diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/65540-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/65540-0.txt | 3339 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 3339 deletions
diff --git a/old/65540-0.txt b/old/65540-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index ba71f20..0000000 --- a/old/65540-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3339 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Youth, Vol. I, No. 6, August 1902, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Youth, Vol. I, No. 6, August 1902 - An Illustrated Monthly Journal for Boys & Girls - -Author: Various - -Editor: Herbert Leonard Coggins - -Release Date: June 7, 2021 [eBook #65540] - -Language: English - -Produced by: hekula03, Mike Stember, and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was - produced from images made available by the HathiTrust - Digital Library.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YOUTH, VOL. I, NO. 6, AUGUST 1902 *** - - - - - -[Illustration:] - - YOUTH - - VOLUME 1 NUMBER 6 - - 1902 - AUGUST - - _An_ ILLUSTRATED MONTHLY JOURNAL _for_ BOYS & GIRLS - - The Penn Publishing Company Philadelphia - - - - -CONTENTS FOR AUGUST - - - FRONTISPIECE (Polly’s Letter) Ida Waugh PAGE - - A BATTLE WITH A WINDMILL Frank H. Coleburn 197 - - WITH WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE (Serial) W. Bert Foster 201 - Illustrated by F. A. Carter - - MARY LANE’S HIGHER EDUCATION Marguerite Stables 210 - Illustrated by Ida Waugh - - LITTLE POLLY PRENTISS (Serial) Elizabeth Lincoln Gould 214 - - A NOVEL WEAPON 220 - - HOW PLANTS LIVE Julia McNair Wright 221 - Illustrated by Nina G. Barlow - - A DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST (Serial) Evelyn Raymond 223 - - WOOD-FOLK TALK J. Allison Atwood 230 - - THE OLDEST COLLEGES 231 - - WITH THE EDITOR 232 - - EVENT AND COMMENT 233 - - OUT OF DOORS 234 - - THE OLD TRUNK (Puzzles) 235 - - IN-DOORS (Parlor Magic, Paper VI) Ellis Stanyon 236 - - WITH THE PUBLISHER 237 - - -YOUTH - -_An Illustrated Monthly Journal for Boys and Girls_ - -SINGLE COPIES 10 CENTS ANNUAL SUBSCRIPTION $1.00 - -Sent postpaid to any address Subscriptions can begin at any time -and must be paid in advance - -Remittances may be made in the way most convenient to the sender, -and should be sent to - -THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY - -923 ARCH STREET, PHILADELPHIA, PA. - -Copyright 1902 by The Penn Publishing Company - -[Illustration: POLLY’S LETTER (Page 218)] - - - - - YOUTH - - VOL. I AUGUST 1902 No. 6 - - - - -A BATTLE WITH A WINDMILL - -By Frank H. Coleburn - - -Shortly after I left college, my father died, leaving me, his only son, -so well-nigh penniless that I was very glad, indeed, to accept the -position which Mr. Eller, an old friend of the family, offered me in -his vineyard. - -My benefactor’s home was in southern California, a region where the -people’s livelihood depends upon grapes and wine-making. - -One day, not long after my arrival, the big windmill, which supplied -the whole winery with water, got out of order and refused to pump. -Mr. Eller examined it carefully, but was unable to learn where the -difficulty lay. He came down from the tank much disturbed, for water -was a great necessity in that dry country. - -“Harry,” he said to me, “you’re something of a mechanic, aren’t you?” - -“I did pay a little attention to the study at one time,” I answered, -modestly. - -“Well, I wish you would try what you can do in the way of fixing that -windmill.” - -I promised that I would, and Mr. Eller left me. - -After supper that night I secured a hammer and a chisel and started -for the windmill. I had need to make haste if I expected to accomplish -anything that evening, for the days were shortening and already -darkness was falling. - -The windmill stood some two or three hundred yards from the house -directly behind the wine cellar. It was about seventy-five feet -high--from the base to the top of the wheel--but in that deceptive -twilight it looked like some giant finger reaching to the sky. - -I stuck my tools in my coat pocket and began to climb the long ladder -which stretched to the top of the tank. From thence it would be easy to -reach and manipulate the wheel. - -I made the ascent in safety, and after a little stood on top of the -rough boards with which the tank was covered. For some time I stood, -admiring the splendid view and wondering at the extent of country that -came under my gaze, until warned by the ever-increasing gloom that I -was out on business, not pleasure. - -I forget just what was the matter with the wheel. Some simple -disarrangement of the machinery which took me but little time to -ascertain and less to remedy. Feeling certain that the mill would now -perform its duty as well as before, I turned to retrace my way. In -doing so I stepped upon a half-concealed trap-door, intended to be used -as a means of ingress into the tank in case of repairs being needed. -This door was old and rotten; its hinges were broken and it rested very -insecurely upon its foundation. Consequently, it was unable to retain -my weight and tilted suddenly. I fell with a prodigious splash into the -water beneath. - -There were about two feet of water in the tank. I gurgled and sputtered -and struggled as though there were twenty. However, I quickly regained -my feet, dripping and shivering, and very much confused from my sudden -immersion, but uninjured. I was a prisoner, however. - -The tank was about ten feet in height. The sides were perfectly smooth -and afforded no foothold. There was no ladder or other means by which I -could clamber out. I vowed that if ever I built a tank I would provide -in some way for such an emergency as the present. - -About three and a half feet above my head was the supply pipe. It -extended a little ways into the tank. If I could only manage to reach -that I might possibly pull myself up and escape. I knew perfectly well -I could not reach it, but hope, like love, is blind to all obstacles, -and I jumped desperately for it. I failed, of course. I didn’t come -within a foot of it. However, after I had continued my effort for some -time I began to feel a comfortable warmth creep over that portion of my -body which was above water. Therefore, in lieu of anything better to -do, I kept on jumping. - -By and by my teeth stopped chattering--somewhat--and I stopped leaping -altogether. - -“Here’s a pretty mess,” I said to myself. “I wonder how long I’m to -be penned up in this place. Goodness knows my legs are tired enough -already without having to stand on them all night; and I can’t very -well sit down in two feet of water.” - -It suddenly occurred to me that I possessed a voice of tolerable -strength and clearness, and that I might make good use of it upon the -present occasion. Accordingly, I gave utterance to a few of the most -startling shouts that probably ever assailed the ears of a mortal. But -they were unsuccessful so far as escape was concerned. - -After I had shouted myself hoarse, I waited with patience for the -arrival of a relief party. At the end of five minutes it hadn’t come; -at the end of half an hour I didn’t believe it would come. - -“Surely,” I thought, “they must have heard those war-whoops at the -house. At any rate it’s about time Eller started out to hunt me up. He -certainly don’t think it’s going to take me forever to fix his plaguey -windmill.” - -I was becoming worried. The prospect of having to remain cooped up in -my present narrow quarters all night was by no means pleasant. The -expectation of having to stand for the next ten hours in two feet of -cold water was not pleasing to a person of my tastes. It might have -done for one of those old-time monks, who were always imposing penances -upon themselves for sins committed, but it was not suited to my -constitution. Most cheerfully would I have resigned my position to any -one expressing a wish for it. - -It was now pitch-dark in the tank. The only light I obtained was the -feeble glow of the stars shining through the trap-door. I stood under -this, gazing up wistfully into the heaven so high above me. After a -time my eyes grew heavy, my head fell forward onto my breast, and, -strange as it may appear, I dropped off into a gentle doze. I was -awakened by a slight breeze fanning my cheek. - -I opened my eyes dreamily. Overhead I could hear a deep, rumbling, -grating sound; something going up and down, up and down, as it were a -monstrous churn in motion. - -“What can that be?” was my ejaculation. I was not left long in -suspense. A perfect deluge of the coldest kind of water came pouring -down over me, drenching me to the skin; giving me, in fact, a regular -shower-bath. - -The stream continued without abatement, and I soon recovered -sufficiently from my momentary astonishment and confusion to move out -of the way. No one should say that I did not know enough to come in -when it rained. - -As yet I was hardly awake. I stood to one side, getting splashed, and -stupidly staring at the supply pipe, which was belching forth water. -Then the solution of the problem flashed through my brain. The windmill -was pumping. - -I was too startled at first to realize my peril. But gradually it -dawned upon me that the water was rising fast, and that if I did not -escape or relief did not come, in the course of a few hours I would be -drowned like a rat in a trap. - -I thrust my hand into my trousers pocket and pulled out my knife. -The large blade was open in a second, and I was at work with all my -might trying to dig a hole through the side of the tank. I quickly -saw that my task was hopeless. The wood was soft, but the planks were -very thick, and it would be hours before I could produce the smallest -opening. - -I must have something to occupy my attention, else I would go wild. So -I dug on till I broke my blade off short. - -I dropped the useless knife into the water. It sunk with a dull splash. -I stood feeling the water slowly creep its way upwards. I calculated -that I had about an hour and a half of life left to me. - -The water reached my waist. I threw myself against the walls of my -prison, shouting for help. But none came. The sound of my voice echoed -again and again into my own ears--it reached no others. I thought the -reverberations would never cease. It seemed to me as though the whole -world must have heard that despairing cry. - -I listened--every nerve strained to catch some echoing shout. But the -only sound that broke the stillness was the steady, incessant splash, -splash, splash of falling water; and the heavy noise of that great pump -working overhead. I called and listened again. Still no answer. - -My past life came up before me like a dream. I could see my mother--my -good mother--as plainly with my mind’s eye, as I had ever seen her with -the flush of life upon her cheek. I remembered the long confidential -talks we had together and the many times she told me to be good and -true and noble, and that was all she would ever ask. Then I recalled -many of the things I had said to her, and, strange to tell, there -dwelt in my recollection not the kisses I had given nor the love I had -bestowed upon her: I could call back only my unkind, cruel remarks, and -the heartbreaks I had caused her. I thought what a wretch I had been, -and did not believe that we could ever meet in heaven. - -The water was up to my shoulders now, but I hardly noticed it. - -My thoughts turned upon my father--so recently deceased. I remembered -his kind face, his noble brow, those premature wrinkles, and that -iron-gray hair. His failure, which had been the cause of his death, was -more the result of a lack of business instinct than anything else. His -tastes--like mine--had been wholly literary. - -The water was up to my neck. Ugh! how icy-cold it was--right from the -bowels of the earth. It seemed to freeze my blood. Ah, how stealthily -it crept up, little by little, inch by inch. It knew it had a victim -in its grasp, and had no fear of being cheated of its prey. In another -moment it would be at my mouth; another instant and it would be all -that I could do to breathe on tiptoe; another short minute and--I -turned and furiously beat again upon my prison wall with both my -fists. What madness! my eyes were almost starting from their sockets; -I imagined that they had the strange, hunted look of a poor rat when -cornered. I could understand the feelings of the little creature now. - -My hands fell nerveless to my side. They struck upon something hard in -either pocket of my coat. I thrust them in--almost unconsciously, and -drew forth--the hammer and the chisel. - -I uttered a cry of delight, and in another moment I was chiseling away -for dear life under water. In no time I had hacked out two rude steps. -I formed another just above the surface of the water, another still -higher, and another as high as I could reach. - -The water was to my nose. I dropped my tools and by the aid of nail and -hand and foot managed to draw myself up step by step, until I could -grasp the edge of the trap-door. Thus much accomplished, it was an -easy matter to lift myself out. I fell, panting and trembling in every -nerve, upon the rough board covering of the tank. - - * * * * * - -Mr. Eller had not heard my shouts for the simple reason that he had -been called by business into Fresno. The men slept in a house too far -distant from the windmill for my cries to reach. Thus it was that I had -been allowed nearly to yell my voice away without attracting attention. - -I had had a pretty good scare it must be confessed; so good, indeed, -that I have forever ceased to emulate Don Quixote in any more -adventures with a windmill. - -[Illustration: THE MORNING’S TRIAL] - - - - -WITH WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE - -By W. Bert Foster - -CHAPTER XIV - -The Occupation of Philadelphia - - SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. - - The story opens in the year 1777, during one of the most critical - periods of the Revolution. Hadley Morris, our hero, is in the employ - of Jonas Benson, the host of the Three Oaks, a well-known inn on the - road between Philadelphia and New York. Like most of his neighbors, - Hadley is an ardent sympathizer with the American cause. When, - therefore, he is intrusted with a message to be forwarded to the - American headquarters, the boy gives up, for the time, his duties at - the Three Oaks and sets out for the army. Here he remains until after - the fateful Battle of Brandywine. On the return journey he discovers - a party of Tories who have concealed themselves in a woods in the - neighborhood of his home. By approaching cautiously to the group - around the fire, Hadley overhears their plan to attack his uncle for - the sake of the gold which he is supposed to have concealed in his - house. With the assistance of Colonel Knowles, who, although a British - officer, seems to have taken a liking to Hadley, our hero successfully - thwarts the Tory raid. No sooner is the uncle rescued, however, than - he ungratefully shuts the door upon his nephew. Thereupon Hadley - immediately returns to the American army and joins the forces under - that dashing officer, “Mad Anthony” Wayne. In the disastrous night - engagement at Paoli our hero is left upon the battlefield wounded. - -The sun shining warmly upon his face through the rapidly-drying bushes -which during the night had partly sheltered him, was Hadley’s first -conscious feeling. Then he felt the dull pain in his leg where the -spent ball had become imbedded, and he rolled over with a groan. The -wood lay as peaceful and quiet under the rising sun as though such a -thing as war did not exist. Here and there a branch had been splintered -by a musket ball, or a bush had been trampled by the retreating -Americans. But the rain had washed away all the brown spots from -the grass and twigs, and the birds twittered gayly in the treetops, -forgetting the disturbing conflict of the night. - -The boy found, when he tried to rise, that his whole leg was numb and -he could only drag it as he hobbled through the wood. To cover the -few rods which lay between the place where he had slept and the road, -occupied some minutes. The wound had bled freely, and now the blood was -caked over it, and every movement of the limb caused much pain. - -Where had his companions gone? When the company rolls were called that -morning there would be no inquiry for him, for he was not a regularly -recruited man. He had been but a hanger-on of the brigade which was so -disastrously attacked during the night, and they would all forget him. -Captain Prentice was far away, and Hadley had known nobody else well -among Wayne’s troops. The fact of his loneliness, together with his -wound and his hunger, fairly brought the tears to his eyes, great boy -that he was. But many a soldier who has fought all day with his face -to the enemy has wept childish tears when left at night, wounded and -alone, on the battlefield. - -However, one could not really despair on such a bright morning as this, -and Hadley soon plucked up courage. He got out his pocket knife, found -a sapling with a crotched top, cut it off the proper length, and used -it for a crutch. With this, and dragging his useless musket behind him, -he hobbled up the road in a direction which he knew must bring him to -the American lines, and eventually to Philadelphia. But such traveling -was slow and toilsome work, and he was trembling all the time for fear -he would fall in with the British. - -He had not been many minutes on the way, however, when a man stepped -out of the brush beside the road and barred his way. Hadley was -frightened at first; then he recognized the man and shouted with -delight. - -“Lafe Holdness! How ever did you come here?” - -“Jefers-pelters!” exclaimed the Yankee scout. “I reckon I might better -ask yeou that question, Had. An’ wounded, too! Was yeou with that -brigade last night that got bamfoozled?” - -“The British attacked us unexpectedly. Oh, Lafe! they charged right -through our lines and bayonetted the men awful.” - -“I reckon. It’s war, boy--you ain’t playin’.” Meanwhile the man had -assisted Hadley to a seat on the bank and with his own knife calmly -ripped up the leg of Hadley’s trousers. “Why, boy, you’ve got a ball in -there--as sure as ye live!” - -“It hurts pretty bad, Lafe,” Hadley admitted, wincing when the scout -touched the leg which was now inflamed about the wound. - -There was a rill nearby, and to this the scout hurried and brought -water back in his cap. With the boy’s handkerchief he washed the dry -blood away and then, by skilful pressure of his fingers, found the -exact location of the imbedded bullet. “Oh, this ain’t so bad,” he -said, cheerfully. “We’ll fix it all right in no time. But ye musn’t do -much walking for some days to come. Yeou can ride, though, and I’ve -got a hoss nearby. First of all, I must git the ball aout and wash the -hole. Ye see, Had, the ball lies right under the skin on the back of -the leg--so. D’ye see?” - -“I can feel it all right,” groaned Hadley. - -“Well, it’s a pity it didn’t go way through. Howsomever, if you’ll keep -a stiff upper lip for a minute, I’ll get the critter aout. ’Twon’t hurt -much ter speak of. Swabbin’ aout the hole, though, ’ll likely make ye -jump.” - -He opened the knife again and, before Hadley could object, had made a -quick incision over the ball and the lead pellet dropped out into his -hand. The boy did not have a chance to cry out, it was done so quickly. -“So much for so much,” said Lafe, in a business-like tone. “Nothin’ -like sarvin’ yer ’prenticeship ter all sorts of trades. I ain’t no -slouch of a surgeon, I calkerlate. Now, lemme git an alder twig.” - -He obtained the twig in question, brought more water, and then -proceeded, after having removed the pith from the heart of the twig, -to blow the cool water into the wound. Hadley cried out at this and -begged him to desist, but Lafe said: “Come, Had, yeou can stand a -little pain now for the sake of being all right by and by, can’t yeou? -It’s better to be sure than sorry. P’r’aps there warn’t no cloth nor -nothin’ got inter that wound, but ye can’t tell. One thing, there -warn’t no artery cut or ye’d bled ter death lyin’ under them bushes all -night. I ’spect many a poor chap did die in yander after the retreat. -Anthony Wayne’ll have ter answer for that. They say he’s goin’ ter be -court-martialed.” - -Having cleaned the wound, Holdness bound it up tightly with strips torn -from the boy’s cotton shirt, and then brought up the horse which he had -hidden hard by. He helped the boy into the saddle and walked beside -him until they were through the American picket lines. The wounded -had been sent on to Philadelphia, for there were few conveniences for -field hospitals. “Yeou take that hoss and ride inter Philadelphy, -Had,” said Holdness. “Leave it at the Queen and take yourself to this -house”--he gave the wounded lad a brief note scrawled on a bit of dirty -paper--“and the folks there’ll look out for ye till the laig’s well. -I’ll git another hoss somewhere else that’ll do jest as well. Yeou -can’t go clean back to Jarsey with your laig in that shape.” - -It was a hard journey for the wounded youth, and before he crossed the -Schuylkill and followed Chestnut Street down into the heart of the -town, he was well-nigh spent. He fairly fell off the horse in front of -the Indian Queen Tavern, and the hostler had to help him to the address -which Holdness had given him. Here the good man and his wife--Quaker -folk were they, who greatly abhorred the bloodshed of the war, yet were -stanch supporters of the American cause--took the boy in and cared for -him as though he was their own son. For a night and a day he kept to -his bed; but he could not stand it any longer than that. The surgeon -who was called to attend him declared the wound had been treated very -well indeed by the scout, and that it was healing nicely; so what does -Master Hadley do but hobble downstairs to the breakfast table on the -second morning, determined no longer to cause the good Quakeress, -Mistress Pye, the extra trouble of sending his breakfast up to him. - -He was anxious to learn the news, too. Affairs were moving swiftly -these days in Philadelphia. The uncertainty of what the next day might -bring forth forced shops to close and almost all business to cease. The -Whigs were leaving by hundreds; even the men who held authoritative -places in the council of the town had departed, fearful of what might -happen when the redcoats marched in. And that Washington could keep -them out for long, after the several reverses the American troops had -sustained, was not to be believed. - -A sense of portending calamity hung over the city like an invisible -cloud. A third of the houses were shut and empty. Many of the others -were occupied solely by servants or slaves, the families having flown -to the eastward. Hadley did not get outside the door of the Pye house -that day, for he was watched too closely. But early on the morning of -the 26th the whole street was aroused by the swift dash of a horseman -over the cobbles; and a cry followed the flying messenger: - -“The British are coming!” - -The people ran out of their houses, never waiting for their breakfasts. -Was the news true? Had the redcoats eluded the thin line of Americans -that so long had stayed their advance upon the town? Soon the truth was -confirmed. Congress had adjourned to Lancaster. Howe had made a feint -of marching on Reading, and when the Americans were thrown forward to -protect that town the British had turned aside and were now within -sight. They had surprised and overpowered a small detachment left -to guard the approach to Philadelphia, and--the city was lost! His -Excellency was then at Skippack Creek with the bulk of his army, and -the city could hope for no help from him. - -Hadley, hobbling on a crutch, but too anxious and excited to remain -longer indoors, soon reached Second Street. From Callowhill to Chestnut -it was filled with old men and children. Scarcely a youth of his own -age was to be seen, for the young men had gone into the army. It -was a quiet, but a terribly anxious crowd, and questions which went -unanswered were whispered from man to man. Will the redcoats really -march in to-day? Will the helpless folk left in the city be treated -as a conquered people? Why had Congress, spurred on by hot-heads, -sanctioned this war at all? Many who had been enthusiastic in the cause -were lukewarm now. The occupation of the town might mean the loss of -their homes and the scattering of those whom they loved. - -Here and there a Tory strutted, unable to hide his delight at the -turn affairs had taken. Several times little disturbances, occasioned -by the overbearing manners of this gentry arose, but as a whole the -crowds were solemn and gloomy. At eleven o’clock a squadron of dragoons -appeared and galloped along the street, scattering the crowd to right -and left; but it closed in again as soon as they were through, for -far down the thoroughfare sounded the first strains of martial music. -Then something glittered in the sunshine, and the people murmured -and stepped out into the roadway the better to see the head of the -approaching army of their conquerors. - -A wave of red--steadily advancing--and tipped with a line of flashing -steel bayonets was finally descried. In perfect unison the famous -grenadiers came into view, their pointed red caps, fronted with -silver, their white leather leggings, and short scarlet coats, trimmed -with blue, making an impressive display. Hadley, who had seen the -nondescript farmer soldiery of the American army, sighed at this -parade. How could General Washington expect to beat such men as these? -And then the boy remembered how he had seen the same farmers standing -off the trained British hosts at Brandywine, and later at the Warren -Tavern, and he took heart. Training and dress, and food, and good looks -were not everything. Every man on the American side was fighting for -his hearth, for his wife, for his children, and for everything he loved -best on earth. - -Behind the grenadiers rode a group of officers, the first a stout man, -with gray hair and a pleasant countenance, despite the squint in his -eye. A whisper went through the silent crowd and reached Hadley’s ear: -“’Tis Lord Cornwallis!” Then there was a louder murmur--in some cases -threatening in tone. Behind the officers rode a party of Tories hated -by every patriot in Philadelphia--the two Allens, Tench Coxe, Enoch -Story, Joe Galloway. Never would they have dared return but under the -protection of British muskets. - -Then followed the Fourth, Fortieth and Fifty-fifth regiments--all in -scarlet. Then Hadley saw a uniform he knew well--would never forget, -indeed. He saw it when Wayne held the tide of Knyphausen’s ranks back -at Chadd’s Ford. Breeches of yellow leather, leggings of black, dark -blue coats, and tall, pointed hats of brass completed the uniform of -the hireling soldiery which, against their own desires and the desires -of their countrymen, had been sent across the ocean by their prince -to fight for the English king. A faint hiss rose from the crowd of -spectators as the Hessians, with their fierce mustaches and scowling -looks marched by. - -Then there were more grenadiers, cavalry, artillery, and wagons -containing provisions and the officers’ tents. The windows rattled to -the rumbling wheels and the women cowered behind the drawn blinds, -peering out upon the ranks that, at the command of a ruler across the -sea who cared nothing for these colonies but what could be made out of -them, had come to shoot down and to enslave their own flesh and blood. - -Hadley could not get around very briskly; but he learned where some -of the various regiments were quartered. The artillery was in the -State House yard. Those wounded Continentals, who had lain in the long -banqueting hall on the second floor of the State House, and who could -not get away or be moved by their friends, would now learn what a -British prison pen was like. Hadley shuddered to think how he had so -nearly escaped a like fate, and was fearful still that something might -happen to reveal to the enemy that he, too, had taken up arms against -the king. The Forty-second Highlanders were drawn up in Chestnut Street -below Third; the Fifteenth regiment was on High Street. When ranks were -broken in the afternoon the streets all over town were full of red or -blue-coated figures. - -Hadley hobbled back to the shelter of the Pye homestead and learned -from the good Quaker where some of the officers had been quartered. -Cornwallis was just around the corner on Second Street at Neighbor -Reeves’s house; Knyphausen was at Henry Lisle’s, while the younger -officers, including Lord Rawden, were scattered among the better houses -of the town. A young Captain André (later Major André) was quartered in -Dr. Franklin’s old house. The British had really come into the hot-bed -of the “rebels” and had made themselves much at home. - - -CHAPTER XV - -HADLEY IS CAST OFF BY UNCLE EPHRAIM - -The army of occupation brought in its train plenty of Tories and -hangers-on besides the men named, though none who had been quite so -prominent in affairs or were so greatly detested. It now behooved the -good folk of pronounced Whig tendencies to walk circumspectly, for -enemies lay in wait at every corner to hale them before the British -commander and accuse them of traitorous conduct. Hadley Morris, -therefore, although he did not expect to be recognized by anybody in -the town, resolved to get away as soon as his wound would allow. - -He could not resist, however, going out at sunset to observe the -evening parade of the conquerors. There was something very fascinating -for him in the long lines of brilliant uniforms and the glittering -accoutrements. The British looked as though they had been simply -marching through the country on a continual dress parade. How much -different was the condition of even the uniformed Continentals! - -To the strains of martial music the sun sank to rest, and as the -streets grew dark the boisterous mirth of the soldiery disturbed those -of the inhabitants who, fearful still of some untoward act upon the -part of the invaders, had retired behind the barred doors of their -homes. In High Street and on the commons camp fires were burning, and -Hadley wandered among them, watching the soldiers cooking their evening -meal. Most of the houses he passed were shut; but here and there was -one wide open and brilliantly lighted. These were the domiciles where -the officers were quartered, or else, being the abode of “faithful” -Tories, the proprietors were celebrating the coming of the king’s -troops. Laughter and music came from these, and the Old Coffee House -and the Indian Queen were riotous with parties of congratulation upon -the occupation by the redcoats. - -As Hadley hobbled back to Master Pye’s past the tavern, he suddenly -observed a familiar face in the crowd. A number of country bumpkins -were mixing with the soldiery before the entrance to the Indian Queen, -and Hadley was positive he saw Lon Alwood. Whether the Tory youth -had observed him or not, Hadley did not know; but the fact of Lon’s -presence in the city caused him no little anxiety and he hurried -on to the Quaker’s abode. He wondered what had brought Lon up to -Philadelphia--and just at this time of all others? - -“The best thing I can do is to get out of town as quick as -circumstances will permit,” thought Hadley, and upon reaching Friend -Pye’s he told the old Quaker how he had seen somebody who knew him in -the city--a person who would leave no stone unturned to injure him if -possible. - -“We must send thee away, then, Hadley,” declared the Quaker. “Where -wilt thou go with thy wounded leg?” - -“I’ll go home. There isn’t anything for a wounded man to do about here, -I reckon. But the leg won’t hobble me for long.” - -“Nay, I hope not. I will see what can be done for thee in the morning.” - -Friend Jothan Pye was considered, even by his Tory neighbors, to be -too close a man and too sharp a trader to have any real interest in the -patriot cause. He had even borne patiently from the Whigs much calumny -that he might, by so doing, be the better able to help the colonies. -Now that the British occupied the town, he might work secretly for the -betterment of the Americans and none be the wiser. He had already gone -to the British officers and obtained a contract for the cartage of -grain into the city for the army, and in two days it was arranged that -Hadley should go out of town in one of Friend Pye’s empty wagons, and -he did so safely, hidden under a great heap of empty grain sacks. In -this way he traveled beyond Germantown and outside the British lines -altogether. - -Then he found another teamster going across the river, and with him he -journeyed until he was at the Mills, only six miles from the Three Oaks -Inn. Those last six miles he managed to hobble with only the assistance -of his crutch, arriving at the hostelry just at evening. Jonas Benson -had returned from Trenton and the boy was warmly welcomed by him. -Indeed, that night in the public room, Hadley was the most important -person present. The neighbors flocked in to hear him tell of the Paoli -attack and of the occupation of Philadelphia, and he felt like a -veteran. - -But he could not help seeing that Mistress Benson was much put out with -him. As time passed the innkeeper’s wife grew more and more bitter -against the colonists. She had been born in England, and the presence -of Colonel Knowles and his daughter at the inn seemed to have fired her -smoldering belief in the “divine right,” and had particularly stirred -her bile against the Americans. - -[Illustration: THERE WAS AN OCCASIONAL OUTBREAK IN THE QUIET TOWN] - -“I’m sleepin’ in the garret, myself, Had,” groaned Jonas, in an aside -to the boy. “I can’t stand her tongue when she gets abed o’ nights. -I’m hopin’ this war’ll end before long, for it’s a severin’ man and -wife--an’ sp’ilin’ business, into the bargain. She’s complainin’ about -me keepin’ your place for ye, Had, so I’ve got Anson Driggs for stable -boy. And, of course, she won’t let me pay Miser Morris your wage no -more. I didn’t know but she’d come down from her high hosses when them -Knowlses went away, but she’s worse ’n ever!” - -“Have the Colonel and Mistress Lillian gone?” - -“They have, indeed--bad luck to them!--though I’ve no fault to find -with the girl: she was prettily spoken enough. But the Colonel had been -recalled to his command, I understand. His business with your uncle -came to naught, I reckon. D’ye know what it was, Had?” - -Hadley shook his head gloomily. “No. Uncle would tell me nothing. But -the Colonel seemed very bitter against him.” - -“And what d’ye think of doing?” - -“I’m not fit for anything until this wound heals completely. I can’t -walk much for some time yet. But I’ll go over and see Uncle in the -morning.” - -“Ride Molly over. There’s no need o’ your walking about here. And come -back here to sleep. Likely Miser Morris will be none too glad to see -ye. Your bed’s in the loft same’s us’al. Anson goes home at night. The -place is dead, anyway. If this war doesn’t end soon I might as well -burn the old house down--there’s no money to be got by keeping it open.” - -On the morrow Hadley climbed upon Black Molly and rode over to the -Morris homestead. Most of the farmers in the neighborhood had harvested -their grain by this time. The corn was shocked and the pumpkins gleamed -in golden contrast to the brown earth and stubble. In some fields he -saw women and children at work, the men being away with the army. The -sight was an encouraging one. Despite the misfortunes and reverses of -General Washington’s army, this showed that the common people were -still faithful to the cause of liberty. - -News, too, of an encouraging nature had come from the north. The battle -of Bennington and the first battle of Stillwater had been fought. -The army of Burgoyne, which was supposed to be unconquerable, had -been halted and, even with the aid of Indians and Tories, the British -commander could not have got past General Gates. News traveled slowly -in those days, but a pretty correct account had dribbled through the -country sections; and there was still some hope of Washington striking -a decisive blow himself before winter set in. - -The signs of plenty in the fields as he rode on encouraged Hadley -Morris, who had seen, of late, so many things to discourage his hope in -the ultimate success of the American arms. When he reached his uncle’s -grain fields he found that they, too, had been reaped, and so clean -that there was not a beggar’s gleaning left among the stubble. He rode -on to the house, thinking how much good the store of grain Ephraim -Morris had gathered might do the patriot troops, were Uncle Ephraim -only of his way of thinking. - -As he approached the house the watch dog began barking violently, and -not until he had laboriously dismounted before the stable door did -the brute recognize him. Then it ran up to the boy whining and licked -his hand; but as Uncle Ephraim appeared the dog backed off and began -to bark again as though it were not, after all, quite sure whether to -greet the boy as a friend or an enemy. Evidently the old farmer had -been in like quandary, for he bore a long squirrel rifle in the hollow -of his arm, and his brows met in a black scowl when his gaze rested on -his nephew’s face. - -“Well, what want ye here?” he demanded. - -“Why, Uncle, I have come to see you--” - -“I’m no uncle of yours--ye runaway rebel!” exclaimed the old man, -harshly. “What’s this I hear from Jonas Benson? He says ye are not at -his inn and that he’ll no longer pay me the wages he promised. If that -doesn’t make you out a runaway ’prentice, then what does it mean?” - -“Why, you know, Mistress Benson is very violent for the king just now--” - -“Ha!” exclaimed the farmer. “I didn’t know she had the sense to be. -It’s too bad she doesn’t get a little of it into Jonas.” - -“Well, she doesn’t want me around. And Jonas can’t pay two of us.” - -“She wouldn’t have turned ye off if ye’d stayed where ye belonged, -Hadley Morris. Oh, I know ye--and I know what ye’ve been doing of -late,” cried the farmer. “Ha! lame air ye? What’s that from?” - -“I got a ball in my leg--” - -“I warrant. Crippling yourself, too. Been fighting with the ‘ragamuffin -reg’lars,’ hey? An’ sarve ye right--sarve ye right, I say!” The old -man scowled still more fiercely. “And now that you’ve got licked, ye -come back home like a cur with its tail ’twixt its legs, arskin’ ter be -taken in--hey? I know your breed.” - -“If you don’t want me here I can go away again,” Hadley said, quietly. - -“What would I want ye for? You’re a lazy, good-for-nothing--that’s -what ye air! There’s naught for ye to do about the farm this time -o’ year--an’ crippled, too. Ye’d never come back to me if that ball -hadn’t hit ye. Ye’d stayed on with that Mr. Washington ye’re so fond -of talking about. Ha! I’m done with ye! Ye’ve been naught but an -expense and a trouble since your mother brought ye here--and she was an -expense, too. I’m a poor man; I can’t have folks hangin’ ter the tail -o’ my coat. Your mother--” - -“Suppose we let that drop, sir,” interrupted Hadley, firmly, and his -eyes flashed. “Everybody in this neighborhood knows what my mother was. -They know that she worked herself into her grave in this house. And if -she hadn’t begged me to stay here as long as I could be of any use to -you, I’d never stood your ill treatment as long as I did. And now,” -cried the youth, growing angrier as he thought of the slurring tone his -uncle had used in speaking of the dead woman, “it lies with you whether -you break with your last relative on earth or not. I will stand abuse -myself, and hard work; but you shan’t speak one word against mother!” - -“Hoity, toity!” exclaimed the old man. “The young cock is crowing, heh? -Who are you that tells me what I should do, or shouldn’t do?” Hadley -was silent. He was sorry now that he had spoken so warmly. “Seems to -me, Master Hadley, for a beggar, ye talk pretty uppishly--that’s it, -uppishly! And you are a beggar--ye’ve got nothing and ye never will -have anything. I’ll find some other disposal to make of my farm here--” - -“I’m not looking for dead men’s shoes!” flashed out the boy again. -“You’ve had my time, and you’ve a right to it for three years longer. -If you want to hire me out as soon as my wound is well, you can do so. -I haven’t refused to work for you.” - -“Yah!” snarled the old man. “Who wants to hire a boy at this time -of the year? The country’s ruined as it is--jest ruined. There’s no -business. I tell you that you’re an expense, and I’d ruther have your -room than your company.” - -Hadley turned swiftly. He had clung to Black Molly’s bridle. Now he -climbed upon the horse block and, in spite of his wound, fairly flung -himself into the saddle. “You’ve told me to go, Uncle Ephraim!” he -exclaimed, with flaming cheeks. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” and, -pounding his heels into the mare’s sides, he set off at a gallop along -the path, and in a moment was out of sight of the angry farmer. - -There was bitterness in the boy’s heart and angry tears in his eyes as -Black Molly fled across the pastures and out upon the highway. Hadley -Morris did not really love his uncle. There was nothing lovable about -Miser Morris. The boy had been misjudged and his mother spoken ill -of--and that fact he could not forget. He had tried for a year and a -half to keep from a final disagreement with Uncle Ephraim; but to no -avail. The old man did not consider Hadley old enough to judge for -himself, or to have any opinions of his own. The times were such that -children grew to youth and young men to manhood very rapidly. When the -fathers went to the war the sons became the providers and defenders of -the household; if the fathers did not go, the sons were in the ranks -themselves. Questions were not asked regarding age by the recruiting -officers, providing a youth looked hearty and was able to carry a -musket. And Hadley felt himself a man grown in experience, if not in -years, after the exciting incidents of the past few weeks. - -“I am able to judge for myself in some things,” he told himself, -pulling Molly down to a walk, so as to ease his leg. “If Uncle would -accept the fact that I have a right to my own opinion, as he has a -right to his, we never would have quarreled. I’d never gone over to -the Three Oaks to work. And then I’d never seen any active service, I -s’pose. He’s got only himself to thank for it, if he did not want me to -join the army. - -“But now, I reckon, there isn’t anything left for me to do but that. -Jonas can’t have me and keep peace in the family; and I wouldn’t stay -after the way Mistress Benson talked last night--no, indeed. I’ll go -to some of the neighbors. They’ll give me a bite to eat and a place to -sleep till my leg gets well enough for me to walk. Then I’ll go back to -the army.” - -He so decided; but when Jonas heard his plan he vetoed it at once. -“What, Had!” cried the old innkeeper, “d’ye think I’ll let a nagging -woman drive you away from here to the neighbors? Nay, nay! I’m master -here yet, and she is not really so bad, Had. She doesn’t begrudge ye -the bite and sup. Stay till your leg is well.” - -“But I shall not feel comfortable as long as I stay, Jonas,” declared -the boy. - -“And how long will that be? Your leg is mending famously. If you could -but ride ye’d be fit to go into battle again now. Ah, lad, I’m proud of -you--and glad that it was part through me ye went to the wars. I can’t -go myself; but I can give of what I have, and if the mistress does -not like it she can scold--’twill make her feel better, I vum.” Then -he looked at Hadley curiously. “You’re anxious to get back to General -Washington again, eh, lad?” - -“I wish I had hunted up Captain Prentice, or Colonel Cadwalader, when -I got out of Philadelphia, instead of coming over here,” admitted the -youth. - -“Then start back now,” Jonas said. “Ride Molly--she knows ye, and ye’ll -get back in time to be of some use, mayhap, for I heard this morning -that there’s a chance of another battle in a day or two.” - -“Take Molly, sir?” cried the astonished boy. - -“Yes. Most of my horses have already gone to the cause. I’ve got a -packet of scrip, as they call it, for ’em, but it’s little worth the -stuff is now, and perhaps it will never be redeemed. But I’m a poor -sort of a fellow if I mind that. You take Molly. I know if you both -live you’ll come back here. And if she is killed--” - -The innkeeper stopped, for his voice had broken. He was looking hard at -the boy’s flushed face, and now he reached up and gripped Hadley’s hand -with sudden warmth. The youth knew that it was not the thought of the -possible loss of Black Molly that had choked the worthy innkeeper, but -the fear that, perhaps, her rider would never come back again. - -“I’ll take her, Jonas--and thank you. I’ll be happier--better content, -at least--away from here. Uncle doesn’t want me, nor does he need me; -and certainly Mistress Benson doesn’t wish me about the inn. So I’ll -take Molly, and if all comes well you shall have her back safe and -sound.” - -“That’s all right--that’s all right, Had!” exclaimed the other, -quickly. “Look out when them army smiths shoe her. She’s got just the -suspicion of a corn on that nigh fore foot, ye know. And take care of -yourself, Had.” - -He wrung Hadley’s hand again and the boy pulled the little mare around. -There was nothing more to be said; there was nothing to keep him back. -So Hadley Morris rode away to join Washington’s forces, which then lay -idle near the beleaguered city. - - -[TO BE CONTINUED] - -[Illustration] - - - - -Mary Lane’s Higher Education - -By Marguerite Stables - - -Mrs. Lane dropped down on the door-step and fanned herself with her -apron. “It does beat all,” she said, aloud to herself, “how trifling -these heathens are. Here I am paying seven dollars a week to this -miserable Chinaman to do nothing but the cooking, and now if he doesn’t -slip off without a word and leave me to do all the work.” - -“Don’t bother about it, mamma,” answered Mary Lane, with an abstracted -air, “_pingo_, irregular, we can eat, _pingere_, anything. It’s too hot -to worry, _pinxi_, _pinctum_.” - -Mary meant to be kind, but as she hunched her shoulders over her book -again, her mother’s trials were entirely out of her mind. But for once -in her life the overworked woman’s patience forsook her. “I’ve got to -bother,” she said, wearily, “what with a houseful of city boarders, -and this being quarterly conference and the ministers coming here to -dinner, and that heathen away. I can’t let it go, I’ve got to bother.” -Then she arose and walked away quickly so her plaints should not -disturb her daughter’s studying. - -A few moments later a gentle knock was heard at the door, and--“Mamma -says she would like to have screens put into her windows, Mrs. Lane,” -said a crisp-looking young girl who put her head into the door, “and -the water won’t run upstairs, and we need more--why, what in the world -is the matter?” she finished abruptly, for poor Mrs. Lane had put down -her pitcher, looking as if this was the last straw. - -“Everything is the matter,” the tired woman answered, and motioned the -girl into the hall to explain that all her troubles seemed to have -culminated that morning and that the ministers were to be there for -dinner. - -“Can’t you get any one to help you?” the girl asked, looking -inquiringly through the door at Mary. - -“No, she’s too busy studying; I wouldn’t have her stop preparing for -her Latin examination for anything; she is going to have a higher -education, you know,” she added, with a touch of pride. - -The youthful summer boarder looked down at the tired little woman -with a bright smile. “Oh, Mrs. Lane, I’m coming right in to help you, -myself,” she said; “I just love to do things in the kitchen, honestly -I do,” commencing to take off her rings and rolling up her sleeves, as -she saw Mrs. Lane had not fully grasped what she had said. - -“No, you must not stay in this hot place,” the woman said, noticing -the stiff collar and freshly starched duck skirt; “and, besides,” she -continued, to herself, as she remembered how some of her boarders, last -summer, had tried to have a candy-pull and had set the house on fire, -“I can’t be bothered now showing her. I know how these city girls work.” - -But by this time the “city girl,” unconscious of Mrs. Lane’s thoughts, -had one of the latter’s big kitchen aprons tied around her waist and -was waving a wooden spoon by way of punctuating her orders. - -“Now, Mrs. Lane, I’m the new hired girl, Blanche is my name, and -although I have no recommendation from my last place to give you, I -assure you I am honest and willing. You don’t know how I just love to -get a chance to fuss around a kitchen; it is such a change from the -grind of--” Here the potatoes boiled over and she flew to take off the -lid. - -The morning wore away much more peacefully for Mrs. Lane than it had -begun. Many steps were saved her by the “new girl’s” watchfulness, and -there were even several bursts of merry laughter from the buttery, -which dispelled more clouds than the real assistance did. - -“I may not be so skilled in making bread and doing the useful things,” -Blanche apologized, “for I have taken only the ‘classical course’ -in cookery. Nettie and I spent last summer down at Aunt Cornelia’s -while the rest of the family were in Europe, and she told us we could -do whatever we pleased, and what do you suppose we chose? I chose -puttering around the kitchen, and Nettie took to hoeing the weeds out -of the vegetable garden. And it was such fun!” - -The ministers came earlier than they were expected, and Mrs. Lane was -hurried out of the kitchen to put on her good dress, with a pledge to -secrecy as to the force in the culinary department. - -By dinner-time, the Chinaman, having unexpectedly put in his -appearance, was waiting on the table as if nothing had happened, but -Mrs. Lane was too nervous and apprehensive at first even to notice how -different the table looked. There were roses everywhere, a gorgeous -American Beauty at each place, and the fish globe in the centre of the -table was full of them; but they were all of one variety. Mrs. Lane -thought secretly that when the larkspurs and hollyhocks were so fine it -did seem a pity not to mix a few in just to give it a little style. She -had grave doubts as to the salad when she saw it brought on, although -she was bound to admit the yellow-green lettuce looked very pretty, -garnished with the bright red petals; but when she tasted it she was -reassured. She could not make out what it was made of, but she only -hoped it seemed as palatable to every one else as it did to her. - -The boarders were all delighted with this new departure, and attributed -it to the presence of the ministers, consequently they warmed toward -them with a friendliness born of gratitude, and the ministers in their -turn did their utmost to return the graciousness and courtesy of -the boarders, till the board might have been surrounded by a picked -number of congenial friends, so beautifully did everything progress. -“Brother” Mason eyed the array of forks and spoons at his plate -somewhat suspiciously, wondering if he had them all and was expected to -pass them along, but Blanche clattered hers so ostentatiously that he -noticed she had the same number and was satisfied. - -The success of the next course was due to Mrs. Lane, for the “new -girl” explained to the mistress that meats and vegetables did not come -in the “classical course.” “Brother” Hicks talked so volubly about -foreign missions that Mary did not notice that even the currant jelly -was made to do its part in developing the color scheme of the table and -that it matched the roses as exactly as if it had been made after a -sample. But when the cake was brought in and set before her to be cut -she thought at the first glance it was another flower piece, but she -saw the quick, approving glance shot from her mother to Miss Blanche, -and suspected the new boarder might have suggested its design. It was -set on the large, round wooden tray used to mash the sugar in. Even -the frosting was tinted an American Beauty pink, and around its base -a garland of the same glowing roses. Through the jumble of irregular -verbs and the rules for indirect discourse the secret suddenly dawned -upon her. It was the city girl who walked with her head so high and -wore such beautiful dresses who had made the dinner such a success, -while she--but that was different, she was preparing for college. - -Mrs. Lane was complacent and happy the remainder of the evening and -less tired than she had been for many days, and when the ministers took -their leave of her the Presiding Elder said, “I shall remember this -evening and the beautiful repast you have given us for a long time to -come, Sister Lane.” - -[Illustration: “I SHALL REMEMBER THE BEAUTIFUL REPAST FOR A LONG TIME -TO COME, SISTER LANE,” SAID THE PRESIDING ELDER] - -Blanche’s bright eyes sparkled with fun, and Mary, although she could -not have told why, felt just a bit uncomfortable. “Isn’t it interesting -to know that our English words _transfer_ and _translate_ come from the -same root?” she said, presently, in her own mind trying to vindicate -herself for not helping her mother. - -“Oh, don’t,” broke in Blanche, laughingly, “talk about the dirty old -roots under ground when we have these glorious flowers that grow on -top.” - -It had grown too dark for any one to see the pity in Mary’s smile for -this frivolous city-bred girl who wasted her time on amusements and -learning a little chafing-dish cooking, and didn’t even know what a -Latin root was. - -Blanche’s mother was kept in her room the next day with a headache, -so Blanche’s time was divided between taking care of her invalid and -lending a hand to Mrs. Lane till she could get another cook. Mrs. Lane -had never expected Mary to help her; knowing how hard her own life -had been, she was trying to fit her for a teacher, but as she watched -Blanche flying about the house, setting the table, rolling out her -cheese straws, running up and down to her mother’s room with a patch of -flour on her curly hair, and singing gayly about her work, her tired -eyes followed the young girl wistfully. It would be worth a great deal, -she admitted, to have a daughter like that, even if she had not a word -of Latin in her head. But, of course, the higher education could not be -interfered with by the old-fashioned way of bringing up a daughter, and -Mary took to books. - -“I am going to college this fall if I pass the entrance examinations,” -Mary announced at the lunch table, with just a touch of superiority in -her tone. She could not have explained just why she felt so resentful -toward the city girl. - -“Are you going East, or will you stay out here on the coast?” Blanche -asked, as if it were the most every-day thing to go to college. - -“I have not decided yet, for I shall be the only girl anywhere around -here who has gone to college,” she answered, nibbling one of Blanche’s -cheese straws with an evident relish. - -“Have another,” Blanche interrupted, passing her the plate with a hand -that showed two burns and a slight scald. “We used to serve them with -tamales when our friends came down from town to the trial foot-ball -games.” - -“Why, I thought you lived in San Francisco?” Mary said, looking up in -surprise. - -“I do,” Blanche answered, “but I’ve been down at Stanford the last four -years, and have just finished this last semester.” - -Mary’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “Why,” she began, -incredulously, “I thought you--you--” She did not like to say she had -thought that the sunny-faced girl before her had no appreciation of -education because she liked to do useful, domestic things, too. - -“You thought I could do nothing but cook?” Blanche finished, laughingly. - -But Mary did not answer. Blanche Hallsey was certainly not much older -than she, and yet, with all her college education, she had been in the -kitchen all that hot morning, kneading bread and scouring silver for -Mrs. Lane. - -“If you decide to go to Stanford, I can write to some of the girls to -look out for you,” Blanche went on, for she had not noticed Mary’s -attitude of superiority the last few days. - -“Oh, would you, please?” Mary Lane pleaded, in a tone that would have -greatly surprised her mother had she heard it, for not even she guessed -how the fear of going among strangers for the first time in her life -had been haunting her diffident little girl. - -It was several days, however, before Mary, with her forehead puckered -into knots over the “ablative absolute,” could bring herself to knock -at Miss Hallsey’s door, and ask for a little assistance. - -But that was the beginning of the end of Mary Lane’s priggishness, -and the first step toward a higher education in the true sense of the -word. She passed her entrance examinations with honors, due, perhaps, -to the patient coaching she received during the rest of the summer from -Blanche Hallsey. She learned, too, besides irregular verbs, a great -many other things fully as useful, topping off with what the college -girl called “a classical course in cookery.” - - - - -CHEERFULNESS - - - A merry heart, a smiling face, - Are better far than sunny weather; - A noble life and charming grace, - Like leaves and flowers, grow well together. - - --_Carter._ - - - - -LITTLE POLLY PRENTISS - -BY ELIZABETH LINCOLN GOULD - - -CHAPTER XV - -ARCTURA’S STORY - -[Illustration] - - SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. - - Polly Prentiss is an orphan who, for the greater part of her life, has - lived with a distant relative, Mrs. Manser, the mistress of Manser - Farm. Miss Hetty Pomeroy, a maiden lady of middle age, has, ever since - the death of her favorite niece, been on the lookout for a little - girl whom she might adopt. She is attracted by Polly’s appearance and - quaint manners, and finally decides to take her home and keep her - for a month’s trial. In the foregoing chapters, Polly has arrived at - her new home, and the great difference between the way of living at - Pomeroy Oaks and her past life affords her much food for wonderment. - In the meantime Miss Pomeroy has inwardly decided that she will keep - Polly with her, but as yet she has not spoken to the little girl of - her intention. - -Arctura’s prediction came true, for the first sound Polly heard when -she woke the next morning was a soft, steady patter on her window-pane; -the trunk of the elm tree was wet and black as if it had been raining -all night. Polly was reminded of that stormy afternoon not quite two -weeks ago when she had sat close to Uncle Blodgett in the old shed at -Manser Farm and heard him tell about his brave young nephew who had -gone to the war and died for his country. - -“I wonder if they miss me?” thought the little girl at Pomeroy Oaks. -“Maybe they do, because they used to say I made all the noise there -was in the house. It seems a pretty long time till next winter, but -if I get real well acquainted with Miss Pomeroy so I can tell her -that my loving the Manser Farm folks won’t make me stop wanting to be -like Eleanor, maybe she’ll let me go to see them by Thanksgiving. I -wonder how my rag dollie likes it up in the garret in that tight box -where Mrs. Manser put her. I expect she’s lonesome, poor dolly! And -Ebenezer--I don’t persume anybody gets down on the floor to play with -him, because they’ve all got rheumatism except Mrs. Manser, and she has -pains in her head.” - -There was no trip to the village for Miss Pomeroy and Polly that -morning. Toward noon Hiram drove off in the light wagon, holding a -large umbrella over his head, and returned well splashed with mud an -hour or so later. - -Polly spent part of the morning in the library with Miss Pomeroy, -darning some stockings and a rent in the old red frock. Miss Pomeroy -had a book in her hands, but almost every time the little girl looked -up from her work she found the keen, gray eyes fixed on her face, and -it made her uneasy. She thought there must be something unsatisfactory -about her appearance, for her kind friend looked grave and troubled. -Polly decided to speak. - -“My hair isn’t quite as flat as it is sometimes,” she ventured, after a -long silence. “Mrs. Manser used to say that she believed Satan got into -it when the weather was damp, and perhaps he does. I suppose the nicest -folks all have straight hair, don’t they, Miss Pomeroy?” - -The only answer was a smile and a stroke of the brown curls, and Polly -was instantly confirmed in her opinion, while Miss Hetty’s mind was far -away. - -“But, perhaps, as I get more and more like Eleanor, my hair will change -just as my cheeks are changing,” she thought, hopefully. “And I think -I’m stretching out a little bit, too, practicing the way Ebenezer did.” - -The library was a delightful room, but the hour with Arctura before the -kitchen fire in the afternoon had a different sort of charm for Polly. - -“You’re so comfortable, Miss Arctura,” she said, confidingly, to Miss -Green, when they were fairly settled with their work. Polly’s task was -an iron-holder, and that of her hostess the flaming sock designed for -Hiram’s ample foot. Miss Pomeroy was in her room, writing letters; she -had many correspondents in the world outside the little town, and they -kept her busy. Besides that, she had a purpose in leaving Polly with -the faithful Arctura a good deal of the time. - -“The child is happier with you, and I want her to be happy,” she said, -with perfect frankness. “She’s a little afraid of me for some reason, -and though it hurts my vanity, I don’t want to hurry her confidence. I -believe I shall win it in time.” - -“Of course, you will,” said Arctura, stoutly. “I can’t quite make her -out sometimes. She’ll seem real gay for a few minutes and then sober -down all of a sudden, as if she remembered something. She’s just as -anxious to please you as ever a child could be. Do you suppose that -Manser woman could have scared her any way? Told her you were set on -having her act any particular way, or anything?” - -Miss Pomeroy’s life had been singularly apart from the current of -village gossip; she stared blankly at this suggestion and then shook -her head. - -“It wouldn’t be possible,” she said, decidedly. “Mrs. Manser never -spoke to me until I waylaid her after church that Sunday, three or -four weeks ago. And there is nobody to tell her anything of me or -my ways of living. She simply knows that I took a fancy to Mary, -and--since yesterday--that I wish to adopt her.” - -“M-m,” said Arctura, softly, as Miss Pomeroy turned away. “I shouldn’t -want to be too sure what folks know and what they don’t, in any place -where there’s a post-office, two meat-men, and a baker’s cart.” - -“I’ve written my letter to go with the candy to-morrow morning,” said -Polly, as she basted a strip of turkey-red binding around a square of -ticking after Miss Green’s instructions. “It took me ’most an hour and -a half by the big clock, and I made four blots and had to look in the -dictionary three times, and now I expect it’s just full of mistakes. I -carried it to Miss Pomeroy, but she said she wanted Aunty Peebles to -have the first reading of it, and she helped me seal it with a great -splotch of red sealing-wax, and marked it with her big stamp.” - -“Won’t it mix ’em all up to see a ‘P’ on the letter?” inquired Arctura. -“Why, no; what am I thinking of? ‘P’ stands for Prentiss just as well -as Pomeroy.” - -“Yes, and for--for other names, too,” said Polly, remembering just in -time. “Polly Perkins--that’s in your song--it stands for both of her -names.” - -“To be sure it does,” said Arctura. Then the chairs rocked in silence -for a few minutes. Arctura stole a glance at the face so near hers. The -little mouth was shut firmly, but there was a downward droop at the -corners, and it certainly appeared to Arctura that something glistened -in the long lashes that hid the great brown eyes. - -“H-m--it’s a kind of a dull day for little folks and big folks, too,” -she said, poking vigorously at the ashes in the grate with her back to -Polly. “I don’t know as there’ll ever come a better time for me to tell -you about the Square and me when I was your age.” - -When she turned around the brown eyes were shining to match the eager -voice, and Arctura smiled with satisfaction. - -“This occurred forty-five years ago,” she began, briskly. “I might as -well break it to you that I’m all but fifty-five. I suppose you’ve met -folks as old as that, haven’t you?” - -“Why, everybody at Manser Farm is ever and ever so much older, except -Mrs. Manser and Father Manser, and Bob Rust,” said Polly, earnestly. -“They’re all traveling on toward their end, Uncle Blodgett says, and -he doesn’t care how soon he gets his marching orders for the heavenly -land, but I care,” and the brown curls danced, “for I just love Uncle -Blodgett.” - -“I’m glad to hear it,” said Arctura, heartily. “Well now, about the -Square and me. You see, my mother--‘marm,’ we all called her--was a -notable cook. I don’t approach her on pie crust nor muffins, and there -was a sort of rye drop cake,” said Miss Green, lowering her voice, -“that nobody but her could ever make. And she was a great one to invent -cake receipts, and then invite folks in to take a dish of tea in the -afternoon and test the new cake. - -“The Square’s wife was a good deal younger than he--she’d only be -seventy if she was alive to-day, while he was eighty-five when he -died--and she’d often accept marm’s invitations, and come to our old -house--’twas burned years ago--and spend the best part of an afternoon -just as friendly as you please. Not that ’twas any great come down, -either,” said Arctura, with proper pride, “for my marm was of excellent -stock, and I’m the first woman in the family records to work for pay. - -“But that’s nothing to do with the story. One morning when John and I -were starting off for school--Hiram was only a baby--marm gave us each -an errand to do on the way. I can remember I stood barefoot in the -grass--what did you say?” as Polly made a sound. - -“Nothing but ‘oh!’” said Polly, quickly. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, -Miss Arctura.” - -“Never mind, I’m glad to have you take an interest,” said the -story-teller. “I can remember standing there in the grass waiting -for John, and saying over and over to myself, ‘Please, Mrs. Pomeroy, -marm sends her compliments and would like to have--no, that isn’t -right--please, Mrs. Pomeroy, marm sends her compliments and would be -happy to have you take tea with her this afternoon.’ - -“Pretty soon John came running out, and we took hold of hands and -started for school. John said marm had told him to get an ounce of -camphor at the store, and he was wishing she’d said a pound instead of -such a stingy little mite, and I had to set forth to him how much an -ounce of camphor could do before he was anyways reconciled. - -“We had nearly two miles to go to school, and that morning when we got -to the fork in the woods I ran across lots to get there quicker, and -John went on down to the store. It was way out at the corners, not -where the Burcham block is now,” explained Arctura. “Folks expected the -village would grow this way, but it went the other. - -“I ran to the front door, as marm had charged me to, and reached up -for the knocker and gave it a good bang. And what should I see but -the Square, instead of Mrs. Pomeroy that I was prepared for. He was -tall and stern looking, and my ideas just fled away when I saw him, -but I managed to remember my manners. I dropped a courtesy and said, -‘Please, marm wants Mrs. Pomeroy’s tea, and she’d be happy to have her -compliments this afternoon.’” - -“Then it came over me what I’d said, and with being scared and all I -began to cry. And the Square just reached down and took my hand and led -me into the house, and Mrs. Pomeroy understood the message right off, -and said she’d be most happy to come. The Square kept hold of my hand -all the time, and when the message was straightened out he said, ‘May I -walk with you as far as our ways lie together, my little maid?’” - -“Oh, wasn’t that beautiful!” cried Polly. “‘May I walk with you as far -as our ways lie together, my little maid?’ That’s something like Mr. -Shakespeare’s works that Uncle Blodgett has.” - -“’Twas pretty fine talk, I think myself,” said Miss Green, “and ’twas -followed up by finer, though I can’t recall anything else word for -word. But we kept together hand in hand, he taking long strides and I -running alongside, as you might say, till we reached a house where the -Square had to stop. He took off his hat to me when he said good-bye -and shook my hand, and said, ‘I beg you to accept this trifling -remembrance, my little maid,’ and when I came to, there was a shining -gold-piece in my hand.” - -“‘I beg you to accept this trifling remembrance, my little maid,’” -repeated Polly. “I think that’s even beautifuller than what he said at -first. I guess Uncle Blodgett and Grandma Manser, too, would like to -hear that. They love beautiful language.” - -“When I got to school,” continued Arctura, after an appreciative -smile at Polly, “John was in the middle of a group of children on the -green. He’d taken off his coat and was showing ’em his first pair of -‘galluses’--bright red, they were, about the shade of this very yarn. -One of the children ran up to me and said, ‘I suppose your brother John -thinks he’s a man now, for he says his suspenders are just like your -father’s.’” - -“I never answered her, but I just opened out my palm to let her see -the gold-piece, and I said, ‘The Square walked with me ’way to Mrs. -Brown’s, and gave me this.’” - -“John had considerable interest for the boys that day, but the girls -were all taken up with me, and for weeks afterward when we got tired -playing, somebody’d say, ‘Arctura, now you tell about your marm’s -message, and the Square walking part way to school with you.’” - -“Oh, I think it was ever so much more interesting than John’s -suspenders,” said Polly, breathlessly. “I never heard anything so -wonderful that happened to a little girl, Miss Arctura.” - -Miss Green loosened the ruffle at her neck and slowly drew up a slender -chain on the end of which something dangled. - -“Suspenders wear out, even the best of ’em,” she said, softly leaning -toward her little guest. “You look at that. My father bored a hole in -it, and marm gave me this chain that was her marm’s, and I’ve worn it -from that day to this.” - -“And mind you,” said Miss Green, as Polly looked with awe at the little -gold-piece, kept shining by Arctura’s loving care, “whenever the Square -was a mite cross or unreasonable those last years, from his mind -getting tangled, I’d put my hand over this little dangling thing, and -I’d say to myself, ‘Arctura Green, who gave you the proudest day you -ever knew as a little girl?’ and ’twould warm my heart up in a minute. -There’s some that forgets, but, with all my faults, I ain’t one of the -number.” - - -CHAPTER XVI - -POLLY’S LETTER - -When Father Manser returned from his trip to the post-office the next -evening he found the residents at Manser Farm, with the exception of -his melancholy spouse, gathered in the kitchen. Mrs. Manser had gone -to bed with a headache, but her absence failed to cast a gloom over -the company. It was the most cheerful evening that had been known -since Polly left them, for Uncle Blodgett had not only read the weekly -“Sentinel” in so clear a tone that even Grandma Manser, near whom he -sat, could hear, but he had, after urging, recited several poems. - -“I admire to hear battle-pieces,” said Aunty Peebles, just as the door -swung open to admit Father Manser. “When you spoke that ‘Charge of the -Light Brigade’ it gave me chills all along my spine, and made me feel -as if I could step right forth to war.” - -“I expect you wouldn’t be a very murderous character, though, come to -get you on the field of battle,” said Uncle Blodgett, good-naturedly. -“Now, there’s Mis’ Ramsdell, I reckon she’d make a good fighter if she -was put to it.” - -“I come of war stock,” said Mrs. Ramsdell, her black eyes snapping, and -nostrils dilating as she acknowledged the compliment. “My father and -his three brothers were in the war of 1812, and back of that their -parents and uncles were in the thick of ’76, and led wherever they -were.” - -“Ain’t you kind of reckless, speaking of ‘parents’ that way?” inquired -Uncle Blodgett. “Did your grandmarm conduct a regiment, or what was her -part in the proceedings?” - -Mrs. Ramsdell directed a look of withering scorn at her old friend, but -her eye caught sight of a package in Father Manser’s hand and she was -suddenly alert. - -“What you got there?” she demanded, and at once all the old heads -turned toward the new-comer. - -Usually they took no special note of Father Manser’s return, as there -were scarcely ever any letters, and they well knew the paper must be -Mrs. Manser’s spoil for the evening. - -“It’s a box,” said Father Manser, turning the package over and over in -his hand. - -“We can all see that,” said Mrs. Ramsdell, sharply. - -“And it seems to be directed to Miss Anne Peebles,” proceeded Father -Manser, taking no offence. - -Aunty Peebles began to tremble with excitement as the box was handed -to her, and a flush rose in the other old faces as the group closed -in around the table, so that the lamp might shed its light on this -surprising package. - -“If you could wait till I’ve taken the paper in to Mrs. Manser, I’ve -got a sharp knife that would cut those fastenings,” said Father Manser, -wistfully. “Her door’s closed, and I won’t be but a minute. I won’t -speak of the package, and I’ll mention that the fire needs more wood, -for I see it does.” - -“I’ll wait,” said Aunty Peebles, and spurred by a “Hurry up, then, for -goodness’ sake!” from Mrs. Ramsdell, Father Manser sped off with the -paper. - -“It’s Polly’s writing,” said Uncle Blodgett, after a long squint at -the address on the brown paper covering of the box. “I’ve got one of -her exercises that the teacher said she might keep--one of that last -batch, if I haven’t lost it.” - -Uncle Blodgett drew from his coat pocket a long, flat wallet, and took -out of it a piece of paper carefully creased and bearing evidences of -frequent handling. He spread it out close to the box, so that all might -see. - -“You mark that cross on the T,” he said, triumphantly. “She begins it -with a kind of a hook, different from most that you’d see. I--I noticed -it the day she made me a gift of the paper,” said Uncle Blodgett, as he -replaced his treasure in the wallet. - -“The box is from Polly Prentiss,” cried Mrs. Ramsdell in Grandma -Manser’s ear. “I guess your daughter-in-law’s made a mistake about -her forgetting us, after all.” Then the old lady put her arm through -Grandma Manser’s and pressed her fiercely as if to make amends for this -reference to the doubting one. “’Taint as if she was your daughter, -dear heart,” she said, remorsefully. - -When the string had at last given way--Father Manser had slashed it -recklessly in half a dozen places in his haste--and the box cover was -lifted, there lay the letter on which Polly had spent so much time and -thought, with seven chocolate drops on it. Aunty Peebles passed the box -around and each of the company took a piece of candy; even Bob Rust had -his portion, which he carried to his favorite seat near the door into -the shed, and handled as if it were something rare and wonderful, as, -indeed, it was to him. - -Father Manser set his wife’s piece carefully aside. Nobody failed for a -moment to understand little Polly’s loving thought for them all. Below -the letter lay row after row of the chocolates, but they could wait. - -“Now we’ve--ahem!--eaten part of the message,” said Uncle Blodgett, -gruffly, “suppose you read us the rest of it, Mis’ Peebles. Seems to be -some time since we’ve heard direct from the child.” - -Aunty Peebles’s voice quavered many times during the reading, and there -was a frank use of handkerchiefs at some points, but the interest in -Polly’s letter never flagged. - - “Dear folks at Manser Farm,” read Aunty Peebles, “this is a beautiful - place and every one is very kind to me. How do you all do, and is - Ebyneezer well and the other Animals? The minister came to dinner - Sunday, that was why I was so late and you had gone, but I heard the - Wagon up the hill. This is a beautiful place, with big trees, and in - the house there are books and books and Cabbynets with kurous Shells - and other things. And there is silver that shines, and my bed and - chairs are white with a pink Strype. Mrs. Manser, I am being careful - of my Close and I allways wear an apron. There are two little kittens - here. Their names are Snip and Snap. - - “When folks have such a beautiful place I guess they do not care much - about going out-doors, but there is a Pyaza and I walk on that a great - deal, beside I have been to walk down the road most every day with - Miss Pomeroy and she is just as good to me! And once I have been in - the Woods with Miss Arctura, and she said ‘next time,’ so that means - we are going again. Mr. Hiram that is her brother can resite pieces - and he is teaching me On Linden when the Sun was Low, Uncle Blodgett - do you know that piece? He says he would give all his boot buttons - to hear you resite Mr. Shakespeer’s Works. I do not think I have - spelled that name right. Perhaps I can see you all before Christmas, - but perhaps I cannot, for I am going to be adopted. Do you miss me, - Grandma Manser and Mrs. Ramsdell? Do you miss me, Uncle Blodgett? and - Aunty Peebles do you miss me? This is a beautiful place, and I read - and sew and play with the kittens and Miss Pomeroy says I am a quiet - little girl, Mrs. Manser. Father Manser do you remember giving me - Pepermints? I hope you will all like this Candy. I have been to the - Village once with Miss Pomeroy, but I did not see any folks I knew. - - “I hope Grandma Manser will have her ear Trumpet pretty soon. Aunty - Peebles I love that Cushion I look at it very many times, and Uncle - Blodgett Mr. Hiram will have that knife fixed for a Present he says. - Now I must say Goodbye with heaps and heaps of love. I put Aunty - Peebles’ name on this because she admires to get things through the - Post Office. - - “Mary Prentiss.” - - “Miss Pomeroy is not going to look at this. I am trying to be just - like Ellynor, but I expect I am not. Will you please call me Polly to - yourselves? Nobody here knows it ever was my name.” - -The last few lines were evidently written in great haste. Polly had run -upstairs to add them when she found the letter would not be inspected. -There was a short silence when the last word had been read. Mrs. -Ramsdell fidgeted in her chair. - -“She seems to be real contented and happy, don’t she?” said Father -Manser, looking from one to another for confirmation of his views. “I -guess they’re mighty kind to her.” - -“Kind! who wouldn’t be kind to that darling little thing, I’d like to -know?” snapped Mrs. Ramsdell. “But she’s grieving for all the folks -she’s been used to, and trying not to let anybody know it. It isn’t -that we’re such remarkable folks, but it’s because she’s such a loving -little thing; that’s the reason of it.” - -“What do they mean by keeping her housed up so?” demanded Uncle -Blodgett, sternly. “They’ll have her sick of a fever next thing we -know. Out-doors has been the breath of her living and her joy. I guess -what those folks need is somebody to make a few points clear to ’em. -What was this Eleanor the child talks of, that she should be set up for -a pattern? Wa’n’t she mortal like all the rest of us?” - -“Mrs. Manser says Miss Pomeroy thought she was perfection,” ventured -Father Manser, as nobody else seemed prepared with an answer. “She used -to talk with Polly about her, every day before she went, advising her -what she’d better do--Mrs. Manser did.” - -“I’ll warrant she did,” said Uncle Blodgett, bitterly. “That’s the -whole root of the trouble. Now, you mark my words, all of you women -folks”--Uncle Blodgett evidently included poor Father Manser in his -summing up--“I’m going to have speech with that Pomeroy woman before -many more days have gone over my head, and I’m going to set a few -things straight. As for having that child carry the weight of this -whole establishment, leaks, ear-trumpets, shingles, and all on her -mind, and try to live up to nobody knows what--I won’t stand it!” - -“What do you plan?” asked Mrs. Ramsdell, with unwonted respect. - -“I shall fare down to the village with Father here,” said Uncle -Blodgett, indicating the object of his choice with a careless nod, “and -if she doesn’t happen to drive in that morning, I shall foot it to -Pomeroy Oaks. My legs are good for a little matter of three miles or -so.” - -“It’s a good four miles, as I remember it,” muttered Mrs. Ramsdell. - -“Well, call it four, then,” roared Uncle Blodgett in a sudden fury. -“Call it five or six or ten if you’ve a mind. My legs are good for it, -I tell ye. And if I have to foot it there,” he added, turning quickly -on poor Father Manser, “you may say to your wife I’ve gone a-visiting -an old friend for the afternoon. If Polly Prentiss ain’t an old friend, -I haven’t got one in this world.” - -Uncle Blodgett sat heavily down in his chair, exhausted by his unwonted -outbreak, but Mrs. Ramsdell stepped over to him and held out her hand. - -“If I was five years younger,” said the old lady, whose age nobody -knew, “I’d put on my bonnet and shawl and foot it with you!” - - -[TO BE CONTINUED] - - - - -A Novel Weapon - - -In her interesting book, _A Woman Tenderfoot_, Mrs. Ernest -Thompson-Seton gives a stirring account of her fight with a -rattlesnake, in which she, the victor, was armed with a very novel -weapon--a frying-pan. - -“The rattler stopped his pretty gliding motion away from me and seemed -in doubt. Then he began to take on a few quirks. ‘He is going to coil -and then to strike,’ said I, recalling a paragraph from my school -reader. It was an unhappy moment! - -“I knew that tradition had fixed the proper weapons to be used against -rattlesnakes: a stone (more, if necessary), a stick (forked one -preferred), and, in rare cases, a revolver. I had no revolver. There -was not a stick in sight, and not a stone bigger than a hazelnut; but -there was the rattler. I cast another despairing glance around and saw, -almost at my feet and half hidden by sage brush, several inches of -rusty iron--blessed be the teamster who had thrown it there. I darted -towards it, and, despite tradition, turned on the rattler, armed with -the goodly remains of a--frying-pan. - -“The horrid thing was ready for me with darting tongue and flattened -head--another instant it would have sprung. Smash! on its head went my -valiant frying-pan and struck a deadly blow, although the thing managed -to get from under it. I recaptured my weapon and again it descended -upon the reptile’s head, settling it this time. - -“Feeling safe, I now took hold of the handle to finish it more quickly. -Oh! that tail--that awful, writhing, lashing tail. I can stand Indians, -bears, wolves, anything but that tail, and a rattler is all tail, -except its head. If that tail touches me I shall let go. It did touch -me. I did not let go. Pride held me there, for I heard the sound of -galloping hoofs. Whiskers’ empty saddle had alarmed the rest of the -party. - -“My snake was dead now, so I put one foot on him to take his scalp--his -rattles, I mean--when horrid thrills coursed through me. The uncanny -thing began to wriggle and rattle with old-time vigor. But, fortified -by Nimrod’s assurance that it was ‘purely reflex neuro-ganglionic -movement,’ I hardened my heart and captured his ‘pod of dry peas.’” - - - - -HOW PLANTS LIVE - -By Julia McNair Wright - - -In the hot August days, when the air scarcely stirs, the birds sit -silent in their coverts, the cattle stand under the thickest shade or -knee-deep in the ponds. Only the insects seem to rejoice in the burning -rays of the sun, and gayly hover around the splendid profusion of -flowers. - -In this season we may make various studies in plant life. Seated upon -some shady veranda, we have the glory of the garden spread out before -us. Or we may be on some hill, tree-crowned, not far from the sea; -we find within hand reach golden-rod, asters, milfoil, blazing-star, -indigo. Looking down the gentle slope to the level land, we see -black-eyed Susan flaunting beside St. John’s wort and wild snap-dragon. -Yonder, the little brooklet slips along without a ripple, cherishing on -its border loosestrife and jewel-weed. Out in the roadway, defiant of -the summer dust, almost in the wheel track, the mullein lifts its dry, -gray foliage and unfolds its tardy pairs of clear yellow bloom beside -that exquisite flower, the evening primrose, of which the harsh, dusty -stem and leaves are such rude contrast to the fragrant salvers of pale -gold--the blossom of one night. - -We have ample opportunity in some or all of these to study the motion, -food, and some of the varied products of the plant world. - -Motion? What motions have plants other than as the wind sways them? -True, there is an upward motion: they grow up inch after inch, foot -after foot, the law of growth overcoming the law of gravitation. The -sap rises in the vessels by root-pressure, by capillary attraction, by -the forming of a vacuum in the leaf-cells, by evaporation, and so the -climbing sap builds up the plant. This getting up in the world is not a -trifle in plant life any more than in human life. - -Many a plant seems to have an extreme ambition to rise, and if its -stem proves too weak to support any decided advancement in growth, it -takes measures to secure aid. It twines, bodily, perhaps, around the -nearest support, as do the trumpet-creeper and honeysuckle; it modifies -leaves into tendrils, as does the sweet pea; it puts forth aerial roots -at its nodes, as does the ivy; it elongates a leaf stem to wrap around -and around some proffered stay, as does the clematis, or diverts a bud -for such purpose, as the grape-vine. - -Other plants of lowlier mind creep along the ground. The prince’s pine -forms a strong, thick mat, cleaving to every root, twig, grass-stem, in -its way, striking rootlets here and there, until only a strong hand and -a firm wrench can drag it from the earth, its mother. Cinque-foil and -its cousin, strawberry, send out runners from all sides, which root and -shoot up new plants until the whole bed is a solidarity, and would so -remain did not the thankless plants keep all the food and moisture for -themselves, and deliver over the runners to death by starvation. - -The walking fern has a most original way of getting over the ground. It -bends its slender frond and starts a root by extending the tip of the -mid-rib; so it sets up a new plant and is anchored fast on all sides -by its rooted frond tips, covering the ground with a rich carpet of -verdure. The variety of runners along the ground is as great as the -climber. All motion of the plant is a form of growth. The plant grows -by day and by night, but more by day, as light and heat are incentives -to growth. - -Interesting as is the study of plant motion, let us forsake it and -consider for a little plant food. The plant receives food from earth, -water, and air. The earth gives the plant sulphur, iron, soda, -magnesia, phosphorus, and other mineral substances. These are all fed -to the plant in a solution of water. - -From the rain the plant receives as food hydrogen and forms of ammonia. - -From air the plants absorb carbon, oxygen, nitrogen, and ammonia; very -much of the first, little of the second, and very little of the others. - -When plants grow out-of-doors, the winds, dews, and rains free the -leaves from accumulations of dust which obstruct the pores and hinder -the receiving of food. In very dry and dusty seasons we notice that the -plants become sickly from the stopping of the pores. Plants need clean -skins as human beings do. - -House plants should be well washed all over now and then, to admit of -their getting their proper amount of food from the air. - -[Illustration: INSECT EATERS] - -Certain classes of plants use a portion of animal food. We are -accustomed to the idea of animals eating plants, but when we see the -tables turned, and the plants eating animals, that is queer, indeed! -The animal food of the “flesh-eating,” or carnivorous, plants is really -the juice sucked from the bodies of insects. - -The sun dew, common in marshes, expands a little, sticky, pink-green -shirt-button of a leaf, on which are numerous stiff hairs. The clear -drops of gum attract insects to the leaf, and they are held by the feet -or wings. Their struggles cause the leaf to fold together, when the -hairs pierce the body of the insect and drink up the juices. When only -a dry husk remains the leaf opens and the wind shakes the shell away. - -The pitcher-plant invites insects by a honey-like secretion. They fall -into the liquid stored in the pitcher and are thus drowned, because, -owing to numerous downward-pointing hairs in the throat of the pitcher, -they cannot climb back. Easy is the descent into evil! The acrid liquid -in the pitcher digests the bodies of the insects, turning them into -plant food. Flies, ants, gnats, little beetles, are often caught, but -bees very seldom. Bees have their own affairs to attend to, and cannot -go picnicing into pitcher-plants. - -[Illustration] - - - - -A DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST - -By Evelyn Raymond - - -Chapter XVI - -Science and Superstition - - - SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. - - Brought up in the forests of northern Maine, and seeing few persons - excepting her uncle and Angelique, the Indian housekeeper, Margot - Romeyn knows little of life beyond the deep hemlocks. Naturally - observant, she is encouraged in her out-of-door studies by her uncle, - at one time a college professor. Through her woodland instincts, she - and her uncle are enabled to save the life of Adrian Wadislaw, a youth - who, lost and almost overcome with hunger, has been wandering in the - neighboring forest. To Margot the new friend is a welcome addition - to her small circle of acquaintances, and after his rapid recovery - she takes great delight in showing him the many wonders of the forest - about her home. But finally, after many weeks, the uncle decides, - because of reasons which will be known later, that it would be better - for Margot if Adrian left them. Accordingly, he puts the matter before - the young man, who, although reluctant to leave his new friends, - volunteers to go. Under the guidance of Pierre Ricord, a young Indian, - the lad sets out for the nearest settlement. The journey for the most - part is made by water, and while attempting to shoot the rapids of the - stream which they have been following their canoe is dashed against a - rock and both occupants are thrown into the seething whirlpool. - -For an instant Adrian closed his eyes that he might not see the -inevitable end. But--was it inevitable? At the logging camp he had -heard of just such accidents as this and not all of them were fatal. -The water in its whirling sometimes tossed that which it had caught -outward to safety. - -He flung himself prone and extended the pole. Pierre’s body was making -another circuit of that horrible pit, and when--if--should it? The -drowning boy’s head was under the current, but his legs swung round -upon its surface, faster and faster, as they drew nearer the centre. - -Then--a marvel! The long pole was thrust under the invisible arms, -which closed upon it as a vise. - -“Hold! hold! I’ll pull you out!” - -But for the hard labor of the past few weeks, Adrian’s muscles could -not have stood the strain. Yet they did, and as he drew the nearly -senseless Pierre upon the rock beside himself, his soul went up in such -glad thanksgiving as he had never known or might know again. A life -saved. That was worth all things. - -For an hour they lay there, resting, recovering; then Pierre himself -stood up to see what chance there was for a fuller deliverance. He was -a very sober and altered Pierre, and his drenched clothing added to the -forlornness of his appearance. - -“Nothing left but--us. Came nigh bein’ only you. Say, Adrian, I -sha--shan’t forget it.” - -“How are we going to get ashore?” - -“’Tisn’t much harder ’n Margot’s stepping-stones. Done them times -enough.” - -Again Adrian was grateful for his forest experience; but he asked with -some anxiety: - -“Suppose you are strong enough to do it?” - -“Isn’t any supposin’ about it. Got to. Might as well died in the pool -as starve on this rock.” - -Adrian didn’t see that there was much better than starvation before -them, even if they did reach shore, but he kept his fear to himself. -Besides, it was not probable that they had been saved from the flood to -perish in the forest. They would better look at the bright side of the -situation, if they hoped to find such. - -“I can jump them.” - -“So can I.” - -“Don’t let go that pole. I mean to keep that as long as I live--’less -you want it yourself. If you do--” - -“No, Pierre. It belongs to you, and doubly now. Which should go -first--you or I?” - -“Draw lots. If that one falls in, the other must fish him out. Only we -won’t try it on this side, by the pool.” - -They carefully surveyed the crossing, almost as dangerous an affair as -shooting the rapids had been. Yet, as Pierre had said, they “had to.” - -Adrian picked a bit of floating weed that had swept within his reach -and broke it into unequal portions. The shortest bit fell to him, and -with as cheerful a “Here goes!” as he could muster he sprang for the -next stone. He made it more easily than he had hoped, and saw that -his best chance lay in looking straight ahead to the next landing -point--and the next--never down at the swirling river. - -“Landed. Come!” - -Pierre was heavier but more practiced than his mate, and in a few -seconds the two stood together on the shore, regarding the ruins of -their boat and thinking of what they would not have for supper. - -All at once Pierre’s eye brightened. - -“Say! there’s been a camp here. Not so long ago, either. See that -barrel in the brush? There’s an old birch shed yonder. Hurrah!” - -They did not linger, though Adrian kept hoping that something from -their lost outfit might be tossed outward toward them, even as Pierre -had been; but nothing came in sight, and he reached the dilapidated -shed only a few feet behind the other. - -“There’s a bed left still, but not such a soft one. And there’s pork in -that barrel. Wonder the hedgehogs haven’t found it.” - -But as Pierre thrust his nose into the depths of the cask he understood -the reason of its safety. - -“Whew! even a porkypine wouldn’t touch that. Never mind. Reckon our -boots’ll need greasing after that ducking, or mine will, and it’ll -answer. Anything under the shed?” - -“Don’t see anything. Wait. Yes, I do. A canvas bag hung up high. Must -have been forgotten when the campers left, for they took everything -else. Clean sweep. Hurrah! it’s beans!” - -“Good! Beans are good fodder for hungry cattle.” - -“How can you eat such hard things? Should think they’d been resurrected -from the pyramids.” - -“Well, I don’t know ‘pyramids,’ but I do know beans, and how to cook -them. Fall to. Let’s get a fire. I’m near froze.” - -“Fire? Can you make one?” - -“I can try and--I’ve got to. When needs must, you know.” - -Adrian hastily collected some dry twigs and decaying chips and heaped -them in the sunniest place, but for this was promptly reprimanded by -the shivering Pierre. - -“Don’t you know anything at all? Wood won’t light, nor burn after -’tis lighted, in the sunshine. Stick up something to shade the stuff, -whilst--” - -He illustrated what he did not further say by carefully selecting some -hard stones and briskly rubbing them together. A faint spark resulted -and a thistledown caught the spark. To the thistledown he held a dried -grass blade and another. By this small beginning they had soon a tiny -blaze and very soon a comforting fire. - -When they were partially dried and rested, said Pierre: - -“Now, fetch on your beans. While they’re cooking, we’ll take account of -what is left.” - -Adrian brought the bag, refraining from any questions this time. He -was wondering and watchful. Pierre’s misadventures were developing -unsuspected resources, and the spirits of both lads rose again to the -normal. - -“You’re so fond of splitting birch for pictures, split me some now for -a bucket, while I sharpen this knife again. Lucky for me, my pocket -buttoned, else it would have gone to the bottom of that pool. Got -yours?” - -“Yes. I didn’t fall in, you know.” - -“Then I don’t ask odds of anybody. I’d rather have a good ax, but when -I can’t get my rather I take the next best thing.” - -Adrian procured the strips of birch, which grows so plentifully to hand -in all that woodland, and when Pierre had trimmed it into the desired -shape he deftly rolled it and tied it with stout rootlets, and behold! -there was a shapely sort of kettle, with a twig for a handle. But of -what use it might be the city lad had yet to learn. - -Pierre filled the affair with water and put into it a good handful of -the beans. Then he fixed a crotched stick over his fire and hung the -birch kettle upon it. - -“Oh! don’t waste them. I know. I saw Angelique soak them, as they did -at camp. I know, now. If we can’t cook them we can make them swell up -in water, and starving men can exist on such food till they reach a -settlement. Of course, we’ll start as soon as you’re all right.” - -“We’ll start when we’re ready. That’s after we’ve had something to eat -and made our new canoe. Never struck a spot where there was likelier -birches. ’Twon’t be the first one I’ve built or seen built. Say! seems -as if that God that Margot is always saying takes care of folks must -have had a hand in this. Don’t it?” - -“Yes, it does,” answered Adrian, reverently. Surely, Pierre was a -changed and better lad. - -Then his eyes rested on the wooden dinner-pot, and to his astonishment -it was not burning, but hung steadily in its place and the water in -it was already beginning to simmer. Above the water-line the bark -shriveled and scorched slightly, but Pierre looked out for this and -with a scoop made from a leaf replenished the water as it steamed away. -The beans, too, were swelling and gave every promise of cooking--in -due course of time. Meanwhile, the cook rolled himself over and about -in the warmth of the fire till his clothes were dry and all the cold -had left his body. Also, he had observed Adrian’s surprise with a -pardonable pride. - -“Lose an Indian in the woods and he’s as rich as a lord. It’s the -Indian in me coming out now.” - -“It’s an extra sense. Divination, instinct--something better than -education.” - -“What the master calls ‘woodcraft.’ Yes. Wonder how he is, and all of -them? Say, what do you think I thought about when I was whirling round -that pool, before I didn’t think of anything?” - -“Your sins, I suppose. That’s what I’ve heard comes to a drowning man.” - -“Shucks! Saw the mére’s face when she broke that glass. Fact. Though -I wasn’t there at the time. And one thing more; saw that ridiculous -Xanthippé, looking like she’s never done a thing but warble. Oh, my! -how I do wish Margot’d sell her.” - -“Shall I help you get birch for the canoe now? I begin to believe you -can do even that, you are so clever.” - -This praise was sweet in Pierre’s vain ears and had the result which -Adrian desired, of diverting the talk from their island friends. In -their present situation, hopeful as the other pretended to find it, he -felt it best for his own peace of mind not to recall loved and absent -faces. - -They went to work with a will, and will it was that helped them; -else with the poor tools at hand they had never accomplished their -undertaking. Indeed, it was a labor of considerable time. Not only was -that first meal of boiled beans cooked and eaten, but several more of -the same sort followed. To vary these, Pierre baked some, in the same -method as he had boiled them, or else in the ashes of their fire. He -even fashioned a sort of hook from a coat button, and with cedar roots -for a line, caught a fish now and then. But they craved the seasoning -of salt, and even the dessert of blueberries which nature provided -them could not satisfy this longing, which grew almost intolerable to -Adrian’s civilized palate. - -“Queer, isn’t it? When I was at that lumber camp I nearly died because -all the meat, or nearly all, was so salt. Got so I couldn’t eat -anything, hardly. Now, just because I haven’t salt I can’t eat, either.” - -“Indians not that way. Indians eat one thing same’s another. Indian -just wants to live; don’t care about the rest. Indian never eats too -much. I’m all Indian now.” - -Adrian opened his eyes to their widest, then threw himself back and -laughed till the tears came. - -“Pierre, Pierre! Would you had been ‘all Indian’ when you tackled -Angelique’s fried chicken. Um-m! I can taste it now.” - -But at length the new canoe was ready. They had put as few ribs into -it as would suffice to hold it in shape, and Pierre had carefully sewn -it with the roots of the black cedar, which serves the woodsman for so -many purposes where thread or twine is needed. They had made a paddle -and a pole as well as they could with their knives, and, having nothing -to pack except themselves and their small remnant of beans, made their -last camp-fire at that spot and lay down to sleep. - -But the dreams of both were troubled; and in the night Adrian rose -and went to add wood to the fire. It had died down to coals, but his -attention was caught by a ring of white light upon the ashes, wholly -distinct from the red embers. - -“What’s that?” - -In a moment he had answered his own question. It was the phosphorescent -glow from the inner bark of a half-burned log, and further away he -saw another portion of the same log making a ghostly radiance on the -surrounding ground. - -“Oh! I wouldn’t have missed that for anything. Mr. Dutton told me of -beautiful sights he had witnessed and of the strange will-o’-the-wisps -that abound in the forest. I’ll gather some of the chips.” - -He did so, and they made a fairy-like radiance over his palm; but -while he was intently studying them, he felt his hand rudely knocked -up, so that the bits of wood flew out of it. - -“Pierre, stop that!” - -“Don’t you know what that is? A warning--a sign--an omen. Oh! if I had -never come upon this trip!” - -“You foolish fellow! Just as I thought you were beginning to get sense. -Nothing in the world but decayed bark and chemical--” - -Pierre stopped his ears. - -“I was dreaming of the mére. She came with her apron to her eyes and -her clothes in tatters. She was scolding--” - -“Perfectly natural.” - -“And begging me--” - -“Not to eat so many half-baked beans for supper.” - -“There’s something wrong at the island. I saw the cabin all dark. I saw -Margot’s eyes red with weeping.” - -“No doubt, Tom has been into fresh mischief and your mother has -punished him.” - -Pierre ignored these flippant interruptions, but rehearsed his dismal -visions till Adrian lost patience and pushed him aside. - -“Go, bring an armful of fresh wood: some that isn’t phosphorescent, if -you prefer. That’ll wake you up and drive the megrims out of your mind.” - -“’Tis neither of them things. ’Tis a warning. They were all painted -with black, and all the Hollow creatures were painted, too. ’Tis a -warning. I shall see death before I am--” - -Even while he maundered on in this strain, he was unconsciously obeying -the command to fetch wood, and moved toward a pile left ready. Now, in -raking this together, Adrian had, also, swept that spot of ground clean -and exposed; and what neither had observed in the twilight was plainly -revealed by the glow and shadows cast by the fire. - -This was a low, carefully-made mound that, in shape and significance, -could be confounded with no other sort of mound, wherever met. Both -recognized it at once, and even upon Adrian the shock was painful; but -its effect upon superstitious Pierre was far greater. With a shriek -that startled the silence of the forest he flung himself headlong. - - -CHAPTER XVII - -DIVERGING ROADS - -“Get up, Pierre. You should be ashamed of yourself!” - -It needed a strong and firm grasp to force the terrified lad to his -feet, and even when he, at last, stood up he shivered like an aspen. - -“A grave!” - -“Certainly, a grave. But neither yours nor mine. Only that of some poor -fellow who has died in the wilderness. I’m sorry I piled the brush upon -it, yet glad we discovered it in the end.” - -“Gla-a-ad!” gasped the other. - -“Yes, of course. I mean to cover it with fresh sods and plant some of -those purple orchids at its head. I’ll cut a cedar headstone, too, and -mark it so that nobody else shall desecrate it as we have done.” - -“You mustn’t touch it. It’s nobody’s--only a warning.” - -“A warning, surely, that we must take great care lest a like fate come -on us; but somebody lies under that mound and I pity him. Most probable -that he lost his life in that very whirlpool which wrecked us. Twice -I’ve been upset and lost all my belongings, but escaped safe. I hope -I’ll not run the same chance again. Come--lie down again and go to -sleep.” - -“Couldn’t sleep; to try in such a haunted place would be to be -‘spelled’--” - -“Pierre Ricord! For a fellow that’s so smart at some things, you are -the biggest dunce I know, in others. Haven’t we slept like lords ever -since we struck this camp? I’m going to make my bed up again and turn -in. I advise you to do the same.” - -Adrian tossed the branches aside, then rearranged them, lapping the -soft ends over the hard ones in an orderly row which would have pleased -a housewife. Thus freshened, his odorous mattress was as good as new, -and stretching himself upon it he immediately went to sleep. - -Pierre fully intended to keep awake, but fatigue and loneliness -prevailed, and five minutes later he had crept close to Adrian’s side. - -The sunshine on his face and the sound of a knife cutting wood awoke -him; and there was Adrian whittling away at a broad slab of cedar, -smiling and jeering, and in the best of spirits, despite his rather -solemn occupation. - -“For a fellow who wouldn’t sleep, you’ve done pretty well. See--I’ve -caught a fish and set it cooking. I’ve picked a pile of berries, and -have nearly finished this headstone. Added another accomplishment to my -many--monument-maker. But I’m wrong to laugh over that, though the poor -unknown to whom it belongs would be grateful to me, I’ve no doubt. Lend -a hand, will you?” - -But nothing would induce Pierre to engage in any such business. Nor -would he touch his breakfast while Adrian’s knife was busy. He sat -apart, looking anywhere rather than toward his mate, and talking over -his shoulder to him in a strangely subdued voice. - -“Adrian.” - -“Well?” - -“Most done?” - -“Nearly.” - -“What you going to put on it?” - -“I’ve been wondering. Think this: ‘To the Memory of My Unknown -Brother.’” - -“Wh-a-a-t!” - -Adrian repeated the inscription. - -“He was no kin to you.” - -“We are all kin. It’s all one world--God’s world. All the people and -all these forests, and the creatures in them. I tell you, I’ve never -heard a sermon that touched me as the sight of this grave in the -wilderness has touched me. I mean to be a better, kinder man, because -of it. Margot was right--none of us has a right to his own self. She -told me often that I should go home to my own folks and make everything -right with them: then, if I could, come back and live in the woods, -somewhere, if I felt I must. But I don’t feel that way now. I want -to get back and go to work. I want to live so that when I die--like -that poor chap yonder--somebody will have been the better for my life. -Pshaw! why do I talk to you like this? Anyway, I’ll set this slab in -place, and then--” - -Pierre rose, and still without looking Adrian’s way, pushed the new -canoe into the water. He had carefully pitched it, on the day before, -with a mixture of the old pork grease and gum from the trees, so that -there need be no delay at starting. - -Adrian finished his work, lettered the slab with a coal from the fire, -and rewatered the wild flowers he had already planted. - -“Aren’t you going to eat breakfast first?” - -“Not in a graveyard,” answered Pierre, with a solemnity that checked -Adrian’s desire to smile. - -A last reverent attention, a final clearing of all rubbish from the -spot, and he, too, stepped into the canoe and picked up his paddle. -They had passed the rapids and reached a smooth stretch of the river -where they had camped, and now pulled steadily and easily away, once -more upon their journey south. But not till they had put a considerable -distance between themselves and that woodland grave, would Pierre -consent to stop and eat the food that Adrian had prepared. Even then, -he restricted the amount to be consumed, remarking with doleful -conviction: - -“We’re going to be starved before we reach Donovan’s. The food stick -burnt off and dropped into the fire last night.” - -Adrian remembered that his mate had spoken of it at the time, when by -some carelessness they had not secured the crotched sapling on which -they hung their birch kettle. - -“Oh! you simple thing. Why will you go through life tormenting yourself -with such nonsense? Come--eat your breakfast. We’re going straight to -Donovan’s as fast as we can. I’ve done with the woods for a time. So -should you be done. You’re needed at the island. Not because of any -dreams, but because the more I recall of Mr. Dutton’s appearance the -surer I am that he is a sick man. You’ll go back, won’t you?” - -“Yes; I’m going back. Not because you ask me, though.” - -“I don’t care why--only go.” - -“I’m not going into the show business.” - -Adrian smiled. “Of course, you’re not. You’ll never have money enough. -It would cost lots.” - -“’Tisn’t that. ’Twas the dream. That was sent me. All them animals in -black paint, and the blue herons without any heads, and--my mother came -for me last night.” - -“I heartily wish you could go to her this minute. She’s superstitious -enough, in all conscience, yet she has the happy faculty of keeping her -lugubrious son in subjection.” - -Whenever Pierre became particularly depressing, the other would rattle -off as many of the longest words as occurred to him. They had the -effect of diverting his comrade’s thoughts. - -Then they pulled on again, nor did anything disastrous happen to -further hinder their progress. The food did not give out, for they -lived mostly upon berries, having neither time nor desire to stop and -cook their remnant of beans. When they were especially tired, Pierre -lighted a fire and made a bucket of hemlock tea, but Adrian found cold -water preferable to this decoction; and, in fact, they were much nearer -Donovan’s, that first settlement in the wilderness, than even Pierre -had suspected. - -Their last portage was made--an easy one, there being nothing but -themselves and the canoe to carry--and they came to a big dead water -where they had looked to find another running stream; but had no sooner -sighted it than their ears were greeted by the laughter of loons, which -threw up their legs and dived beneath the surface in that absurd manner -which Adrian always found amusing. - -“Bad luck again!” cried Pierre, instantly; “never heard a loon but--” - -“But you see a house. Look! look! Donovan’s, or somebody’s, no matter -whose. A house, a house!” - -There, indeed, it lay, a goodly farmstead, with its substantial cabins, -its out-buildings, its groups of cattle on the cleared land, and--yes, -yes--its moving human beings, and what seemed oddest still, its teams -of horses. - -Even Pierre was silent, and tears sprang to the eyes of both lads as -they gazed. Until that moment neither had fully realized how lonely and -desolate had been their situation. - -“Now for it! It’s a biggish lake, and we’re pretty tired. But that -means rest, plenty to eat--everything.” - -Their rudely built canoe was almost useless when they beached it at -last on Donovan’s wharf, and their own strength was spent. But it -was a hospitable household to which they had come, and one quite used -to welcoming wanderers from the forest. They were fed and clothed and -bedded, without question; but, when a long sleep had set them both -right, tongues wagged and plans were settled with amazing promptness. - -For there were other guests at the farm; a party of prospectors going -north into the woods to locate timber for the next season’s cutting. -These would be glad of Pierre’s company and help, and would pay him -“the going wages.” But they would not return by the route he had come, -though by leaving theirs at a point well north, he could easily make -his way back to the island. - -“So you shot the poor moose for nothing. You cannot even have his -horns,” said Adrian, reproachfully. “Well, as soon as I can vote, I -mean to use all my influence to stop this murder in the forest.” - -The strangers smiled and shrugged their shoulders. “We’re after game -ourselves, as well as timber, but legislation is already in progress -to stop the indiscriminate slaughter of the fast-disappearing moose -and caribou. Five hundred dollars is the fine to be imposed for any -infringement of the law, once passed.” - -Pierre’s jaw dropped. He was so impressed by the long words and the -mention of that, to him, enormous sum, that he was rendered speechless -for a longer time than Adrian ever remembered. But, if he said nothing, -he reflected sadly upon the magnificent antlers he should see no more. - -Adrian’s affairs were, also, speedily and satisfactorily arranged. -Farmer Donovan would willingly take him to the nearest stage route; -thence to a railway would be easy journeying; and by steam he could -travel swiftly, indeed, to that distant home which he now so longed to -see. - -The parting of the lads was brief, but not without emotion. Two people -cannot go through their experiences and dangers, to remain indifferent -to each other. In both their hearts was now the kindliest feeling and -the sincere hope that they should meet again. Pierre departed first, -and looked back many times at the tall, graceful figure of his comrade; -then the trees intervened and the forest had again swallowed him into -its familiar depths. - -Then Adrian, also, stepped upon the waiting buckboard and was driven -over the rough road in the opposite direction. - -Three days later, with nothing in his pocket but his treasured knife, -a roll of birch bark, and the ten-dollar piece which, through all his -adventures, he had worn pinned to his inner clothing, “a make-peace -offering to the mater,” he reached the brownstone steps of his father’s -city mansion. - -There, for the first time, he hesitated. All the bitterness with -which he had descended those steps, banished in disgrace, was keenly -remembered. - -“Can I, shall I, dare I go up and ring that bell?” - -A vision floated before him. Margot’s earnest face and tear-dimmed -eyes; her lips speaking: - -“If I had father or mother anywhere--nothing should ever make me leave -them. I would bear everything--but I would be true to them.” - -An instant later a peal rang through that silent house, such as it had -not echoed in many a day. What would be the answer to it? - - -[TO BE CONTINUED] - - - - -_Wood-Folk Talk_ - -By J. ALLISON ATWOOD - -ROBIN’S RED BREAST - - -Although you are all in the habit of referring to Robin as “Redbreast,” -do you not often wonder why the baby Robin always has a spotted breast -so very different from his parent? True, he does not keep it very long, -but why, then, should he wear it at all? - -At one time Robin did not live in our yards and orchards as he does at -present, but remained in the deeper woods, as his cousin Wood-thrush -does now. In those times, of course, he did not have his bright -red breast, but was clothed in a spotted plumage very similar to -Wood-thrush. To narrate much of Robin’s history would make a very long -story, but we can at least tell what brought about the change in his -dress. - -Besides being first cousins, Robin and Wood-thrush had lived close -together all their lives, and it is only natural that they should be -fast friends, as they were, until that eventful year when Bluebird -arrived in Birdland. - -Of course, from the very first, folks made a great deal of fuss over -this newcomer, and the wonder of it is that Bluebird’s head was not -turned by the attentions showered upon him instead of remaining the -same modest fellow he is to-day. - -Naturally, everyone wished to be as well acquainted as possible with -the beautiful stranger, but in spite of his courageous song of “Cheer! -cheer!” there was always a touch of sadness about Bluebird which folks -could not understand, so that they never felt quite at home in his -presence. - -Now, among the birds who thus wished to become intimate with Bluebird, -there was no one more conspicuous than Robin. Indeed, some folks -thought that he made himself ridiculous by the way he toadied to the -newcomer. But even this talk did not deter him. When, therefore, he -learned later that Bluebird and himself were members of the same -family, he could not conceal his pride. But he had no more reason to be -proud than Wood-thrush, for he, too, was a relative of Bluebird. - -Still, as time went on, Robin thought more and more of his new cousin, -and it was noticed that he paid less attention than formerly to the -other birds. Most of them, of course, did not mind this, for they -thought that he would soon come to his senses and be the same hearty -fellow he had been before Bluebird came. But, instead, Robin became -prouder than ever, and the way he followed and imitated Bluebird -would certainly have provoked that person had he not been a model of -patience. - -He soon moved his nest from the thicket near his cousin Wood-thrush -to the apple-tree next to Bluebird’s home. This caused so much hard -feeling between Robin and Wood-thrush that they have ever since built -their nests in very different localities. But this isn’t all, and here -comes the event which changed the former’s whole life. - -Until this time Robin had always worn a spotted breast, but no sooner -did he move to his new home than he decided to have a vest of red -like Bluebird’s. But with all his pains he could not make himself as -handsome as his cousin, for, like many folks when they try to imitate -others, he overdid it. Instead of Bluebird’s delicate tint of carmine, -he had taken on a less pretty though showier red, and, unlike the -other, he wore it over his entire breast in a way that made some folks -say that he showed very poor taste, indeed. - -Now, at this last assumption of Robin, Birdland was outraged, and the -indignation spread so widely that Kingbird had almost decided to banish -him. It was not until then that Robin, terrified at the suggestion, -saw how foolish he had been, and he very quickly came to his senses. -First of all, he went around to all his old friends whose feelings he -had hurt and apologized so sincerely that, we are happy to say, every -one of them, except, perhaps, Wood-thrush, who could not forget the -red vest, were glad to extend a friendly wing to him, now that he had -gotten over his sudden pride. - -But we, who are better acquainted with him, must admit that Robin never -did quite conquer his pride. Everybody knows that he is one of the best -hearted of birds, and that whenever any danger threatens Birdland he is -always among the first to defend it. But the influence of Bluebird has -refined him to such an extent that there is little doubt in our mind -that he still thinks his other cousins, the Thrushes, in spite of their -splendid musical ability, are backwoodsmen, so to speak. - -Fortunately, however, there is one thing which will forever keep him -from forgetting his plainer kinsmen, and that is the fact that his -children, until they are several months old, are made to wear the same -spotted plumage which he once wore. - -And it is this which shows Robin’s pride more than anything else. -Should you approach his nest when it contains young, you will see -how mortified he is, for he fears that you will take them for -Wood-thrushes. And what a fuss he does make? He flies almost in our -faces, as if to show us that they are his children. And how anxious his -voice is as he calls to them to “Speak! speak!” Just as if young Robins -could tell us that they are not Wood-thrushes! - - - - -THE OLDEST COLLEGES - - -The University of Oxford, England, is said to have been founded by -King Alfred in 872. The University of Paris was founded by King Philip -II about 1200. The first college of the University of Cambridge was -founded by Hugo, Bishop of Ely, in 1257. The first German university -was founded at Prague in 1348. The University of Edinburgh was founded -in 1582. Trinity College, Dublin, was incorporated by royal charter in -1591. Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass., was founded in 1636. Yale -University was founded in 1700 at Saybrook, Conn., and removed to New -Haven in 1716. William and Mary College was established in 1617, at -Williamsburg, Va., and its charter was granted in 1693. - -The first common schools established by legislation in America were in -Massachusetts in 1645. The first town schools were opened at Hartford, -Conn., prior to 1642. - - * * * * * - -The loftiest active volcano is Popocatapetl; it is 17,748 feet above -sea level, and has a crater three miles in circumference and 1,000 feet -deep. - - - - -BOB WHITE - - - Whose voice is that that wakes me from sleep, - As soon as the day begins to peep-- - Now under the wall, and now in the hay, - Now in the meadow, piping away? - Why, that’s Bob White. - - He seems as fond of his common name - As humans who’ve attained to fame; - But he isn’t conceited, not a mite. - Though he wakes us up before it is light - To call “Bob White.” - - Our Robert has just two notes, that’s all; - But many a bird might envy his call, - So rich and full, so joyous and free; - For a matin singer, there’s none to me - Like dear Bob White. - - “Wake up!” we hear from among the sheaves; - “There is work to do, and old Time leaves - The laggard and lazy on the way; - The best time for work is this very day, - And I’m Bob White.” - - --_Eleanor Kirk._ - - - - -[Illustration: WITH THE EDITOR] - - -August is the high-tide month of outdoor life. At this season, young -folks, in preparation for the new school term, are hurried off to -draw their last breath of vacation at the country, the seashore, or -mountains, and the older people, wherever it is possible, leave their -work and join the children on the court and field. Athletics supplant -business and study. - -The habit of taking physical exercise can be traced as far back as the -time of Homer. With the old Greeks, systematic gymnastics was a part -of the young person’s education. Further than that, it even became a -matter of legislation, and to this fact can be attributed the splendid -physiques which are portrayed in the old Greek statues. - -At Athens, the government erected public gymnasiums. In connection with -them were medical attendants whose duty it was to prescribe the special -kind of exercise needed by each pupil. To show still further the regard -for athletics at that time, it might be said that both Plato and -Aristotle believed that public gymnasiums were essential to a perfect -nation. - -Athletics now are regarded in a different light. Very few of us go -through the tedious systematic drill necessary to a perfect physical -condition. By many, indeed, the exercise of the entire year is crowded -into the short space of a fortnight, and then it is taken only as -recreation. - -A better form of the practice is found in what we might term team -athletics, but even here we lack the wise purpose of the ancients. The -object in this case is to develop a squad of athletes, generally those -already well gifted by nature, to compete with and defeat another such -team of picked men. As a consequence, in the great effort to produce -a winning crew or eleven, the especial needs of the individual are -forgotten. - -So, notwithstanding the fact that every one is welcomed as a candidate -for these teams, the final result is to turn out, perhaps, a score -of exceptionally well drilled men, while hundreds of others, who, in -reality, most need the exercise thus afforded, are content to fill the -grand stands and cheer their men to victory. - -Undoubtedly, team athletics does much good. It stimulates a greater -interest and brings more men into the field than any other influence; -but it still falls short of the ideal purpose of athletics--to get -everyone, gymnasts or invalids, to develop their bodies with the same -systematic care with which they train their minds. - -Physical exercise must not be considered merely as a form of recreation -or a detail in the making of an athletic team, but rather in the light -of a training which, in the future, will have a very telling effect -upon our lives. Even if we can never hope to lower a track record or -win a place upon the gridiron, we should not wholly surrender the field -to those who already excel: but see that a corner of it, at least, is -left for those who are not born athletes--those who, in fact, are most -in need of exercise. - - - - -Event and Comment - - -The King’s Illness - -Almost on the eve of the coronation in London came the announcement of -the serious illness of King Edward. Falling suddenly upon the people, -as it did, the news put a stop to the preparations for a spectacular -display seldom, if ever, equaled. - -Thousands of carpenters, painters, and decorators were putting on the -finishing touches all along the path of the triumphal procession. -Sixty thousand troops had received orders to guard the route, while at -Spithead an immense fleet was preparing for a grand naval review. - -For a time following the announcement the world waited anxiously for -news. Happily, the worst anticipations were not realized, and the -recovery has been so speedy that already the time for the coronation -has been decided upon. It will take place between August 12th and 15th -of this year. - - * * * * * - -In comment of the occurrence we quote the London _Spectator_ as follows: - -“While contemplating the events of the last few days, it is impossible -not to be struck by the fact that the sympathy felt for the king will -have a marked effect on the future position of the dynasty--an effect -which will last far beyond the life of the king. It is a commonplace -that men do not so much love those who confer actual benefits upon -them as those with whom they have sympathized and suffered. The king -will be more to the nation after his illness than he was before.” - - -The “Finland” - -The largest vessel ever built in this country was the “Finland,” -recently launched at Cramp’s shipyard in Philadelphia. Her length is -580 feet, while the width and depth are 60 and 42 feet respectively. -The gross tonnage is 12,000 tons, or about 400 tons greater than either -the “St. Paul” or “St. Louis,” the next largest vessels built by -Cramps. The “Finland” will make her first transatlantic voyage early in -the year 1903. - - * * * * * - -The “Great Eastern,” constructed some fifty years ago, had a length of -680 feet, and was finally destroyed for the reason that she was too -large for ordinary use. The advance in the science of steam navigation, -however, has been so great since that time that shipbuilders no longer -have any fear of making vessels too large for use. - - -Philippine Affairs - -Concerning the proclamation of amnesty issued at Manila on July 4th, we -quote _Public Opinion_: - -“It declares the insurrection in the Philippines at an end and peace -established in all parts of the archipelago, except the country -inhabited by the Moro tribes. Complete amnesty is granted all persons -in the Philippines who have participated in the insurrection. This -includes as well those concerned in the outbreaks against Spain as -early as August, 1896, and extends pardon to natives who may have -violated the laws of warfare, but not to persons already convicted of -criminal offenses.” - - * * * * * - -The Fourth of July, 1902, will be well worthy of its precedent if it -has brought with it a lasting and praiseworthy end of the Philippine -trouble. - - -The King’s Dinner - -One feature of the coronation festivities which was not interfered -with was the king’s dinner to the poor. It took place on July 5th, and -tables were set in four hundred places throughout the country. Here -liberal provision was made for the banqueting of over half-a-million -people. The greatest number gathered in any one place was 14,000. - - * * * * * - -It is very creditable to King Edward that in the preparation for -festivities of such a magnificent nature, he did not forget the poor, -but wished them, also, to join in the general celebration. - - -The Petrified Ship - -A rumor which is beginning to arouse interest in the northwest, is -founded upon a story told by the Alaskan Indians. According to them, -they have discovered in the vicinity of the Porcupine river, near the -Arctic circle, the remains of a gigantic petrified ship, whose length -approaches 1,200 feet. It is situated upon a hill some thousands of -feet above sea level. An expedition is now on foot to investigate. - - * * * * * - -Although there is little use in anticipating these researches, the -rumor at least serves to remind us how much of the world is as yet -unexplored and what great room there still is for new discoveries. - - - - -[Illustration: OUT OF DOORS] - - -The two great aquatic events in the college world this season, were -the Inter-collegiate regatta, at Poughkeepsie, on the Hudson, and the -Yale-Harvard race at New London. - -In the former, Cornell again demonstrated Coach Courtney’s ability to -turn out a winning crew by taking first place. Not far behind came the -sturdy Westerners, Wisconsin, followed closely by Columbia. Then came -Pennsylvania, Syracuse, and Georgetown in the order named. - -Besides winning the Varsity race, Cornell also carried off the honors -in the Four-oar and Freshman races. - -At New London, on June 26th, Yale won because of her greater endurance. -For the first half-minute Harvard had a little the lead, but soon, in -spite of her plucky efforts, the superior strength of Yale told. The -latter then pulled slowly away from Harvard, gaining a lead which at -the finish had grown to four lengths. - -A fitting and interesting termination of the rowing season would have -been a race between Yale and Cornell. - - * * * * * - -The deciding base-ball game between Yale and Harvard proved to be the -most exciting one of the series. In the ninth inning, with the score -tied, Yale’s men were put out in rapid succession, and Harvard, by some -clever batting and base-running, enabled Mathews to cross the plate -with the winning run. - - * * * * * - -In the Round Robin tennis tournament at the Crescent Athletic Club, -Wright defeated Hobart by a score of 6-4, 8-6. In the other games, the -Wren brothers, although neither of them were up to their usual form, -showed that they will be a consideration in this year’s championship. - - * * * * * - -At the Traver’s Island swimming contest, E. C. Schaeffer established -new American records for both the 220-yard and half-mile events. The -time of the former was 1 min. 19 3-5 sec., beating the previous record, -held by H. H. Reeder, by 2 2-5 sec. - -In the half-mile race Schaeffer broke five records--the 330-yard, -550-yard, 660-yard, 770-yard, and 880-yard. The time of the 880-yard, -or half-mile, event was 13 min. 27 2-5 sec. - - * * * * * - -Most Americans were not surprised to hear the outcome of the polo games -in England. In the last game the American team was defeated by a score -of 7-1. This gave the entire series to the English. Sometime, perhaps, -when polo is more widely played in this country and there are more -candidates for an All-American team, we may make a better showing. -Until then we must acknowledge England’s superiority. - - - - -[Illustration: THE OLD TRUNK] - - -ANSWERS TO JULY PUZZLES - -1. Wisconsin, Indiana, Minnesota, California, Arizona, Louisiana. - -2. Cat, mule, cow, lion, ox, ’coon, deer, moose, rabbit, wolf, opossum, -rat, camel, pig, dog, ape, ibex, otter, antelope, kid. - -3. - - Y - B O A - Y O U T H - A T E - H - - -4. - - =F=lylea=F= - =I=ndig=O= - =R=ondra=U= - =E=a=R= - =C=a=T= - =R=oac=H= - =A=ls=O= - =C=hie=F= - =K=ca=J= - =E=m=U= - =R=il=L= - =S=l=Y= - -The first five perfect solutions were received from - - Harry Yates, - Dora Makay, - Mary Folsom Pierce, - Ellsworth Wright, - L. M. Lawrence. - - -SQUARE WORDS - - A mazazine. - A fine clay. - Radical. - A teacher. - Part of the body. - - --_Katherine D. Salisbury._ - - -HIDDEN BIRDS - -In each of the following sentences are two hidden birds. Can you find -them? - -1. I see a gleaner, and he is her only son. - -2. If Kit ever does mew, rent is due. - -3. “I can spar, row, and fence, sir,” Ed Bird said. - -4. Formerly all arks floated on the river Obi, now almost unknown. - -5. Just hear! He always lieth! Rush him! - -6. Laugh, awkward fellow, laugh, for this is your day, but, lo! on the -morrow you will be in tears. - - --_Charles C. Lynde._ - - -PRESIDENTS - -In the following are the names of two Presidents of the United States: - -Nsncoowlnaglihnti. - - --_Percival C. Lancefield._ - - -DIAMOND - - . A consonant. - . . . A vehicle. - . . . . . A beast of burden. - . . . . . . . A noted man. - . . . . . To set again. - . . . A quantity. - . A consonant. - - --_Julia E. C._ - - -THE ESCAPE - -A Northern soldier was captured while visiting a friend in the South -during the Civil War. He was tried and condemned to be shot at -daybreak, as a spy, in spite of the protestations of his host. During -the night a letter, after passing through the hands of his captors, was -delivered to him. In the morning the room in which he had been confined -was empty. He had escaped. The letter, which was in the handwriting of -the owner of the house, furnished the clue to the escape. Can you see -how? It was as follows: - -“Kamby says Edith is worse. You asked me to write if she began to fail, -and I am complying with your request. So, if the Union of the North can -spare you, come. Do not delay, for Edith is very ill. Remember, she is -waiting for you. - - “Most sorrowfully, - “Adjutant Thomas.” - - --_Leslie W. Quirk._ - - - - -[Illustration: IN-DOORS] - -PARLOR MAGIC - -By Ellis Stanyon - - -THE HANDKERCHIEF CABINET.--This very useful piece of apparatus should -be in the repertoire of every amateur magician, as it is available -for producing, changing, or vanishing a handkerchief. Its secret lies -in the fact that it contains two drawers, bottom to bottom, the lower -one being hidden by a sliding panel. When standing on the table the top -drawer only is visible, and the cabinet looks the picture of innocence, -but if turned over and stood on its opposite end, the sliding panel -falls, exposing the hidden drawer, and hiding that which for the time -being is at the bottom. (Fig. 12.) The cabinet is about two inches -square by four inches high. - -[Illustration: Fig. 12.] - -If required for production, you proceed as follows: Having placed a -silk handkerchief in the concealed drawer, introduce the cabinet, take -out the empty drawer, and give it for examination. Replace the drawer, -secretly turn over the cabinet, and place it on your table. You now go -through any form of incantation you please, open the drawer, and take -out the handkerchief. - -If you desire to vanish the handkerchief, you will have it placed in -the drawer by one of the spectators, and while going to the table turn -over the box. When the drawer is opened the handkerchief will have -disappeared. - -Should you wish to change one handkerchief for another, you will, -beforehand, conceal, say, a red handkerchief in the cabinet; then, -taking a white one, have it deposited in the upper drawer, turn over -the cabinet as before, pull out the now uppermost drawer, and produce -the red handkerchief. - -From the foregoing description it will be obvious that the cabinet is -capable of being used in conjunction with many tricks. - - - - -Transcriber’s Notes: - - -A number of typographical errors have been corrected silently. - -Irregularities in closing quotes have not been modernized. - -Archaic spellings have been retained. - -The table of contents refers to a “With the Publisher” page that -does not exist in the transcribed image so does not exist in the -transcription. - -“A Novel Weapon” was added to the original Table of Contents. - -Cover image is in the public domain. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YOUTH, VOL. I, NO. 6, AUGUST -1902 *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |