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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Charmed Life + +Author: Richard Harding Davis + +Release Date: May 12, 2006 [EBook #1821] +Last Updated: September 26, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A CHARMED LIFE *** + + + + +Produced by Don Lainson; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + A CHARMED LIFE + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + by Richard Harding Davis + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + She loved him so, that when he went away to a little war in which his + country was interested she could not understand, nor quite forgive. + </p> + <p> + As the correspondent of a newspaper, Chesterton had looked on at other + wars; when the yellow races met, when the infidel Turk spanked the + Christian Greek; and one he had watched from inside a British square, + where he was greatly alarmed lest he should be trampled upon by terrified + camels. This had happened before he and she had met. After they met, she + told him that what chances he had chosen to take before he came into her + life fell outside of her jurisdiction. But now that his life belonged to + her, this talk of his standing up to be shot at was wicked. It was worse + than wicked; it was absurd. + </p> + <p> + When the Maine sank in Havana harbor and the word “war” was appearing + hourly in hysterical extras, Miss Armitage explained her position. + </p> + <p> + “You mustn’t think,” she said, “that I am one of those silly girls who + would beg you not to go to war.” + </p> + <p> + At the moment of speaking her cheek happened to be resting against his, + and his arm was about her, so he humbly bent his head and kissed her, and + whispered very proudly and softly, “No, dearest.” + </p> + <p> + At which she withdrew from him frowning. + </p> + <p> + “No! I’m not a bit like those girls,” she proclaimed. “I merely tell you + YOU CAN’T GO! My gracious!” she cried, helplessly. She knew the words fell + short of expressing her distress, but her education had not supplied her + with exclamations of greater violence. + </p> + <p> + “My goodness!” she cried. “How can you frighten me so? It’s not like you,” + she reproached him. “You are so unselfish, so noble. You are always + thinking of other people. How can you talk of going to war—to be + killed—to me? And now, now that you have made me love you so?” + </p> + <p> + The hands, that when she talked seemed to him like swallows darting and + flashing in the sunlight, clutched his sleeve. The fingers, that he would + rather kiss than the lips of any other woman that ever lived, clung to his + arm. Their clasp reminded him of that of a drowning child he had once + lifted from the surf. + </p> + <p> + “If you should die,” whispered Miss Armitage. “What would I do. What would + I do!” + </p> + <p> + “But my dearest,” cried the young man. “My dearest ONE! I’ve GOT to go. + It’s our own war. Everybody else will go,” he pleaded. “Every man you + know, and they’re going to fight, too. I’m going only to look on. That’s + bad enough, isn’t it, without sitting at home? You should be sorry I’m not + going to fight.” + </p> + <p> + “Sorry!” exclaimed the girl. “If you love me—” + </p> + <p> + “If I love you,” shouted the young man. His voice suggested that he was + about to shake her. “How dare you?” + </p> + <p> + She abandoned that position and attacked from one more logical. + </p> + <p> + “But why punish me?” she protested. “Do I want the war? Do I want to free + Cuba? No! I want YOU, and if you go, you are the one who is sure to be + killed. You are so big—and so brave, and you will be rushing in + wherever the fighting is, and then—then you will die.” She raised + her eyes and looked at him as though seeing him from a great distance. + “And,” she added fatefully, “I will die, too, or maybe I will have to + live, to live without you for years, for many miserable years.” + </p> + <p> + Fearfully, with great caution, as though in his joy in her he might crush + her in his hands, the young man drew her to him and held her close. After + a silence he whispered. “But, you know that nothing can happen to me. Not + now, that God has let me love you. He could not be so cruel. He would not + have given me such happiness to take it from me. A man who loves you, as I + love you, cannot come to any harm. And the man YOU love is immortal, + immune. He holds a charmed life. So long as you love him, he must live.” + </p> + <p> + The eyes of the girl smiled up at him through her tears. She lifted her + lips to his. “Then you will never die!” she said. + </p> + <p> + She held him away from her. “Listen!” she whispered. “What you say is + true. It must be true, because you are always right. I love you so that + nothing can harm you. My love will be a charm. It will hang around your + neck and protect you, and keep you, and bring you back to me. When you are + in danger my love will save you. For, while it lives, I live. When it dies—” + </p> + <p> + Chesterton kissed her quickly. + </p> + <p> + “What happens then,” he said, “doesn’t matter.” + </p> + <p> + The war game had run its happy-go-lucky course briefly and brilliantly, + with “glory enough for all,” even for Chesterton. For, in no previous + campaign had good fortune so persistently stood smiling at his elbow. At + each moment of the war that was critical, picturesque, dramatic, by some + lucky accident he found himself among those present. He could not lose. + Even when his press boat broke down at Cardenas, a Yankee cruiser and two + Spanish gun-boats, apparently for his sole benefit, engaged in an + impromptu duel within range of his megaphone. When his horse went lame, + the column with which he had wished to advance, passed forward to the + front unmolested, while the rear guard, to which he had been forced to + join his fortune, fought its way through the stifling underbrush. + </p> + <p> + Between his news despatches, when he was not singing the praises of his + fellow-countrymen, or copying lists of their killed and wounded, he wrote + to Miss Armitage. His letters were scrawled on yellow copy paper and + consisted of repetitions of the three words, “I love you,” rearranged, + illuminated, and intensified. + </p> + <p> + Each letter began much in the same way. “The war is still going on. You + can read about it in the papers. What I want you to know is that I love + you as no man ever—” And so on for many pages. + </p> + <p> + From her only one of the letters she wrote reached him. It was picked up + in the sand at Siboney after the medical corps, in an effort to wipe out + the yellow-fever, had set fire to the post-office tent. + </p> + <p> + She had written it some weeks before from her summer home at Newport, and + in it she said: “When you went to the front, I thought no woman could love + more than I did then. But, now I know. At least I know one girl who can. + She cannot write it. She can never tell you. You must just believe. + </p> + <p> + “Each day I hear from you, for as soon as the paper comes, I take it down + to the rocks and read your cables, and I look south across the ocean to + Cuba, and try to see you in all that fighting and heat and fever. But I am + not afraid. For each morning I wake to find I love you more; that it has + grown stronger, more wonderful, more hard to bear. And I know the charm I + gave you grows with it, and is more powerful, and that it will bring you + back to me wearing new honors, ‘bearing your sheaves with you.’ + </p> + <p> + “As though I cared for your new honors. I want YOU, YOU, YOU—only + YOU.” + </p> + <p> + When Santiago surrendered and the invading army settled down to arrange + terms of peace, and imbibe fever, and General Miles moved to Porto Rico, + Chesterton moved with him. + </p> + <p> + In that pretty little island a command of regulars under a general of the + regular army had, in a night attack, driven back the Spaniards from + Adhuntas. The next afternoon as the column was in line of march, and the + men were shaking themselves into their accoutrements, a dusty, sweating + volunteer staff officer rode down the main street of Adhuntas, and with + the authority of a field marshal, held up his hand. + </p> + <p> + “General Miles’s compliments, sir,” he panted, “and peace is declared!” + </p> + <p> + Different men received the news each in a different fashion. Some whirled + their hats in the air and cheered. Those who saw promotion and the new + insignia on their straps vanish, swore deeply. Chesterton fell upon his + saddle-bags and began to distribute his possessions among the enlisted + men. After he had remobilized, his effects consisted of a change of + clothes, his camera, water-bottle, and his medicine case. In his present + state of health and spirits he could not believe he stood in need of the + medicine case, but it was a gift from Miss Armitage, and carried with it a + promise from him that he always would carry it. He had “packed” it + throughout the campaign, and for others it had proved of value. + </p> + <p> + “I take it you are leaving us,” said an officer enviously. + </p> + <p> + “I am leaving you so quick,” cried Chesterton laughing, “that you won’t + even see the dust. There’s a transport starts from Mayaguez at six + to-morrow morning, and, if I don’t catch it, this pony will die on the + wharf.” + </p> + <p> + “The road to Mayaguez is not healthy for Americans,” said the general in + command. “I don’t think I ought to let you go. The enemy does not know + peace is on yet, and there are a lot of guerillas—” + </p> + <p> + Chesterton shook his head in pitying wonder. + </p> + <p> + “Not let me go!” he exclaimed. “Why, General, you haven’t enough men in + your command to stop me, and as for the Spaniards and guerillas—! + I’m homesick,” cried the young man. “I’m so damned homesick that I am + liable to die of it before the transport gets me to Sandy Hook.” + </p> + <p> + “If you are shot up by an outpost,” growled the general, “you will be + worse off than homesick. It’s forty miles to Mayaguez. Better wait till + daylight. Where’s the sense of dying, after the fighting’s over?” + </p> + <p> + “If I don’t catch that transport I sure WILL die,” laughed Chesterton. His + head was bent and he was tugging at his saddle girths. Apparently the + effort brought a deeper shadow to his tan, “but nothing else can kill me! + I have a charm, General,” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “We hadn’t noticed it,” said the general. + </p> + <p> + The staff officers, according to regulations, laughed. + </p> + <p> + “It’s not that kind of a charm,” said Chesterton. “Good-by, General.” + </p> + <p> + The road was hardly more than a trail, but the moon made it as light as + day, and cast across it black tracings of the swinging vines and creepers; + while high in the air it turned the polished surface of the palms into + glittering silver. As he plunged into the cool depths of the forest + Chesterton threw up his arms and thanked God that he was moving toward + her. The luck that had accompanied him throughout the campaign had held + until the end. Had he been forced to wait for a transport, each hour would + have meant a month of torment, an arid, wasted place in his life. As it + was, with each eager stride of El Capitan, his little Porto Rican pony, he + was brought closer to her. He was so happy that as he galloped through the + dark shadows of the jungle or out into the brilliant moonlight he shouted + aloud and sang; and again as he urged El Capitan to greater bursts of + speed, he explained in joyous, breathless phrases why it was that he urged + him on. + </p> + <p> + “For she is wonderful and most beautiful,” he cried, “the most glorious + girl in all the world! And, if I kept her waiting, even for a moment, El + Capitan, I would be unworthy—and I might lose her! So you see we + ride for a great prize!” + </p> + <p> + The Spanish column that, the night before, had been driven from Adhuntas, + now in ignorance of peace, occupied both sides of the valley through which + ran the road to Mayaguez, and in ambush by the road itself had placed an + outpost of two men. One was a sharp-shooter of the picked corps of the + Guardia Civile, and one a sergeant of the regiment that lay hidden in the + heights. If the Americans advanced toward Mayaguez, these men were to wait + until the head of the column drew abreast of them, when they were to fire. + The report of their rifles would be the signal for those in the hill above + to wipe out the memory of Adhuntas. + </p> + <p> + Chesterton had been riding at a gallop, but, as he reached the place where + the men lay in ambush, he pulled El Capitan to a walk, and took advantage + of his first breathing spell to light his pipe. He had already filled it, + and was now fumbling in his pocket for his match-box. The match-box was of + wood such as one can buy, filled to the brim with matches, for one penny. + But it was a most precious possession. In the early days of his interest + in Miss Armitage, as they were once setting forth upon a motor trip, she + had handed it to him. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “You always forget to bring any,” she said simply, “and have to borrow + some.” + </p> + <p> + The other men in the car, knowing this to be a just reproof, laughed + sardonically, and at the laugh the girl had looked up in surprise. + Chesterton, seeing the look, understood that her act, trifling as it was, + had been sincere, had been inspired simply by thought of his comfort. And + he asked himself why young Miss Armitage should consider his comfort, and + why the fact that she did consider it should make him so extremely happy. + And he decided it must be because she loved him and he loved her. + </p> + <p> + Having arrived at that conclusion, he had asked her to marry him, and upon + the match-box had marked the date and the hour. Since then she had given + him many pretty presents, marked with her initials, marked with his crest, + with strange cabalistic mottoes that meant nothing to any one save + themselves. But the wooden matchbox was still the most valued of his + possessions. + </p> + <p> + As he rode into the valley the rays of the moon fell fully upon him, and + exposed him to the outpost as pitilessly as though he had been held in the + circle of a search-light. + </p> + <p> + The bronzed Mausers pushed cautiously through the screen of vines. There + was a pause, and the rifle of the sergeant wavered. When he spoke his tone + was one of disappointment. + </p> + <p> + “He is a scout, riding alone,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “He is an officer,” returned the sharp-shooter, excitedly. “The others + follow. We should fire now and give the signal.” + </p> + <p> + “He is no officer, he is a scout,” repeated the sergeant. “They have sent + him ahead to study the trail and to seek us. He may be a league in + advance. If we shoot HIM, we only warn the others.” + </p> + <p> + Chesterton was within fifty yards. After an excited and anxious search he + had found the match-box in the wrong pocket. The eyes of the sharp-shooter + frowned along the barrel of his rifle. With his chin pressed against the + stock he whispered swiftly from the corner of his lips, “He is an officer! + I am aiming where the strap crosses his heart. You aim at his belt. We + fire together.” + </p> + <p> + The heat of the tropic night and the strenuous gallop had covered El + Capitan with a lather of sweat. The reins upon his neck dripped with it. + The gauntlets with which Chesterton held them were wet. As he raised the + matchbox it slipped from his fingers and fell noiselessly in the trail. + With an exclamation he dropped to the road and to his knees, and groping + in the dust began an eager search. + </p> + <p> + The sergeant caught at the rifle of the sharpshooter, and pressed it down. + </p> + <p> + “Look!” he whispered. “He IS a scout. He is searching the trail for the + tracks of our ponies. If you fire they will hear it a league away.” + </p> + <p> + “But if he finds our trail and returns—” + </p> + <p> + The sergeant shook his head. “I let him pass forward,” he said grimly. “He + will never return.” + </p> + <p> + Chesterton pounced upon the half-buried matchbox, and in a panic lest he + might again lose it, thrust it inside his tunic. + </p> + <p> + “Little do you know, El Capitan,” he exclaimed breathlessly, as he + scrambled back into the saddle and lifted the pony into a gallop, “what a + narrow escape I had. I almost lost it.” + </p> + <p> + Toward midnight they came to a wooden bridge swinging above a ravine in + which a mountain stream, forty feet below, splashed over half-hidden + rocks, and the stepping stones of the ford. Even before the campaign began + the bridge had outlived its usefulness, and the unwonted burden of + artillery, and the vibrations of marching men had so shaken it that it + swayed like a house of cards. Threatened by its own weight, at the mercy + of the first tropic storm, it hung a death trap for the one who first + added to its burden. + </p> + <p> + No sooner had El Capitan struck it squarely with his four hoofs, than he + reared and, whirling, sprang back to the solid earth. The suddenness of + his retreat had all but thrown Chesterton, but he regained his seat, and + digging the pony roughly with his spurs, pulled his head again toward the + bridge. + </p> + <p> + “What are you shying at, now?” he panted. “That’s a perfectly good + bridge.” + </p> + <p> + For a minute horse and man struggled for the mastery, the horse spinning + in short circles, the man pulling, tugging, urging him with knees and + spurs. The first round ended in a draw. There were two more rounds with + the advantage slightly in favor of El Capitan, for he did not approach the + bridge. + </p> + <p> + The night was warm and the exertion violent. Chesterton, puzzled and + annoyed, paused to regain his breath and his temper. Below him, in the + ravine, the shallow waters of the ford called to him, suggesting a + pleasant compromise. He turned his eyes downward and saw hanging over the + water what appeared to be a white bird upon the lower limb of a dead tree. + He knew it to be an orchid, an especially rare orchid, and he knew, also, + that the orchid was the favorite flower of Miss Armitage. In a moment he + was on his feet, and with the reins over his arm, was slipping down the + bank, dragging El Capitan behind him. He ripped from the dead tree the + bark to which the orchid was clinging, and with wet moss and grass packed + it in his leather camera case. The camera he abandoned on the path. He + always could buy another camera; he could not again carry a white orchid, + plucked in the heart of the tropics on the night peace was declared, to + the girl he left behind him. Followed by El Capitan, nosing and snuffing + gratefully at the cool waters, he waded the ford, and with his camera case + swinging from his shoulder, galloped up the opposite bank and back into + the trail. + </p> + <p> + A minute later, the bridge, unable to recover from the death blow struck + by El Capitan, went whirling into the ravine and was broken upon the rocks + below. Hearing the crash behind him, Chesterton guessed that in the jungle + a tree had fallen. + </p> + <p> + They had started at six in the afternoon and had covered twenty of the + forty miles that lay between Adhuntas and Mayaguez, when, just at the + outskirts of the tiny village of Caguan, El Capitan stumbled, and when he + arose painfully, he again fell forward. + </p> + <p> + Caguan was a little church, a little vine-covered inn, a dozen one-story + adobe houses shining in the moonlight like whitewashed sepulchres. They + faced a grass-grown plaza, in the centre of which stood a great wooden + cross. At one corner of the village was a corral, and in it many ponies. + At the sight Chesterton gave a cry of relief. A light showed through the + closed shutters of the inn, and when he beat with his whip upon the door, + from the adobe houses other lights shone, and white-clad figures appeared + in the moonlight. The landlord of the inn was a Spaniard, fat and + prosperous-looking, but for the moment his face was eloquent with such + distress and misery that the heart of the young man, who was at peace with + all the world, went instantly out to him. The Spaniard was less + sympathetic. When he saw the khaki suit and the campaign hat he scowled, + and ungraciously would have closed the door. Chesterton, apologizing, + pushed it open. His pony, he explained, had gone lame, and he must have + another, and at once. The landlord shrugged his shoulders. These were war + times, he said, and the American officer could take what he liked. They in + Caguan were noncombatants and could not protest. Chesterton hastened to + reassure him. The war, he announced, was over, and were it not, he was no + officer to issue requisitions. He intended to pay for the pony. He + unbuckled his belt and poured upon the table a handful of Spanish + doubloons. The landlord lowered the candle and silently counted the gold + pieces, and then calling to him two of his fellow-villagers, crossed the + tiny plaza and entered the corral. + </p> + <p> + “The American pig,” he whispered, “wishes to buy a pony. He tells me the + war is over; that Spain has surrendered. We know that must be a lie. It is + more probable he is a deserter. He claims he is a civilian, but that also + is a lie, for he is in uniform. You, Paul, sell him your pony, and then + wait for him at the first turn in the trail, and take it from him.” + </p> + <p> + “He is armed,” protested the one called Paul. + </p> + <p> + “You must not give him time to draw his revolver,” ordered the landlord. + “You and Pedro will shoot him from the shadow. He is our country’s enemy, + and it will be in a good cause. And he may carry despatches. If we take + them to the commandante at Mayaguez he will reward us.” + </p> + <p> + “And the gold pieces?” demanded the one called Paul. + </p> + <p> + “We will divide them in three parts,” said the landlord. + </p> + <p> + In the front of the inn, surrounded by a ghostlike group that spoke its + suspicions, Chesterton was lifting his saddle from El Capitan and rubbing + the lame foreleg. It was not a serious sprain. A week would set it right, + but for that night the pony was useless. Impatiently, Chesterton called + across the plaza, begging the landlord to make haste. He was eager to be + gone, alarmed and fearful lest even this slight delay should cause him to + miss the transport. The thought was intolerable. But he was also acutely + conscious that he was very hungry, and he was too old a campaigner to + scoff at hunger. With the hope that he could find something to carry with + him and eat as he rode forward, he entered the inn. + </p> + <p> + The main room of the house was now in darkness, but a smaller room + adjoining it was lit by candles, and by a tiny taper floating before a + crucifix. In the light of the candles Chesterton made out a bed, a priest + bending over it, a woman kneeling beside it, and upon the bed the little + figure of a boy who tossed and moaned. As Chesterton halted and waited + hesitating, the priest strode past him, and in a voice dull and flat with + grief and weariness, ordered those at the door to bring the landlord + quickly. As one of the group leaped toward the corral, the priest said to + the others: “There is another attack. I have lost hope.” + </p> + <p> + Chesterton advanced and asked if he could be of service. The priest shook + his head. The child, he said, was the only son of the landlord, and much + beloved by him, and by all the village. He was now in the third week of + typhoid fever and the period of hemorrhages. Unless they could be checked, + the boy would die, and the priest, who for many miles of mountain and + forest was also the only doctor, had exhausted his store of simple + medicines. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing can stop the hemorrhage,” he protested wearily, “but the + strongest of drugs. And I have nothing!” + </p> + <p> + Chesterton bethought him of the medicine case Miss Armitage had forced + upon him. “I have given opium to the men for dysentery,” he said. “Would + opium help you?” + </p> + <p> + The priest sprang at him and pushed him out of the door and toward the + saddle-bags. + </p> + <p> + “My children,” he cried, to the silent group in the plaza, “God has sent a + miracle!” + </p> + <p> + After an hour at the bedside the priest said, “He will live,” and knelt, + and the mother of the boy and the villagers knelt with him. When + Chesterton raised his eyes, he found that the landlord, who had been + silently watching while the two men struggled with death for the life of + his son, had disappeared. But he heard, leaving the village along the + trail to Mayaguez, the sudden clatter of a pony’s hoofs. It moved like a + thing driven with fear. + </p> + <p> + The priest strode out into the moonlight. In the recovery of the child he + saw only a demonstration of the efficacy of prayer, and he could not too + quickly bring home the lesson to his parishioners. Amid their murmurs of + wonder and gratitude Chesterton rode away. To the kindly care of the + priest he bequeathed El Capitan. With him, also, he left the gold pieces + which were to pay for the fresh pony. + </p> + <p> + A quarter of a mile outside the village three white figures confronted + him. Two who stood apart in the shadow shrank from observation, but the + landlord, seated bareback upon a pony that from some late exertion was + breathing heavily, called to him to halt. + </p> + <p> + “In the fashion of my country,” he began grandiloquently, “we have come + this far to wish you God speed upon your journey.” In the fashion of the + American he seized Chesterton by the hand. “I thank you, senor,” he + murmured. + </p> + <p> + “Not me,” returned Chesterton. “But the one who made me ‘pack’ that + medicine chest. Thank her, for to-night I think it saved a life.” + </p> + <p> + The Spaniard regarded him curiously, fixing him with his eyes as though + deep in consideration. At last he smiled gravely. + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” he said. “Let us both remember her in our prayers.” + </p> + <p> + As Chesterton rode away the words remained gratefully in his memory and + filled him with pleasant thoughts. “The world,” he mused, “is full of just + such kind and gentle souls.” + </p> + <p> + After an interminable delay he reached Newport, and they escaped from the + others, and Miss Armitage and he ran down the lawn to the rocks, and stood + with the waves whispering at their feet. + </p> + <p> + It was the moment for which each had so often longed, with which both had + so often tortured themselves by living in imagination, that now, that it + was theirs, they were fearful it might not be true. + </p> + <p> + Finally, he said: “And the charm never failed! Indeed, it was wonderful! + It stood by me so obviously. For instance, the night before San Juan, in + the mill at El Poso, I slept on the same poncho with another + correspondent. I woke up with a raging appetite for bacon and coffee, and + he woke up out of his mind, and with a temperature of one hundred and + four. And again, I was standing by Capron’s gun at El Caney, when a shell + took the three men who served it, and only scared ME. And there was + another time—” He stopped. “Anyway,” he laughed, “here I am.” + </p> + <p> + “But there was one night, one awful night,” began the girl. She trembled, + and he made this an added excuse for drawing her closer to him. “When I + felt you were in great peril, that you would surely die. And all through + the night I knelt by the window and looked toward Cuba and prayed, and + prayed to God to let you live.” + </p> + <p> + Chesterton bent his head and kissed the tips of her fingers. After a + moment he said: “Would you know what night it was? It might be curious if + I had been—” + </p> + <p> + “Would I know!” cried the girl. “It was eight days ago. The night of the + twelfth. An awful night!” + </p> + <p> + “The twelfth!” exclaimed Chesterton, and laughed and then begged her + pardon humbly. “I laughed because the twelfth,” he exclaimed, “was the + night peace was declared. The war was over. I’m sorry, but THAT night I + was riding toward you, thinking only of you. I was never for a moment in + danger.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Charmed Life, by Richard Harding Davis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A CHARMED LIFE *** + +***** This file should be named 1821-h.htm or 1821-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/2/1821/ + +Produced by Don Lainson; David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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