most instructive books about Norway and -Norwegian life and manners ever written.</span></p> -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Songs and Rhymes for the Little Ones.</b> Compiled by <span class="smcap">Mary -Whitney Morrison</span> (Jenny Wallis).</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">New edition, with an introduction by Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney.</span></p> - -<p><span class="negin1">No better description of this admirable book can be given -than Mrs. Whitney's happy introduction:</span></p> - -<p><span class="negin1">"One might almost as well offer June roses with the assurance -of their sweetness, as to present this lovely little -gathering of verse, which announces itself, like them, by -its own deliciousness. Yet, as Mrs. Morrison's charming -volume has long been a delight to me, I am only too -happy to declare that it is to me—and to two families -of my grandchildren—the most bewitching book of -songs for little people that we have ever known."</span></p> -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Young Pearl Divers:</b> <span class="smcap">A Story of Australian Adventure -by Land and by Sea</span>. By <span class="smcap">Lieut. H. -Phelps Whitmarsh</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">This is a splendid story for boys, by an author who writes -in vigorous and interesting language, of scenes and adventures -with which he is personally acquainted.</span></p> -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Woodranger.</b> By <span class="smcap">G. Waldo Browne</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">The first of a series of five volumes entitled "The Woodranger -Tales."</span></p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Although based strictly on historical facts the book is an -interesting and exciting tale of adventure, which will -delight all boys, and be by no means unwelcome to their -elders.</span></p> -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Three Children of Galilee:</b> <span class="smcap">A Life of Christ for the -Young</span>. By <span class="smcap">John Gordon</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">There has long been a need for a Life of Christ for the -young, and this book has been written in answer to this -demand. That it will meet with great favor is beyond -question, for parents have recognized that their boys and -girls want something more than a Bible story, a dry -statement of facts, and that, in order to hold the attention -of the youthful readers, a book on this subject -should have life and movement as well as scrupulous -accuracy and religious sentiment.</span></p> -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Little Bermuda.</b> By <span class="smcap">Maria Louise Pool</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">Author of "Dally," "A Redbridge Neighborhood," "In a -Dike Shanty," "Friendship and Folly," etc.</span></p> - -<p><span class="negin1">The adventures of "Little Bermuda" from her home in -the tropics to a fashionable American boarding-school. -The resulting conflict between the two elements in her -nature, the one inherited from her New England ancestry, -and the other developed by her West Indian surroundings, -gave Miss Pool unusual opportunity for -creating an original and fascinating heroine.</span></p> -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Wild Ruthvens:</b> <span class="smcap">A Home Story</span>. By <span class="smcap">Curtis York</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">A story illustrating the mistakes, failures, and successes of -a family of unruly but warm-hearted boys and girls. -They are ultimately softened and civilized by the influence -of an invalid cousin, Dick Trevanion, who comes to -live with them.</span></p> -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>The Adventures of a Siberian Cub.</b> Translated from the -Russian of Slibitski by <span class="smcap">Leon Golschmann</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">This is indeed a book which will be hailed with delight, especially -by children who love to read about animals. -The interesting and pathetic adventures of the orphan-bear, -Mishook, will appeal to old and young in much the -same way as have "Black Beauty" and "Beautiful Joe."</span></p> -<div class="p1x"></div> -<p><b>Timothy Dole.</b> By <span class="smcap">Juniata Salsbury</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="negin1">The youthful hero, and a genuine hero he proves to be, -starts from home, loses his way, meets with startling adventures, -finds friends, kind and many, and grows to be a -manly man. It is a wholesome and vigorous book, that -boys and girls, and parents as well, will read and enjoy.</span></p> -</div> - - -<div class="transnote pg-brk"> -<a name="TN" id="TN"></a> - -<p><strong>TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE</strong></p> - -<p>Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been -corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within -the text and consultation of external sources.</p> - -<p>Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text, -and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained. For example: -writing-pad, writing pad; cocoanut; curtsey; beshawled.</p> - -<p> -<a href="#Page_38">Pg 38</a>, 'Onct our washerwoman' replaced by 'Once our washerwoman'.<br /> -<a href="#Page_38">Pg 38</a>, 'Onct I took' replaced by 'Once I took'.<br /> -<a href="#Page_42">Pg 42</a>, 'Onct when cats come' replaced by 'Once when cats come'.<br /> -<a href="#Page_90">Pg 90</a>, 'dare the undarable' replaced by 'dare the undareable'.<br /> -<a href="#Page_163">Pg 163</a>, 'only onct a day?' replaced by 'only once a day?'.<br /> -<a href="#Page_180">Pg 180</a>, 'onct have blue eyes' replaced by 'once have blue eyes'.<br /> -<a href="#Page_269">Pg 269</a>, "You mus' he" replaced by "You mus' be".<br /> -</p> - -<p><a href="#PBC">Publisher's Book Catalog:</a><br /> -In the Cosy Corner Series, 'and announce four' replaced by 'and -announce three'.</p> - -<p>A page from 'Gift Series for Boys and Girls' has been moved to its -proper position at the end of that section. This page described -'Three Children of Galilee' through 'Timothy Dole'.</p> -</div> - - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of 'Tilda Jane, by Marshall Saunders - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'TILDA JANE *** - -***** This file should be named 52018-h.htm or 52018-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/0/1/52018/ - -Produced by David Edwards, John Campbell and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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