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diff --git a/old/65036-0.txt b/old/65036-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index c07848f..0000000 --- a/old/65036-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3085 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Young Folks Magazine, Vol. I, No. 1, March -1902, by H. L. Coggins - -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: Young Folks Magazine, Vol. I, No. 1, March 1902 - An Illustrated Monthly Journal for Boys & Girls - -Editor: H. L. Coggins - -Release Date: April 09, 2021 [eBook #65036] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -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 YOUNG FOLKS MAGAZINE, VOL. I, NO. -1, MARCH 1902 *** - - - - - YOUNG FOLKS MAGAZINE - - VOLUME 1 NUMBER 1 - - 1902 MARCH - - _An_ ILLUSTRATED MONTHLY JOURNAL _for_ BOYS & GIRLS - - The Penn Publishing Company Philadelphia - - - - - CONTENTS FOR MARCH - - - PAGE - WITH WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE (Serial) W. Bert Foster 1 - Illustrated by F. A. Carter - - AT THE BEND OF THE TRAIL Otis T. Merrill 11 - - TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW (Verse) Mackay 13 - - A DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST (Serial) Evelyn Raymond 14 - Illustrated by Ida Waugh - - MARCH (Poem) Bayard Taylor 22 - - WOOD-FOLK TALK J. Allison Atwood 23 - Illustrated by the Author - - LITTLE POLLY PRENTISS (Serial) Elizabeth Lincoln Gould 25 - Illustrated by Ida Waugh - - A RAMBLE IN EARLY SPRING Julia McNair Wright 31 - - WITH THE EDITOR 32 - - EVENT AND COMMENT 33 - - IN-DOORS (Parlor Magic) Ellis Stanyon 34 - - THE OLD TRUNK 36 - - WITH THE PUBLISHER 37 - - - YOUNG FOLKS MAGAZINE - _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 - - - Young Folks Magazine - - VOL. I MARCH 1902 No. 1 - - - - - WITH WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE - - By W. Bert Foster - - - CHAPTER I - - Unwelcome Guests at the Three Oaks Inn - -All day the strident whistle of the locust had declared for a -continuation of the parching heat. The meadows lay brown under the -glare of the August sun; the roads were deep in powdery yellow dust. -The cattle stood with sweating flanks in the shade of the oaks which -bordered the stage track, and although the sun was now declining toward -the summits of the distant mountains, all nature continued in the -somnolence of a summer day. - -A huddle of sheep under a wagon shed and the lolling form of a big -collie dog in the barnyard were the only signs of life about the Three -Oaks Inn. Mistress and maids, as well as the guests now sheltered by -its moss-grown roof, had retired to the cooler chambers, and Jonas -Benson, the portly landlord, snored loudly in his armchair in the hall. -Out of this hall, with its exposed beams of time-blackened oak and its -high fanlight over the entrance, opened the main room, its floor sanded -in an intricate pattern that very morning by one of the maids. Across -the hall was the closed door of the darkened parlor. - -Had Jonas Benson been of a more wakeful mind this hot afternoon, it is -quite likely that this narrative would never have been written. But -he snored on while behind the closed door of the parlor were whispered -words which, had they reached the ears of the landlord of the Three -Oaks, would have put him instantly on the alert. - -The year was 1777, a fateful one indeed for the American arms in the -struggle for liberty--a year of both blessing and misfortune for the -patriot cause. Within its twelve months the Continental army achieved -some notable victories; but it suffered, too, memorable defeats. It -was the year when human liberty seemed trembling in the balance, when -all nations--even France--stood aloof, waiting to see whether the -star of the American Colonies was setting or on the ascendant. The -British army, under Howe and Clinton, occupied New York. Washington -and his little force lay near Philadelphia, then the capital of the -newly-formed confederation. New Jersey--all the traveled ways between -the two armies--was disputed territory, disturbed continually by a sort -of guerilla warfare most hard for the peacefully-inclined farmers and -tradespeople to bear. - -Spies of both sides in the great conflict infested the country: -foraging parties, like the rain, descended upon the just and the -unjust; and neighbors who had lived in harmony for years before the war -broke out, now were at daggers’ points. The Tories had grown confident -because of the many set-backs endured by the patriot forces. Many even -prophesied that, when Burgoyne’s army, then being gathered beyond the -Canadian border, should descend the valleys of upper New York and -finally join Howe and Clinton, the handful of Americans bearing arms -against the king would be fairly swept into the sea, or ground to -powder between the victorious British lines. - -Jonas Benson was intensely patriotic, and the Three Oaks had given -shelter oft and again to scouts and foraging parties of the Continental -troops. The inn-keeper had given the pick of his horses to the army, -reserving few but such nags as were positively needed for the coach -which went down to Trenton at irregular intervals. There were more than -his staid coach horses in the stable on this afternoon, however, and -the fact was much to his distaste. - -There had arrived at the Three Oaks the evening before a private -carriage drawn by a pair of handsome bays and driven by a most -solemn-faced Jehu, whose accent was redolent of Bow Bells. With the -carriage came a gentleman--a fierce, military-looking man, though -not in uniform--who rode a charger, which, so Jonas told his wife, -would have made a saint envious, providing the latter were a judge of -horseflesh. Inside the carriage rode a very pretty girl of sixteen or -seventeen, whose dress and appearance were much different from the -plain country lasses of that region. - -“They’re surely gentle folk, Jonas,” Mistress Benson had declared. “The -sweet child is a little lady--see how proud she holds herself. Law! -it’s been a long day since we served real gentles here.” - -Jonas snorted disdainfully; he suspected that at heart his good -wife had royalist tendencies. As for him, the American officers who -sometimes made the Three Oaks their headquarters for a few days were -fine enough folk. “I tell ye what, woman,” he said, “they may be great -folk or not; one thing I do know. They possess great influence or -they’d never gotten through the Britishers with them fine nags. And if -the outposts weren’t so far away, I’m blessed if I believe they’d get -away from here without our own lads having a shy at the horses.” - -But the Bensons were too busy making their guests comfortable to -discuss them--or their horses--to any length. Colonel Creston Knowles -was the name the gentleman gave, and the girl was his daughter, Miss -Lillian. The driver of the carriage, who served the colonel as valet -as well, was called William, and a more stony-faced, unemotional -individual it had never been the fate of the Bensons to observe. It -was utterly impossible to draw from this servant a word regarding his -master’s business between the lines of the opposing armies. - -These visitors were not desired by Jonas. He kept a public house, and, -for the sake of being at peace with everybody, his Tory neighbors -included, he treated all guests who came to the Three Oaks with -unfailing cordiality. But the presence of Colonel Knowles at this time -was bound to cause trouble. - -The inn was on the road usually traversed by those in haste to reach -Philadelphia, where, while Washington’s army was posted nearby, -Congress held its session. Many a time in the dead of night there was -the rattle of hoofs on the road, as a breathless rider dashed up to -the door, and with a loud “Halloa” aroused the stable boy. Then in -a few moments, mounted afresh, he would hurry on into the darkness. -These dispatch-bearers of the American army knew they could trust mine -host of the Three Oaks, and that a ridable nag could always be found -somewhere in his stable. - -The very night Colonel Knowles arrived at the tavern there was an -occurrence of this kind. And after the dispatch-bearer had gone, and -Jonas and Hadley Morris, the stable boy, stood in the paved yard -watching him disappear on the moonlit road, they saw a night-capped -head at the colonel’s window. - -“We’ll have no peace, Had, while yon Britisher’s hereabout,” muttered -the old man. - -“I wonder why he has come into this country, so far from New York?” was -the boy’s observation. “He can’t be upon military service, though he be -a colonel in his majesty’s army.” - -“He’s here for no good, mark that, Had,” grumbled Jonas. “I’d rather -have no guests at the Three Oaks than men of his kidney.” - -“His daughter is a pretty girl, and kindly spoken.” - -“That may be--that may be,” testily. “You’re as shortsighted as my old -wife, Had. You’ll both let this Master Creston Knowles throw dust in -your eyes because he’s got a pretty daughter. Bah!” - -And Jonas stumbled back to bed, leaving Hadley Morris to retire to his -couch on the loft floor of the stable. - -But had these well-founded suspicions been to any purpose, the -inn-keeper surely would have remained awake on the afternoon our story -opens, instead of lolling, sound asleep, in his wide chair in the hall. -Behind the parlor door, not ten feet away from mine host of the Three -Oaks, Colonel Creston Knowles was conversing in a low tone with his -serving man. - -“And you say it happened twice during the night, sirrah?” queried -the British officer, who spoke to everybody but his daughter with -sternness. - -“Twice, hand it please ye, sir. Hi’m sure the stable was hopened once -hafter the time you was hup, sir, hand another ’orse taken hout. My -life! but Hi thought hit thieves hat first, sir--some o’ them murderin’ -cowboys; but the young lad has tends to the ’orses seemed to know them -that came, hand they did not touch hour hanimals, sir.” - -“It’s a regular nest of rebels!” exclaimed the colonel, his brow black -enough at the report. “Such places as this should be razed to the -earth. The spies who report to this Mr. Washington and his brother -rebels evidently have free course through the country. They even -exchange their steeds here--and Malcolm’s troop lying less than six -miles away this very day. William!” - -“Yes, sir?” - -The colonel beckoned him nearer and whispered an inaudible order in -the man’s ear. There was no change of expression upon the servant’s -countenance, and the command might have been welcome or distasteful as -far as an observer could have told. When the colonel ceased speaking, -William rose without a word and tiptoed cautiously to the door. On -pulling this ajar, however, the lusty snoring of Jonas Benson warned -him of the inn-keeper’s presence. He closed the door again, nodded to -the colonel, and vaulted through one of the open windows, thus making -his exit without disturbing the landlord. - -But although everybody about the tavern itself seemed to be slumbering, -the colonel’s man found that he could not enter the stable without -being observed. As he came out of the glare of sunshine into the half -darkness of the wide threshing floor, the Englishman suddenly came upon -a figure standing between him and the narrow window at the further -end of the stable. It was the stable boy and he was just buckling the -saddle-girth upon a nervous little black mare whose bit was fastened to -a long halter hanging from one of the cross-beams. - -Hadley Morris was a brawny youth for his age, which was seventeen. He -was by no means handsome, and few boys would be attractive-looking in -the clothing of a stable boy. Yet there was that in his carriage, in -the keenness of his eye, in the firm lines of his chin and lip, which -would have attracted a second glance from any thoughtful observer. -Hadley had been now more than a year at the Three Oaks Inn, ever since -it had become too unpleasant for him to longer remain with his uncle, -Ephraim Morris, a Tory farmer of the neighborhood. Hadley was legally -bound to Ephraim, better known, perhaps, as “Miser Morris,” and, of -course, was not permitted to join the patriot army as he had wished. -The youth might have broken away from his uncle altogether had he so -desired, but there were good reasons why he had not yet taken this -decisive step. - -He had found it impossible to live longer under his uncle’s roof, -however, and therefore had gone to work for Jonas Benson; but he still -considered himself bound to his uncle, and Jonas grumblingly paid over -to the farmer the monthly wage which the boy faithfully earned. Hadley -found occasion oft and again to further the cause which in his soul he -espoused. It was he rather than the landlord who saw to it that the -fleetest horse in the stable was ready saddled against the expected -arrival of one of those dispatch-bearers whose coming and going had -disturbed Colonel Knowles the night before. As he now tightened the -girth of the mare’s trappings she danced about as though eager to be -footing it along the stage road toward the river. - -Hadley was startled by the sudden appearance of the colonel’s servant -in the doorway of the barn. - -“So you are riding hout, too?” observed the latter, going toward the -stalls occupied by his master’s thoroughbreds. “There’s a deal of going -back and forth ’ere, hit seems to me.” - -“Oh, it’s nothing so lively as it was before the war broke out,” Hadley -explained, good-naturedly. “Then the coaches went out thrice a week to -Trenton, and one of the New York and Philadelphia stages always stopped -here, going and coming. Business is killed and the country is all but -dead now.” - -William grunted as he backed out one of the carriage horses and threw -his master’s saddle upon it. “You’re going out yourself, I see.” Hadley -said, observing that the man did not saddle the colonel’s charger. - -“Hi’ve got to give the beasts some hexercise if we’re goin’ ter lie -’ere day hafter day,” grumbled William, and swung himself quickly into -the saddle. - -The boy went to the open door and watched him ride heavily away from -the inn, with a puzzled frown upon his brow. “He’s never going for -exercise such a hot afternoon as this,” muttered the youth. “There! -he’s put the horse on the gallop. He’s going somewhere a-purpose--and -he’s in haste. Will he take the turn to the Mills, I wonder, or keep -straight on for Trenton?” - -The trees which shaded the road hid horse and rider, and leaving the -little mare dancing on the barn floor, Hadley ran hastily up the ladder -to the loft, and then by a second ladder reached the little cupola, -or ventilator, which Master Benson had built atop his barn. From this -point of vantage all the roads converging near the Three Oaks Inn could -be traced for several miles. - -Behind the cluster of tall trees which gave the inn its name, a road -branched off toward the Mills. In a minute or less the watcher saw a -horseman dash along this road amid a cloud of dust. - -“He’s bound for the Mills--and in a wonderful hurry. What was it Lafe -Holdness told us when he was along here the other day? Something about -a troop of British horse being at the Mills, I’ll be bound.” Then -he turned toward the east and looked carefully along the brown road -on which any person coming from the way of New York would naturally -travel. “Well, there’s nobody in sight yet. If that fellow means -mischief--Ah! but it’s six miles to the Mills and if he continues to -ride like that on this hot day the horse will be winded long before he -gets there.” - -He went down the ladders, however, with anxious face, and during the -ensuing hour made many trips to the wide gateway which opened upon the -dusty road. There was not a sign of life, however, in either direction. - -Meanwhile the tavern awakened to its ordinary life and bustle. The -last rays of the sun slanted over the mountain tops and the shadows -crept farther and farther across the meadows. The old collie arose -and stretched himself lazily, while the tinkle of sheep bells and the -heavier jangle which betrayed the approach of the cattle cut the warm -air sharply. Even a breeze arose and curled the road dust in little -spirals and rustled the oak leaves. Dusk was approaching to relieve -panting nature. - -Jonas awoke with a start and came out upon the tavern porch to stretch -himself. He saw Hadley standing by the gateway and asked: - -“Got the mare saddled, Had?” - -“Yes, sir. She’s been standing on the barn floor for an hour. One of -the other horses has gone out, sir.” - -“Heh? How’s that?” He tiptoed softly to the end of the porch so as to -be close above the boy. “Who’s been here?” he asked. - -“Nobody. But the colonel’s man took one of those bays and started for -the Mills an hour ago.” - -“I d’know as I like the sound of that,” muttered Jonas. “I wish these -folks warn’t here--that I do. They aint meanin’ no good--” - -“Hush!” whispered Hadley, warningly. - -From the wide tavern door there suddenly appeared the British colonel’s -daughter. She was indeed a pretty girl and her smile was infectious. -Even Jonas’ face cleared at sight of her and he hastened, as well as a -man of his portliness could, to set a chair for her. - -“It is very beautiful here,” Miss Lillian said, “and so peaceful. I got -so tired in New York seeing soldiers everywhere and hearing about war. -It doesn’t seem as though anything ever happened here.” - -“I b’lieve something’s goin’ to happen b’fore long, though,” the -landlord whispered anxiously to Hadley, and walked to the other end of -the porch, leaving the two young people together. - -“It is usually very quiet about here,” Hadley said, trying to speak -easily to the guest. He was not at all used to girls, and Miss Lillian -was altogether out of his class. He felt himself rough and uncouth in -her presence. “But we see soldiers once in a while.” - -“Our soldiers?” asked the girl, smiling. - -“No--not British soldiers,” Hadley replied, slowly. - -“Oh, you surely don’t call those ragamuffin colonists soldiers, do -you?” she asked, quickly. - -A crimson flush spread from Hadley’s bronzed neck to his brow; but a -little smile followed and his eyes twinkled. “I don’t know what you’d -really call them; but they made your grenadiers fall back at Bunker -Hill.” - -Miss Lillian bit her lip in anger; then, as she looked down into the -stable boy’s face her own countenance cleared and she laughed aloud. -“I don’t think I’ll quarrel with you,” she said. “You are a rebel, I -suppose, and I am an English girl. You don’t know what it means to be -born across the water, and--” - -“Oh, yes I do. I was born in England myself,” Hadley returned. “My -mother brought me across when she came to keep house for Uncle Ephraim -Morris--” - -“Who?” interposed Lillian, turning towards him again, with astonishment -in both voice and countenance. - -“My mother.” - -“No, no! I mean the man--your uncle. What is his name?” - -“Ephraim Morris. He is a farmer back yonder,” and Hadley pointed over -his shoulder. “My name is Hadley Morris.” - -Before Lillian could comment upon this, or explain her sudden interest -in his uncle’s name, both were startled by an exclamation from the -landlord at the other end of the porch. - -“Had! Had!” he called. “He’s coming.” - -Hadley left the gate at once and leaped into the road. Far down the -dusty highway there appeared a little balloon of dust, and the faint -ring of rapid hoofs reached their ears. Somebody was riding furiously -toward the inn from the east. Lillian rose to look, too, and in the -doorway appeared the military figure of her father. His face looked -very grim indeed as he gazed, as the others were doing, down the road. - -The advancing horseman was less than a quarter of a mile away when, of -a sudden, there sounded a single pistol shot--then another and another. -It was a scattering volley, but at the first report those watching at -the inn could see the approaching horse fairly leap ahead under the -spur of its rider. - -“Ha! the scoundrels are after him!” cried the inn-keeper, his fat face -paling. - -The colonel’s countenance expressed sudden satisfaction. “Go into -the house, Lillian!” he commanded. “There will be trouble here in a -moment.” He brought out from under his coat tails as he spoke a huge -pistol such as was usually carried in saddle holsters at that day. - -Hadley Morris, from the centre of the road, did not see the colonel’s -weapon. He only observed the approaching horseman in the cloud of dust, -and knew him to be a dispatch-bearer aiming to reach the ferry and -Washington’s headquarters beyond. In a moment there loomed up behind -him a group of pursuers riding neck and neck upon his trail. They were -British dragoons and the space between them and their prey was scarce a -hundred yards. - - - CHAPTER II - - RELATING A WILD NIGHT RIDE - -It did not take a very sharp eye to observe that the horse which -the messenger bestrode was laboring sorely, while his pursuers were -blessed with comparatively fresh mounts. The American had ridden long -and hard, and his steed was in no shape for such a spurt of speed as -it was put to now. The British had kept clear of this road for weeks, -because of the foraging parties from Philadelphia, and, doubtless, the -dispatch-bearer hoped to find at the Three Oaks those who would stand -him well in this emergency. - -At least, there would be a fresh horse there, and perhaps a faithful -man or two to help beat off the dragoons until he could escape with -his precious charge. He had no thought that there was a still greater -danger ahead of him. The dragoons were lashing and spurring their -horses to the utmost; and now and again one took a potshot at him; but -there on the porch of the old inn stood Colonel Knowles, waiting with -all the calmness of a sportsman to bring the fleeing man to earth. - -Young Hadley Morris did not notice the colonel; he had forgotten his -presence in his interest in the flight and pursuit. But Jonas Benson -saw his guest’s big pistol and realized the danger to the approaching -fugitive. Yet there seemed nothing he could do to avert the calamity. -He dared not openly attack the colonel, for whether the dispatch-bearer -escaped or no, the dragoons would be at the inn in a few moments, and, -there being no such force of Americans in the neighborhood, they might -wreak vengeance on him and his family. The old man was hard put to it, -indeed, in this emergency. - -Not so Hadley, however. He was quick of thought and quite as brisk of -action. The charge of galloping horse was but a short distance away, -the American still a little in the lead, when the boy darted back to -the heavy barred gate which shut the yard from the road. The barrier -had been swung wide open and fastened with a loop of rope to a hook in -the side of the house. He slipped this fastening and stood ready to -shut the gate between the fugitive and his pursuers, and thus delay the -latter for a possible few moments. - -If the dispatch-bearer got into the yard safely he could leap upon the -back of the black mare now standing impatiently on the barn floor, -and escape his pursuers through the fields and orchard back of the -outbuildings. No ordinary horse would be able to leap the high gate, -and Hadley did not believe the dragoons were overly well mounted. As -the dispatch-bearer dashed up, foam flying from his horse’s mouth and -the blood dripping from its flanks where the cruel spurs had done -their work, it looked to Colonel Knowles as though the American would -ride right by, and he raised his pistol in a deliberate intention of -bringing the man to earth. - -But as he pulled the trigger old Jonas stumbled against him and the -ball went wide of its mark. The shot did much harm, however, for it -frightened the already maddened horse, which leaped to one side, -pitching the man completely over its head upon the paving of the yard. -The horse fell, too, but outside the gate, and Hadley was able to slam -the barrier and drop the bar into place before the dragoons arrived. - -The explosion of the colonel’s pistol and that officer’s angry shout -warned Hadley of the added and closer danger. He darted to the side of -the fallen messenger. The poor fellow had struggled partly up and was -tearing at his coat. His face was covered with blood, for he was badly -injured by his fall; but one thought kept him conscious. - -[Illustration: HE DARTED TOWARD THE FALLEN MESSENGER] - -“The papers--the papers, lad!” he gasped. “For General -Washington--quick!” - -But he had only half pulled the packet from his inner pocket when he -dropped back upon the flagstones, and, with a groan, lay still. - -Hadley seized the precious packet and leaped to his feet. With a -clatter of hoofs and amid a cloud of dust the dragoons arrived at the -yard gate. - -“There he is! He’s down--down!” shouted the leader. “We’ve got him -safe! Hi, there landlord! open your gate or we’ll batter it in!” - -“They’ve got him safe, that’s a fact,” muttered Hadley, in distress. -“But--but they haven’t got the papers!” - -He turned swiftly and ran toward the barn. - -“There goes one of them running!” shouted a voice behind. Then a pistol -exploded and Hadley leaped forward as though the ball had stung him, -although it whistled far above his head. - -“Look out for that boy!” he heard Colonel Knowles say, and, glancing -back, Hadley saw the officer leaning out of one of the windows which -overlooked the yard. At a neighboring casement the fleeing youth saw -Miss Lillian. Even at that distance, and in so perilous a moment, -Hadley noted that the girl’s face was very pale and that she watched -him with clasped hands and anxious countenance. - -One of the dragoons had dismounted and now unbarred the gate. Before -Hadley reached the wide doorway of the great barn the soldiers were -trooping through into the yard. - -“The boy has the papers--look after him, I tell you!” he heard the -colonel shout. Then Hadley pulled the great door shut and fastened it -securely on the inside. For an instant he could breathe. - -But only for an instant. The dragoons were at the door then, beating -upon it with the hilts of their sabres and pistol-butts, demanding -entrance. Hadley had no weapon had he desired to defend the barn from -attack. And that would be a foolish attempt, indeed. It would be an -easy matter for the dragoons to break down the fences and surround the -barn so that he could not escape, and then beat in the door and capture -him--and with him the papers. He did not know how valuable those -documents might be; but the man now lying senseless in the inn yard had -saved them at the risk of his life; the boy felt it his duty to do as -much. - -Colonel Knowles had now come out into the yard and taken command of the -attack. Evidently he was recognized by the British soldiers, despite -his civilian’s dress. He gave orders for a timber to be brought to beat -in the door, and Hadley likewise heard him send two of the soldiers -around the barn to watch the rear. If the boy would escape it must be -within the next few seconds. - -He ran back to the rear of the building. Here was another wide door and -he flung it open. The soldiers had not appeared; but the doorsill was -a good eight feet and more from the ground. The barn had been built -on a hillside. Directly below the door was a pen in which hogs were -kept. Eight feet was a good drop, and besides it would be impossible to -escape the soldiers on foot. - -A crash sounded at the front of the building. The men had brought up -the timber for a battering ram. The door would certainly be burst -inward before many moments. Hadley ran back to the waiting mare that -already seemed to share his own excitement. He freed her from the -halter and sprang into the saddle. He dared not try getting past his -enemies when the door fell and with a quick jerk of the rein he pulled -the mare around. She trotted swiftly to the rear door which the boy had -flung open; but when she saw the distance to the ground below, her ears -went back and she crouched. - -“You’ve got to do it, Molly!” exclaimed the boy, desperately. He -reached to the stanchion at his right hand and seized a riding-whip -hanging there. As the mare continued to back, Hadley brought the lash -down again and again upon her quivering flank. The poor beast was not -used to such treatment, and in her rage and fright she forgot the -danger ahead and leaped straight out from the open stable door. - -Hadley stood up in the stirrups when he felt her go. He knew where she -would land, and he believed the feat would be without danger; but he -was ready to kick out of the stirrups and save himself if the little -mare missed her footing. - -Fortunately she landed just where her rider had planned. There was a -pile of straw and barn scrapings below the door, and from this Black -Molly rebounded as though from a mattress. She was not an instant -in recovering herself, and, still frightened by the sting of the -whip-lash, darted out through the orchard. Hadley flung away the whip, -and, leaning forward, hugged her neck so as not to be swept off by the -low branches of the apple trees. - -There was a wild halloa behind him. The dragoons sent to cut off his -escape had arrived too late; but they emptied their pistols at the -black mare and her young rider. - -“They won’t give up so easily,” Hadley muttered, not daring to look -around while still in the orchard. “That Colonel Knowles would rather -die than be outwitted by a boy. I’ll make right for the ferry, and -perhaps I may meet Holdness somewhere on the road. I can give the -papers up to him, and I know he’ll find some way of getting them to -General Washington.” - -He pulled Black Molly’s head around and took a nearer slant for the -road. The mare was more easily managed now, and when he reached the -rail fence which divided the orchard from the highway his mount had -forgotten her fright and allowed him to stop and fling down a part -of the fence so that they could get through and down the bank into -the road. Looking back before descending the bank, Hadley saw several -horsemen streaming through the orchard behind him, and, more to be -feared than these, was the party leaving the inn yard and taking to -the very road out upon which he had come. At the head of this second -cavalcade rode Colonel Knowles himself on his great charger, and -Hadley’s heart sank. Black Molly was famed throughout the countryside -for her speed; but that great beast of the colonel’s--evidently brought -from across the sea, and a thoroughbred hunter--would be more than a -match for the little mare in a long chase. - -“We must do our best, Molly,” cried the boy, slapping her side with his -palm and riding down into the dusty road. “You can keep ahead of them, -I know, for a short distance, and you must do your best now. It will -soon be too dark for them to see us--that’s a blessing.” - -The little mare needed no spur or urging. She clattered along the -darkening road with head down and neck outstretched, Hadley riding with -a loose rein and letting her pick her own way over the track. He could -trust to her instinct more safely than to his own sight. The oaks cast -thick shadows across his path, and now the whole sky was turning a deep -indigo, dotted here and there with star points. There was no moon until -later, and he believed the darkness was more favorable to him than to -his pursuers. - -He could hear the thunder of the hoofs behind him, however, and he -patted Molly’s neck encouragingly and talked to her as she ran. “Go it, -girl! you’ve got to go!” he said. “Just make your little feet fly. -Remember the times I’ve rubbed you down, and fed you, and taken you to -water. Just do your very prettiest, my girl, for it’s more than my life -you’ve got to save--it’s these papers, whatever they be.” - -And the little mare seemed to understand what he said, for she strained -every effort for speed. She fairly skimmed over the ground, and for the -first mile or more the hoof-beats gained not at all upon them. Then, to -Hadley’s straining ears, it seemed as though the pursuit grew closer. -It was not a mob of hoof-beats which he heard, but the steady, unbroken -gallop of one horse. And it took little intuition for the boy to know -which this leading pursuer was. The great black charger, the colonel’s -mount, had left the dragoons behind, and its stride was now shortening -the distance rapidly between its master and himself. - -“Oh, Molly, run--run!” gasped the boy, digging his heels into the -mare’s sides. - -Molly was doing her best, but the sound of the black horse’s hoofs grew -louder. The road was not straight or Hadley might have looked back and -seen the colonel bearing down upon him. But the officer could doubtless -follow his prey by the sound of Molly’s feet, quite as accurately as -Hadley could estimate his speed. At this thought, and hoping to put his -pursuer at a disadvantage for the moment, the boy pulled the mare out -upon the level sward beside the road. There Black Molly pattered along -silently: but the boy could hear the thunder of pursuit growing louder -and louder. - -Now that the clatter of his own mount’s hoofs were not in his ears, -Hadley was suddenly aware of a new sound cutting the night air. And it -was not from the rear, but from ahead--the loud complaint of ungreased -axles: a low, heavy wagon was coming slowly along the road. - -“If it should be Holdness!” gasped the boy. “It sounds like his wagon.” - -Around another turn in the crooked road they flashed and then the -creaking of the wheels was quite near. A great covered wagon loomed up -in the dusk, and Hadley uttered a cry of joy. - -“Lafe! Lafe Holdness!” he shouted, while yet the wagon was some rods -away. - -But the driver of the squeaking vehicle heard him, and there was a -flash of light as he rose up on the footboard and held the lantern -above his head. - -“Hi, there! slow down or ye’ll run over me!” drawled a nasal voice. - -“The British are after me--I’ve got dispatches!” shouted the boy, -reining in the mare beside the wagon. - -“Had Morris, as I’m a livin’ sinner! What ye doin’ here?” Then the -driver cocked his head and listened to the thud of hoofs behind the -flying boy. “They’re arter ye close, lad--an’ Molly’s winded. Quick! -there’s naught but straw in here. It’s your best chance.” - -The wagon was still creaking slowly along and Holdness did not stop his -team. He dropped the lantern and dodged back to the rear of the wagon. -There he quickly flung aside the end curtain and then returned to the -driver’s seat. - -Hadley had ridden by, but the instant he saw the curtain raised he -wheeled Molly about and aimed her for the end of the huge wagon. -“Quick, girl! You’ve done it before,” muttered the boy, and the little -mare obeyed. The driver did not bring his wagon to a stop, but it was -moving very slowly. Molly had long since learned the trick expected of -her, and she trotted up to the rear of the vehicle, rose in the air, -and landed firmly on the straw-covered bottom. - -“Draw the curtain, Had, ’n’ keep yer hand on her nose,” commanded -Holdness, the teamster, without turning his head. - -Already the boy had ordered the little mare to lie down and she had -sunk upon the straw. He whipped down the curtain, fastened it, and then -lay down beside the mare with his hand upon her velvety nose, ready to -stifle any desire on her part to whinny when the pursuing horses should -arrive. - -And they were here in a moment now. Colonel Knowles, on his great -charger, ahead, and the company of dragoons not many rods behind. - -[TO BE CONTINUED] - -[Illustration] - - - - - AT THE BEND OF THE TRAIL - - By OTIS T. MERRILL - - -“Well, hurry back, boy. You’re rather green, you know, to be going out -alone.” The captain winked at Sergeant Mills as Tom Ray turned towards -his horse. - -There had been no fighting as yet, and Tom was rather disappointed, -for, to tell the truth, it was love of adventure rather than patriotism -that had induced him to join the little squad of cavalry then -journeying through the heart of the Apache country. They had encamped -in the little valley of the Salt River, in Arizona. The land was dry -and parched. Even the hardy cactus was taking on a leathery hue. - -To Tom it was a monotonous view--the yellow earth: that everlasting -Giant Cactus; and occasionally the tall, bleached form of a dead tree, -reaching its arms despairingly upward from the dearth of life below. - -With some little impatience he urged the pony into a gallop. In an hour -he must be at the fork of the Salt to receive Custer’s dispatches. -Everybody had wondered why Tom Ray, the only one in the party who -had never heard an Indian war-whoop, should have been chosen for the -work. It was a case of eloquence. Tom pleaded, and the captain--who -wasn’t much afraid of Indians himself--forgot his military caution and -consented. - -The first two miles of the journey lay back along their own trail to -the point where a long depression in the plain marked the bed of some -old river. From there he must turn sharp to the right and make for the -foot of the lone gray butte, about whose base wound the west branch of -the Salt. He had started early, and it was not yet four o’clock when -he reached the crossing of the low ground. He paused for a moment and -looked about him. - -A large shadow rolled along the ground before him and caught his eye. -From overhead came the shrill cry of an eagle--the same bird who, in -spite of numerous rifle balls, had aroused the admiration of the whole -party on the previous day, by its mad swoops in their direction. - -Tom cast a reluctant glance at the distant cottonwood and the huge pile -of sticks saddled in its crotch. The old egg-collecting instinct welled -up strongly within him, but he held the mustang’s head resolutely away. -In his mind he already pictured the impatience of the old scout at the -fork and, hardly daring to take a second look at the nest, he again -brought the little pony to a full gallop. - -Cris Wood had been a bearer of government dispatches ever since the -thriving settlement of Hopkins’ Bend could boast of a telegraph wire. -His greeting for the “youngster,” as he termed Tom Ray, was that of an -old friend:-- - -“What have you been waiting for, t’ give the Indians a chance to scalp -me?” - -Tom laughed as he looked at the scant fringe of gray beneath the rough, -worn hat. - -“I guess they wouldn’t be paid for their trouble,” he answered, as he -took the well-handled dispatches from the old scout. - -“No, not by me,” retorted the latter, grimly. “But, anyway, there’s -only one lot of Indians around, and they’re way over at the crossing,” -referring to a point on Tom’s return journey. - -“All right,” responded Tom, amused at the scout’s time-honored attempt -to play on his nerves. “If I see them, I’ll give them the chase of -their lives.” - -“You’ll be the front party, most likely, though.” - -A few more courtesies were tossed freely from one to the other, -together with what little news had fallen in the way of both before -they parted. - -Half an hour later, as the return road before him sank gently to the -lower ground, Tom’s eyes were again drawn instinctively to the tall -cottonwood. Though still distant, he could already see the watchful -eagle silhouetted from its topmost point. The sun was yet high--he -might as well have a look at the nest. With this Tom drew the horse’s -head in the direction of the great cottonwood. - -The boy’s approach to the lofty tree was greatly resented by the pair -of golden eagles who had chosen it as a site for their home. A little -ball of cottony down showed itself over the side of the rude structure. -There was at least one eaglet, and Tom knew then that it would be with -no small danger to himself if he chose to investigate. Then there came -to him the misty recollection of the tame eagle which Jack Warren, one -of the cowboys, had brought into camp. With this bit of memory his -hesitation vanished. - -The tree was bare and barked. Its lower branches had long since rotted -and now lay on the ground crumbling. Rough knots remained, however, -here and there, and by grasping these Tom was able to make the ascent. -The old birds whirled round the tree in giant spirals. First one and -then the other would suddenly swerve from the circle and sweep past the -boy’s head so close that he would involuntarily throw up his arm in -defence. - -When Tom was about thirty feet from the ground all thought of the -infuriated birds was suddenly driven from his mind. At a distance of -perhaps one hundred yards stood an unusually thick clump of cactus. -In the midst of this, peering intently at him, was a dark, bronzed -face--that of an Apache Indian. A wave of terror swept over the boy, -and in his fright he imagined he could even discern the triumphant -expression upon the swarthy visage, as it sank behind the dark barrier. - -Then all of a sudden he became cool. He looked for his horse. To his -dismay he discovered that the animal had wandered some little distance -from the tree. Then he realized his danger. - -If he descended at once it would be to certain death. His only hope lay -in strategy. - -Immediately he again began the struggle upward. All the suppressed -energy of the moment went into the grip of his hands as they took hold -of the rough knots. The eagles became more demonstrative, and more than -once the swish of a powerful wing caused him to duck his head. But of -this he was hardly conscious. When at length he bent over the nest, -under pretense of examining it, Tom’s eyes were in reality strained -in an attempt to locate the enemy. He never knew whether the nest -contained one or two eaglets. - -His mustang and the Indian were about the same distance from the tree. -But how was he to reach the animal? A too sudden descent would arouse -suspicion. At length, with every nerve on edge for the trial to come, -he began to work his way down. The eagles, their courage increased with -apparent victory, gave even freer utterance to their rage, and their -shrieks as they swooped past his head rang in the boy’s ears for many -a day afterward. On a sudden thought, as if in mockery, he took up the -cries of the birds, imitating them by long, piercing whistles. - -Presently the sound varied, yet to such a slight degree that a listener -might not have noted it. Tip, the pony, however, did seem to notice -it, and at each call would lift his head impatiently and look in the -direction of the tree. Finally, as if by a familiar impulse, he tossed -his head in air, and walked slowly toward the well-known call. - -All the while Tom had kept his face in such a direction that the Indian -could not have left his ambush without being discovered. The pony was -now within twenty paces of the tree. By way of distracting the Indian’s -attention, the boy waved his hat and shouted to an imaginary comrade. - -Then, fifteen feet from the ground, first throwing a quick glance -at his steed, Tom allowed himself to drop. As he did so the dreaded -war-whoop rang out from the distant clump. To his horror, an answering -call came from just ahead of him. Once on the ground, he darted toward -the horse. A cactus plant, which on ordinary occasions he would -have given a wide berth, brushed sharply against him, yet, in his -excitement, he hardly felt the pain it caused. - -In the next instant he had swung into the saddle and wheeled the pony’s -head toward the camp. The first glance ahead, however, revealed the -supple body of an Indian half concealed by a cactus bush. There was -no choice. Striking his spurs into the pony, Tom dashed forward. The -Indian suddenly dropped his rifle and crouched beside a Giant Cactus. -As Tom and the mustang flew past he made a panther-like leap, and -throwing his arms about the boy, tried to drag him from the saddle. -Turning upon him, Tom seized the lithe arms and with all his strength -tried to throw the enemy from him. But the grip of the savage was like -that of a wild animal, and the boy’s most vigorous efforts failed to -break it. - -While the Indian and boy were thus struggling, the mustang had made -good some one hundred yards, in spite of the double burden. Though -greatly excited, Tom thought of the six-shooter at his belt, but before -he could reach it a quick movement of the savage pinned his arms to -his side. The boy then worked his hand under the wiry arm which held a -strangling grip on his neck. As he did so, his eyes met a sight that -changed his purpose. He thought a moment of the savage clinging to him. -Then, with all his strength, he wrapped his arms around the Indian and -imprisoned him. The Indian was confused by the change of action, and, -like a wild animal, fought to release himself, for by this time he, -too, saw Sergeant Mills and three other approaching horsemen. - -A party of soldiers, wondering at the boy’s delay, had ridden out from -the camp, and they were not a little surprised to see Tom galloping -toward them, carrying what to them was a very odd looking burden. When, -upon nearer approach, this object developed into a full-grown Apache -Indian, their astonishment knew no bounds, and they hastened forward, -lest the prisoner, in his fierce struggles, should escape them. - -Ten minutes later, the Indian, bound hand and foot, was brought before -the captain, and at the same time Tom handed over the all-important -dispatches. As he did so, the boy’s spirits reacted from their strained -condition and his sense of humor asserted itself. - -“Well, captain,” he said, “I knew that you didn’t want me to be out -alone, so I brought this Indian along, just to keep me company.” - - - - - TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW - - - If fortune, with a smiling face - Strew roses on our way, - When shall we stoop to pick them up? - To-day, my friend, to-day. - But should she frown with face of care, - And talk of coming sorrow, - When shall we grieve, if grieve we must? - To-morrow, friend, to-morrow. - - --_Mackay_ - - - - - A DAUGHTER OF THE FOREST - - By Evelyn Raymond - - - CHAPTER I - - The Storm - -“Margot! Margot!” - -Mother Angelique’s anxious call rang out over the water, once, -twice, many times. But, though she shaded her brows with her hands -and strained her keen ears to listen, there was no one visible and -no response came back to her. So she climbed the hill again and, -reëntering the cabin, began to stir with almost vicious energy the -contents of a pot swinging in the wide fireplace. As she toiled she -muttered and wagged her gray head, with sage misgivings. - -“For my soul! There is the ver’ bad hoorican’ will come, and the child -so heedless. But the signs, the omens! This same day I did fall asleep -at the knitting and waked a-smother. True, ’twas Meroude, the cat, -crouched on my breast; yet what sent her, save for a warning?” - -Though even in her scolding, the woman smiled, recalling how Margot -had jeered at her superstition; and that when she had dropped her bit -of looking-glass the girl had merrily congratulated her on the fact; -since by so doing, she had secured “two mirrors in which to behold such -loveliness!” - -“No, no; not so. Death lurks in a broken glass; or, at the best, must -follow seven full years of bad luck and sorrow.” - -On which had come the instant reproof: - -“Silly Angelique! When there is no such thing as luck, but all is of -the will of God.” - -The old nurse had frowned. The maid was too wise for her years. She -talked too much with the master. It was not good for women-kind to -listen to grave speech or plague their heads with graver books. Books, -indeed, were for priests and doctors; and, maybe, now and then, for men -who could not live without them, like Master Hugh. She, Angelique, had -never read a book in all her life. She never meant to do so. She had -not even learned a single letter printed in their foolish pages--not -she. Yet was not she a most excellent cook and seamstress? Was there -any cabin in all that northland as tidy as that she ruled? Would -matters have been the better had she bothered her poor brain with -books? She knew her duty and she did it. What more could mortal? - -This argument had been early in the day--a day on which the master -had gone away to the mainland and the house mistress had improved by -giving the house an extra cleaning. To escape the soapsuds and the -loneliness, Margot had also gone, alone and unquestioned; taking with -her a luncheon of brown bread and cold fowl, her book and microscope. -Angelique had watched the little canoe push off from the shore, without -regret, since now she could work unhindered at clearing the room of the -“rubbishy specimens” which the others had brought in to mess the place. - -Now, at supper time, perfect order reigned, and perfect quiet, as well; -save for the purring of Meroude upon the hearth and the simmering of -the kettle. Angelique wiped her face with her apron. - -“The great heat, and May but young yet. It means trouble. I wish--” - -Suddenly the cat waked from her sleep, and, with a sharp “meouw,” -leaped to her mistress’s shoulder; who screamed, dropped the ladle, -splashed the stew, and boxed the animal’s ears--all within a few -seconds. Her nerves were already tingling from the electricity in the -air, and her anxiety returned with such force that, again swinging the -crane around away from the fire, she hurried to the beach. - -To one so weather-wise, the unusual heat, the leaden sky, and the -intense hush were ominous. There was not a breath of wind stirring, -apparently, yet the surface of the lake was already dotted by tiny -white-caps, racing and chasing shoreward, like live creatures at -play. Not many times, even in her long life in that solitude, had -Angelique Ricord seen just that curious coloring of cloud and water, -and she recalled these with a shudder. The child she loved was strong -and skillful, but what would that avail? Her thin face darkened, its -features sharpened, and, making a trumpet of her hands, she put all her -force into a long, terrified halloo. - -“Ah-ho-a-ah! Margot--Mar-g-o-t--Margot!” - -Something clutched her shoulder, and with another frightened scream, -the woman turned, to confront her master. - -“Is the child away?” - -“Yes, yes; I know not where.” - -“Since when?” - -“It seems but an hour, maybe two--three--and she was here, laughing, -singing, all as ever. Though it was before the mid-day, and she went in -her canoe, still singing.” - -“Which way?” - -She pointed due east, but now into a gloom that was impenetrable. On -the instant the lapping wavelets became breakers, the wind rose to a -deafening shriek, throwing Angelique to the ground, and causing even -the strong man to reel before it. As soon as he could right himself, -he lifted her in his arms and staggered up the slope. Rather, he was -almost blown up it and through the open door into the cabin, about -which the furnishings were flying wildly. Here the woman recovered -herself and lent her aid in closing the door against the tempest, a -task that, for a time, seemed impossible. Her next thought was for her -dinner-pot, now swaying in the fireplace, up which the draught was -roaring furiously. Once the precious stew was in a sheltered corner, -her courage failed again, and she sank down beside it, moaning and -wringing her hands. - -“It is the end of the world!” - -“Angelique!” - -Her wails ceased. That was a tone of voice she had never disobeyed in -all her fifteen years of service. - -“Yes, Master Hugh?” - -“Spread some blankets. Brew some herb tea. Get out a change of dry -clothing. Make everything ready against I bring Margot in.” - -She watched him hurrying about, securing all the windows, piling wood -on the coals, straightening the disordered furniture, fastening a -bundle of kindlings to his own shoulders, putting matches in the pocket -of his closely-buttoned coat, and she caught something of his spirit. -After all, it was a relief to be doing something, even though the roar -of the tempest and the incessant flashes of lightning turned her sick -with fear. But it was all too short a task; and when, at last, her -master climbed outward through a sheltered rear window, closing it -behind him, her temporary courage sank again. - -“The broken glass! the broken glass! Yet who would dream it is my -darling’s bright young life must pay for that and not mine, the old and -careworn? Ouch! the blast! That bolt struck--and near! Ah, me! Ah, me!” - -Meroude rubbed pleadingly against her arm, and, glad of any living -companionship, she put out her hand to touch him; but drew it back in -dread, for his sur-charged fur sparkled and set her flesh a-tingle, -while the whole room grew luminous with an uncanny radiance. Feeling -that her own last hour had come, poor Angelique crouched still lower in -her corner and began to say her prayers with so much earnestness that -she became almost oblivious to the tornado without. - -Meanwhile, by stooping and clinging to whatever support offered, Hugh -Dutton made his slow way beachward. But the bushes uprooted in his -clasp and the bowlders slipped by him on this new torrent rushing to -the lake. Then he flung himself face downward and cautiously crawled -toward the Point of Rocks whereon he meant to make his beacon fire. - -“She will see it and steer by it,” he reflected; for he would not -acknowledge how hopeless would be any human steering under such a -stress. - -Alas! the beacon would not light. The wind had turned icy cold and -the rain changed to hail which hurled itself upon the tiny blaze and -stifled its first breath. A sort of desperate patience fell on the man, -and he began again, with utmost care, to build and shelter his little -stock of firewood. Match after match he struck, and with unvarying -failure, till all were gone; and realizing at last how chilled and -rigid he was growing, he struggled to his feet and set them into motion. - -Then there came a momentary lull in the storm and he shouted aloud, as -Angelique had done: - -“Margot! Little Margot! Margot!” - -Another gust swept over the lake and island. He could hear the great -trees falling in the forest, the bang, bang, bang, of the deafening -thunder, as, blinded by lightning and overcome by exhaustion, he sank -down behind the pile of rocks and knew no more. - - - CHAPTER II - - SPIRIT OR MORTAL? - -The end of that great storm was almost as sudden as its beginning. - -Aroused by the silence that succeeded the uproar, Angelique stood up -and rubbed her limbs, stiff with long kneeling. The fire had gone out. -Meroude was asleep on the blankets spread for Margot, who had not -returned, nor the master. As for that matter, the house mistress had -not expected that they ever would. - -“There is nothin’ left. I am alone. It was the glass. Ah! that the -palsy had seized my unlucky hand before I took it from its shelf! How -still it is. How clear, too, is my darling’s laugh--it rings through -the room--it is a ghost. It will haunt me always, always.” - -Unable longer to bear the indoor silence, which her fancy filled with -familiar sounds, she unbarred the heavy door and stepped out. - -“Ah! is it possible--can the sun be setting that way--as if there had -been nothin’ happen?” - -Wrecks strewed the open ground about the cabin, poultry coops were -washed away, the cow-shed was a heap of ruins, into which the trembling -observer dared not peer. That Snowfoot should be dead was a calamity -but second only to the loss of master and nursling. - -“Ah! my beast, my beauty. The best in all this northern Maine. That the -master bought and brought in the big canoe for an Easter gift to his so -faithful Angelique. And yet the sun sets as red and calm as if all were -the same as ever.” - -It was, indeed, a scene of grandeur. The storm, in passing northward, -had left scattered banks of clouds, now colored most brilliantly by -the setting sun and widely reflected on the once more placid lake. But -neither the beauty nor the sweet, rain-washed air, appealed to the -distracted islander, who faced the west and shook her hand in impotent -rage toward it. - -“Shine, will you? With the harm all done and nothin’ left but me, old -Angelique. Pouf! I turn my back on you!” - -Then she ran shoreward with all speed, dreading what she might find, -yet eager to know the worst, if there it might be learned. With her -apron over her head, she saw only what lay straight before her, and so -passed the Point of Rocks without observing her master lying behind it. -But a few steps further she paused, arrested by a sight which turned -her numb with superstitious terror. What was that coming over the -water? A ghost! a spirit! - -Did spirits paddle canoes and sing as this one was singing? - - “The boatman’s song is borne along far over the water so blue, - And, loud and clear, the voice we hear of the boatman so honest and true; - He’s rowing, rowing, rowing along, - He’s rowing, rowing, rowing along-- - He’s rowing and singing his song.” - -The subsiding wind wafted to her ears snatches of the jolly little -ballad, in which one could catch the very rhythm and dip of oar or -paddle. Still it was as well to wait and see if this were flesh or -apparition before pronouncing judgment. - -It was certainly a canoe, snowy white and most familiar--so familiar -that the watcher began to lose her first terror. A girl knelt in it, -Indian-fashion, gracefully and evenly dipping her paddle to the melody -of her lips. Her bare head was thrown back and her fair hair floated -loose. Her face was lighted by the western glow, on which she fixed -her eyes with such intentness that she did not perceive the woman who -awaited her with such mixed emotions. - -[Illustration: A GIRL KNELT IN THE CANOE, INDIAN-FASHION] - -But Tom saw. Tom, the eagle, perched in the bow, keen of vision and of -prejudice. Between him and old Angelique was a grudge of long standing. -Whenever they met, even after a brief separation, he expressed his -feelings by his hoarsest screech. He did so now, and, by so doing, -recalled Margot from sky-gazing and his enemy from doubt. - -“Ah, Angelique! Watching for me? How kind of you. Hush, Tom; let her -alone; good Angelique, poor Angelique.” - -The eagle flapped his wings with a melancholy disdain and plunged his -beak in his breast. The old woman on the beach was not worth minding, -after all, by a monarch of the sky--as he would be but for his broken -wing--but the girl was worth everything, even his obedience. - -She laughed at his sulkiness, plying her paddle the faster, and soon -reached the pebbly beach, where she sprang out, and, drawing her canoe -out of the water, swept her old nurse a courtesy. - -“Home again, mother, and hungry for my supper.” - -“Supper, indeed! Breakin’ my heart with your run-about ways! and the -hoorican, with ever’thin’ ruined; ever’thin’! The master--where’s -he, I know not. The great pine broken like a match; the coops, the -cow-house, and Snowfoot--Ah, me! yet the little one talks of supper!” - -Margot looked about her in astonishment, scarcely noticing the other’s -words. The devastation of her beloved home was evident, even down on -the open beach, and she dared not think what it might be further inland. - -“Why, it must have been a cyclone! We were reading about them only -yesterday. And Uncle Hugh--did you say that you knew--where is he?” - -Angelique shook her head. - -“Can I tell anythin’, me? Into the storm he went and out of it he will -come alive, as you have--if the good Lord wills,” she added, reverently. - -The girl sprang to the woman’s side, and caught her arm impatiently. - -“Tell me, quick! Where is he? where did you last see him?” - -“Goin’ into the hoorican, with wood upon his shoulder. To make a beacon -for you. So I guess. But you--tell how you come out alive of all -that?”--sweeping her arm over the outlook. - -Margot did not stop to answer, but darted toward the Point of Rocks, -where, if anywhere, she knew her guardian would have tried his signal -fire. In a moment she found him. - -“Angelique! Angelique! he’s here! Quick, quick!--He’s--oh! is he dead? -is he dead?” - -There was both French and Indian blood in Mother Ricord’s veins, a -passionate loyalty in her heart, and the suppleness of youth still in -her spare frame. With a dash she was at the girl’s side and had thrust -her away, to kneel herself and lift her master’s head from its hard -pillow of rock. - -With swift, nervous motions she unfastened his coat and bent her ear to -his breast. - -“’Tis only a faint--maybe shock. In all the world was only Margot, -and Margot he believed was lost. Ugh! the hail. See, it is still -here--look! water, and--yes, the tea! It was for you--ah!” - -Her words ended with a sigh of satisfaction as a slight motion stirred -the features into which she peered so earnestly, and she raised her -master’s head a bit higher. Then his eyes slowly opened and the dazed -look gradually gave place to a normal expression. - -“Why, Margot! Angelique! What’s happened?” - -“Oh! Uncle Hugh! are you hurt? are you ill? I found you here behind the -rocks, and Angelique says--but I wasn’t hurt at all. I wasn’t out in -any storm--I didn’t know there had been one, that is, worth minding, -till I came home--” - -“Like a ghost out of the lake. She was not even dead--not she. And she -was singin’ fit to burst her throat while you were--well, maybe, not -dead, yourself, but, near it.” - -At this juncture, Tom, the inquisitive, thrust his white head forward -into the midst of the group, and, in her relief from her first fear, -Margot laughed aloud. - -“Don’t, Tom! You’re one of the family, of course, and since none of the -rest of us will die, to please that broken mirror, you may have to! -Especially, if there’s a new brood out--” - -But here Angelique threw up her free hand with such a gesture of -despair that Margot said no more, and her face sobered again, -remembering that, even though they were all still alive, there might -be suffering untold among her humbler woodland friends. Then, as Mr. -Dutton rose, almost unaided, a fresh regret came: - -“That there should be a cyclone right here at home, and I not to see -it! See! look! Uncle, look! you can trace its very path, just as we -read. Away to the south there is no sign of it, nor on the northeast. -It must have swept up to us out of the southeast and taken our island -in its track. Oh! I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” - -The man rested his hand upon her shoulder and turned her gently -homeward. His weakness had left him as it had come upon him, with -a suddenness like that of the recent tempest. It was not the first -seizure of the kind which he had had, though neither of these others -knew it, and the fact added a deeper gravity to his always thoughtful -manner. - -“I am most thankful that you were not here; but where could you have -been to escape it?” - -“All day in the long cave. To the very end of it, I believe, and see! -I found these. They are like the specimens you brought the other day. -They must be some rich metal.” - -“In the long cave, you? Alone? all day? Margot, Margot, is not the -glass enough? but you must tempt worse luck by goin’ there!” cried -Angelique, who had preceded the others on the path, but now faced -about, trembling indignantly. What foolish creature was this who -would pass a whole day in that haunted spot, in spite of the dreadful -tales that had been told of it? “Pouf! but I wear out my old brain -everlastin’, studying the charms that will save you from evil. And -yet--” - -“You would do well to use some of your charms on Tom, yonder. He’s -found an over-turned coop and looks too happy to be out of mischief.” - -The woman wheeled again and was off up the slope like a flash, where -presently the king of birds was treated to the indignity of a sound -boxing, which he resented with squawks and screeches, but not with -talons, since under each foot he held the plump body of a fat chicken. - -“Tom thinks a bird in the hand is worth a score of cuffs! and -Angelique’s so determined to have somebody die--I hope it won’t be he. -A pity, though, that harm should have happened to her own pets. Hark! -what is that?” - -“Some poor woodland creature in distress. The storm--” - -“That’s no sound belonging to the forest. But it is--distress!” - - - CHAPTER III - - AN ESTRAY FROM CIVILIZATION - -They paused by the cabin door, left open by Angelique, and listened -intently. She, too, had caught the alien sound, the faint, appealing -halloo of a human voice--the rarest of all cries in that wilderness. -Even the eagle’s screeches could not drown it, but she had had enough -of anxieties for one day. Let other people look out for themselves; -her precious ones should not stir afield again--no, not for anything. -Let the evil bird devour the dead chickens, if he must, her place was -in the cabin, and she rushed back down the slope, fairly forcing the -others inward from the threshold where they hesitated. - -“’Tis a loon. You should know that, I think, and that they’re always -cryin’ fit to scare the dead. Come! The supper’s waitin’ this long -time.” - -With a smile that disarmed offense, Margot caught the woman’s shoulder -and lightly swung her aside out of the way. - -“Eat, then, hungry one! I, too, am hungry, but--hark!” - -The cry came again, prolonged, entreating, not to be confounded with -that of any forest wildling. - -“It’s from the north end of our own island!” - -The master’s ear was not less keen than the girl’s, and both had the -acuteness of an Indian’s, but his judgment was better. - -“From the mainland, across the narrows.” - -Neither delayed, and a mutual impulse sent them toward the shore, but -again Angelique interposed. - -“Thoughtless child, have you no sense? With the master just out of a -faint that was nigh death itself! With nothin’ in his poor stomach -since the mornin’, and your own as empty. Wait; eat; then chase loons, -if you will.” - -Mr. Dutton laughed, though he also frowned, and cast a swift, anxious -glance toward Margot. But she was intent upon nothing save answering -that far-off cry. - -“Which canoe, uncle?” - -“Mine.” - -The devoted servant made a last protest, and caught the girl’s arm as -it pushed the light craft downward into the water. - -“Ma petite, he is not fit. Believe me. Better leave others to their -fate than that he should overtax himself again, so soon.” - -Margot was astonished. In all her life she had never before associated -thought of physical weakness with her stalwart guardian, and a sharp -fear of some unknown trouble shot through her heart. - -“What do you mean?” - -The master had reached them, and now laid his own hand upon Angelique’s -detaining one. - -“There, woman, that’s enough. The storm has shaken your nerves. If -you’re afraid to stay alone, Margot shall stop with you. But let’s have -no more nonsense.” - -Mother Ricord stepped back--away. She had done her best. Let come what -might, her conscience was clear. - -A few seconds later the canoe pushed off over the now darkening water, -and its inmates made all speed toward that point from which the cry had -been heard, but was heard no more. However, the steersman followed a -perfectly direct course, and if he were still weak from his seizure, -his movements showed no signs of it, so that Margot’s fear for him was -lost in the interest of their present adventure. She rhymed her own -stroke to her uncle’s, and when he rested, her paddle instantly stopped. - -“Halloo! hal-l-oo!” he shouted, but as no answer came, said: “Now--both -together.” - -The girl’s shriller treble may have had further carrying power than the -man’s voice, for there was promptly returned to them an echoing halloo, -coming apparently from a great distance. But it was repeated at close -intervals, and each time with more distinctness. - -“We’ll beach the boat just yonder, under that tamarack. Whoever it is -has heard and is coming back.” - -Margot’s impatience broke bounds, and she darted forward among the -trees, shouting: “This way! this way! here we are--here!” Her peculiar -life and training had made her absolutely fearless, and she would have -been surprised by her guardian’s command to “Wait!” had she heard it, -which she did not. Also, she knew the forest as other girls know their -city streets, and the dimness was no hindrance to her nimble feet. In -a brief time she caught the crashing of boughs, as some person, less -familiar than she, blundered through the underbrush and finally came -into view where a break in the timber gave a faint light. - -“Here! here! this way!” - -He staggered and held out his hands, as if for aid, and Margot clasped -them firmly. They were cold and tremulous. They were, also, slender -and smooth, not at all like the hands of any men whom she was used to -seeing. At the relief of her touch, his strength left him, but she -caught his murmured “Thank God! I--had--given up--” - -His voice, too, was different from any she knew, save her uncle’s. This -was somebody, then, from that outside world of which she dreamed so -much and knew so little. It was like a fairy tale come true. - -“Are you ill? There; lean on me. Don’t fear. Oh! I’m strong, very -strong, and uncle is just yonder, coming this way. Uncle--uncle!” - -The stranger was almost past speech. Mr. Dutton recognized that at -once and added his support to Margot’s. Between them they half led, -half carried the wanderer to the canoe and lifted him into it, where -he sank exhausted. Then they dipped their paddles and the boat shot -homeward, racing with death. Angelique was still on the beach and -still complaining of their foolhardiness, but one word from her master -silenced that. - -“Lend a hand, woman! Here’s something real to worry about. Margot, go -ahead and get the lights.” - -As the girl sprang from it, the housekeeper pulled the boat to a spot -above the water, and, stooping, lifted a generous share of the burden -it contained. - -It had not been a loon, then. No. Well, she had known that from the -beginning, just as she had known that her beloved master was in no -condition to go man-hunting. This one he had found was, probably, dead, -any way. Of course. Somebody had to die--beyond chickens and such--had -not the broken glass so said? - -Even in the twilight, Mr. Dutton could detect the grim satisfaction -on her face, and smiled, foreseeing her change of expression when this -seemingly lifeless guest should revive. - -They laid him on the lounge that had been spread with blankets for -Margot, and she was already beside it, waiting to administer the herb -tea which had, also, been prepared for herself, and which she had -marveled to find so opportunely prepared. - -Mr. Dutton smiled again. In her simplicity the girl did not dream that -the now bitter decoction was not a common restorative outside their -primitive life, and in all good faith forced a spoonful of it between -the closed lips. - -“After all, it doesn’t matter. The poor fellow is, doubtless, used to -richer cordials, but it’s hot and strong and will do the work. You, -Angelique, make us a pot of your best coffee, and swing round that -dinner-pot. The man is almost starved, and I’m on the road to follow -him. How about you, Margot?” - -“I? Oh!--I guess I’m hungry--I will be--see! He’s swallowing it--fast. -Give me that bigger spoon, Angel--quick!” - -“What would you? Scald the creature’s throat? So he isn’t dead, after -all. Well, he needn’t have made a body think so, he needn’t. There, -Margot! you’ve messed him with the black stuff!” - -Indignantly brushing the child aside, the woman seized the cup and -deftly administered its entire contents. The stranger had not yet -opened his eyes, but accepted the warm liquid mechanically, and his -nurse hurried to fill a bowl with the broth of the stew in the kettle. -This, in turn, was taken from her by Margot, who jealously exclaimed: - -“He’s mine. I heard him first. I found him first; let me be the first -he sees. Dish up the supper, please, and set my uncle’s place.” - -So, when a moment later, having been nearly choked by the more -substantial food forced into his mouth, the guest opened his eyes, they -beheld the eager face of a brown-skinned, fair-haired girl very close -to his and heard her joyous cry: - -“He sees me! he sees everything! he’s getting well already!” - -He had never seen anybody like her. Her hair was as abundant as a -mantle and rippled over her shoulders like spun gold. So it looked in -the lamplight. In fact, it had never been bound nor covered, and what -in a different social condition might have been much darker, had in -this outdoor life become bleached almost white. The weather which had -whitened the hair had tanned the skin to bronze, making the blue eyes -more vivid by contrast and the red lips redder. These were smiling now, -over well-kept teeth, and there was about the whole bearing of the maid -something suggestive of the woodland in which she had been reared. - -Purity, honesty, freedom--all spoke in every motion and tone, and, to -this observer, at least, seemed better than any beauty. Presently, he -was able to push her too-willing hand gently away and to say: - -“Not quite so fast, please.” - -“Oh, uncle! hear him? He talks just as you do! Not a bit like Pierre, -or Joe, or the rest.” - -Mr. Dutton came forward, smiling and remonstrating. - -“My dear, our new friend will think you quite rude, if you discuss him -before his face so frankly. But, sir, I assure you she means nothing -but delight at your recovery. We are all most thankful that you are -here and safe. There, Margot; let the gentleman rest a few minutes. -Then a cup of coffee may be better than the stew. Were you long without -food, friend?” - -The stranger tried to answer, but the effort tired him, and with a -beckoning nod to the young nurse, the woodlander led the way back to -the table and their own delayed supper. Both needed it and both ate it -rather hastily, much to the disgust of Angelique, who felt that her -skill was wasted; but one was anxious to be off out-of-doors to learn -the damage left by the storm, and the other to be back on her stool -beside the lounge. When Mr. Dutton rose, the housekeeper left her own -seat. - -“I’ll fetch the lantern, master. But that’s the last of Snowfoot’s -good milk you’ll ever drink,” she sighed, touching the pitcher, sadly. - -“What! is anything wrong with her?” - -“The cow-house is in ruins; so are the poultry coops. What with falling -ill yourself just at the worst time and fetchin’ home other sick folks, -we might all go to wrack and nobody the better.” - -The familiar grumbling provoked only a smile from the master, who would -readily have staked his life on the woman’s devotion to “her people,” -and knew that the apparent crossness was not that in reality. - -“Fie, good Angelique! You are never so happy as when you’re miserable. -Come on; nothing must suffer if we can prevent. Take care of our guest -Margot; but give him his nourishment slowly at intervals. I’ll get some -tools, and join you at the shed, Angelique.” - -He went out and the housekeeper followed with the lantern, not needed -in the moonlight, but possibly of use at the fallen cow-house. - -They were long gone. The stranger dozed, waked, ate, and dozed again. -Margot, accustomed to early hours, also slept soundly, till a fearful -shriek roused her. Her patient was wildly kicking and striking at -some hideous monster which had settled on his chest and would not be -displaced. - -“He’s killing me! Help--help! Oh--a--ah!” - - -[TO BE CONTINUED] - - - - - MARCH - - - With rushing winds and gloomy skies - The dark and stubborn Winter dies; - Far-off, unseen, Spring faintly cries, - Bidding her earliest child arise: - March! - - By streams still held in icy snare, - On southern hillsides, melting bare, - O’er fields that motley colors wear, - That summons fills the changeful air: - March! - - What though conflicting seasons make - Thy days their field, they woo or shake - The sleeping lids of Life awake, - And hope is stronger for thy sake, - March! - - _Bayard Taylor_ - - - - - WOOD-FOLK TALK - - By J. ALLISON ATWOOD - - - THE CROW - -What does the crow say? The syllable “caw” repeated several times? I -thought you would say that. A tradition is hard to break; but just -listen for yourself sometime, and you will be convinced that the crow -has been sadly misunderstood. It is “Hawk, Hawk, Hawk,” just as plainly -as one could wish. - -Of course, you wonder why one bird should spend all his time calling -out the name of another. Well, that’s just what I want to tell you -about. - -It was a long time ago--before any white people had invaded Birdland. -The year had been unusually mild and all the birds had returned from -the south where they spent the winter. So great was the rejoicing -because of the early season that the king had sent invitations far and -wide to a spring reception. - -Then what an excitement! For weeks nothing was discussed but the -reception and new spring plumages. - -When the day arrived, birds from tree-top and meadow came by the -score--waders, climbers, perchers--in fact, all kinds under the -sun. The table, which, by the way, very closely resembled the -ground, was festooned and hung with arbutus. Before each guest was a -relish--a dainty little worm, served upon an equally exquisite plate -of shellbark. But why torment ourselves with the “bill o’ fare”? -Sufficient to say that it was worthy of the occasion. - -At the head of the table sat the king himself, a sturdy little fellow, -nicely dressed in black and white, and wearing a concealed crown of -gold on his head. One of the remarkable things about the king was that -he did not flaunt his royalty before his subjects. Whenever he wore his -crown he always concealed it under a cap of feathers, and trusted that -his actions would speak his worth. - -Next to him sat Bob-o-link, a cheerful little dandy, but noted, -nevertheless, for a good deal of courage and common sense. He was the -king’s right-wing bird. - -On the other side was Brown Thrasher, dressed in a long-tailed coat of -brown and a beautiful spotted vest. Thrasher was liked for his wit and -sauciness, but on the whole he was a good deal of an adventurer. He had -several times claimed kinship to the Thrushes, but they would have none -of him. - -Among other celebrities were Mocking Bird, a great jester and -all-around wit; Quail, the famous toastmaster, and, in fact, all -civilized birds except Night Hawk and Whip-poor-will, who were -ridiculously shy of all public gatherings, and Crow, who had not been -invited. - -Of course, it was a great pity that Crow did not receive an invitation, -but, somehow, the king had taken a strong dislike to him. The reason -for this, he told his subjects, was because Crow could not sing, but -it was really because he was black. The king had even hesitated about -inviting Blackbird in spite of his gorgeous rainbow lustre. - -Well, to say the least, poor Crow’s feelings were greatly hurt. He was -very sad as he sat high up in a nearby tree and looked down upon the -gay tumult. Crow was a sociable fellow, and, moreover, he was very -hungry. Suddenly a thought came into his cunning black head. - -Just as the party was at its merriest, he stood erect and called out in -his loudest tone, “Hawk, Hawk, Hawk!” Instantly there was a confusion. -Thrasher, quickly gathering his coat over his new vest, scurried into -the nearest thicket. Quail, greedily bolting the last of his dessert, -so far forgot his manners as to run straight across the table and hide -himself in the tall grass; while Bob-o-link, checked in the midst of -a brilliant speech, vanished among the nearby reeds. Last of all, the -king, yielding to the universal panic, took wing. In a moment there was -not a bird in sight. - -Then Crow, laughing to himself, flew down to the table and made short -work of the feast to which he had not been invited. Just as he was -finishing the last mouthful, King Bird, ashamed of his hasty flight, -returned, ready to confront his deadly enemy. Instead of the expected -Hawk, however, he found only Crow, just then hopping up from the table -and carefully rubbing his bill against the side of a branch. - -Oh, what a rage he was in when he saw the trick that had been played -upon them. With a snap of his bill, he flew at Crow like an arrow, and -would undoubtedly have injured him had not the rascal taken instant -flight. - -From that day to this, Crow has been an outcast. If you watch him -carefully you will notice how warily he flies, for the smaller birds -have never ceased to torment and abuse him. - -King Bird in particular has never forgiven the outrage, and whenever -he hears Crow’s mocking voice calling “Hawk, Hawk, Hawk,” chases madly -after him, crying out, angrily, “Cheat-thief, cheat-thief.” - -Sometimes Crow, as he thinks of the feast, laughs exultantly as if to -say, “I got the best of you all that time.” - -Whereupon Quail, first glancing proudly at his own sleek form with the -air of one who has not lived in vain, mounts the top of a nearby stump, -and in his clear, shrill voice answers, “Not quite! not--quite!” - -[Illustration] - - - - - LITTLE POLLY PRENTISS - - BY ELIZABETH LINCOLN GOULD - - - CHAPTER I - - AN INTERRUPTED STORY - -Although it was only five o’clock, and Manser Farm stood on a hill -so that its windows caught the last gleam of the sun on a pleasant -afternoon, the garret was growing dark. - -“Is it five or six days it’s been raining without any stop?” inquired -Mrs. Ramsdell, as she dropped the lid of her horse-hair trunk and -turned the key in the lock. - -“It’s only three days come six o’clock to-night,” said Aunty Peebles in -her cheery treble. “Don’t you recall we were just going down to supper -Monday when we heard the first drops on the tin roof? And this is only -Thursday.” - -“Well, it seems like two weeks, that’s all I’ve got to say about -it,” grumbled Mrs. Ramsdell, as she rose stiffly and whisked her -black alpaca skirt back and forth till every speck of dust had flown -away from it. Most of the specks settled on Grandma Manser who sat -tranquilly knitting in her corner by the south window. - -“Do you know where Polly is?” suddenly demanded Mrs. Ramsdell, bending -over the knitter and shouting fiercely in her ear. “Why isn’t she up -here this dull afternoon? The only bright thing there is in this house! -What’s your daughter-in-law keeping her downstairs for?” - -“Polly?” repeated Grandma Manser, gently. She had evidently heard only -part of the gusty speech. “Polly told me she was planning to be out in -the woodshed, to help Uncle Sam Blodgett saw and split, this afternoon. -She said she’d be up to recite a piece to us before supper.” - -“H’m! I should think it was high time she came, then,” said Mrs. -Ramsdell, crossly. But after a minute her wrinkled face grew still more -wrinkled with the smile that broke over it as she heard a clattering -sound on the garret stairs. A second later a rosy face about which -danced a mop of short brown curls peeped around the old bureau which -hid the stairway from the group gathered near the windows. - -“You’re a naughty little piece, that’s what you are, to stay down -in the woodshed with Sam’l Blodgett, instead of coming up here -to entertain us,” cried Mrs. Ramsdell, with twinkling eyes that -contradicted the severity of her tone. “What have you been doing down -there, I’d like to know?” - -“I’ve been listening to war stories,” said Polly Prentiss, coming out -from behind the bureau. “I’ve been hearing about Uncle Blodgett’s -nephew who died down South and ‘though but nineteen years of age -displayed great bravery on the field of battle.’ That’s on his -tombstone,” said Polly, seating herself on a little stool close to -Grandma Manser and reaching out her hand to pat Ebenezer, the big -Maltese cat. - -“Pretty doings!” grumbled Mrs. Ramsdell, but she smiled at Polly as she -went over to the rocking chair by Aunty Peebles. “We old folks have -been taking things out of our trunks and putting ’em back again just to -keep up heart till you came, except grandma there; she’s kept to her -knitting, so’s not to disturb Ebenezer of his nap, I suppose.” - -“Ebenezer’s a splendid cat, if he does like to sleep most of the time, -and looks like Mrs. Manser’s old sack that the moths got into,” said -Polly, with a laugh. “Oh, did any of you know there was a visitor -downstairs?--that Miss Pomeroy with the sharp eyes. Seemed as if -she’d look right through me last Sunday, after church. I guess she’s -pleasant, though.” - -“Folks can afford to be pleasant when they own property and have good -clothes to their backs.” said Mrs. Ramsdell. “I don’t know as Hetty -Pomeroy’s disposition would be any better than some other folks’ if -’twas tried in the furnace. Her father had a high temper, I’ve heard.” - -“She’s had her trials, Miss Hetty has,” said Aunty Peebles, gently. -“She’s all alone in the world now, excepting for Arctura Green that’s -always worked in the family. You know she was to have had her brother’s -little girl to adopt, and the child died of diphtheria last fall. I -understand it was a great grief to Miss Hetty.” - -“What’s she here for in all this rain?” questioned Mrs. Ramsdell, -sharply. - -“Why, it’s almost stopped raining,” said Polly stroking Ebenezer, who -stretched out one paw and curved it round her finger without opening -his eyes. “She drove up to the shed to ask Uncle Blodgett to put her -horse in the barn. Then I showed her the way to the sitting-room and, -she said she had an errand with Mrs. Manser, and I’d better run away -soon as I’d called her. I should have, anyway,” said Polly, nodding at -each of her old friends in turn, “for I was anxious to hurry up here, -and tell you about the things Uncle Blodgett’s been telling me.” - -Polly’s quick eyes had seen a half-frightened glance exchanged between -Mrs. Ramsdell and Aunty Peebles when she spoke of Miss Hetty’s errand, -but as neither of the old ladies seemed disposed to speak when she -paused, Polly went on, thinking “it’s just one of their mysteries, I -suppose.” - -“First, he recited me a poem,” said Polly; “at least, he really recited -it to himself, ‘just to keep his hand in.’ I’m not very good about -remembering poems, but this was by Dr. Goldsmith, Uncle Blodgett said, -and it was all about a Madam Blaize. I asked him the name twice, to be -sure.” - -“Never heard of either of ’em,” said Mrs. Ramsdell. “Must both be -fictitious persons. I wonder Samu’l Blodgett never recites poems to us -of an evening. I must say.” - -“’Twas only because I happened to be there, picking up the chips,” -exclaimed Polly; “and I don’t know whether Dr. Goldsmith and Madam -Blaize were fick--the kind of persons you said--but she was a grand -lady in the poem. It’s funny, too,” said Polly, showing her dimples; -“in one place it says ‘The king himself has followed her when she has -walked before.’ Of course, he’d have to; isn’t that funny?” - -“What else did he recite?” demanded Mrs. Ramsdell. - -“He didn’t recite anything else,” said Polly, releasing her fingers -from Ebenezer’s clasp, and springing to her feet, “but he told me a -very exciting adventure he had once, and I can act it all out for you. -You see, he was going home through some thick woods to his log-hut. -We’ll play the bureau is the hut, and just on the edge of the woods. If -you and Aunty Peebles will move your rocking chairs a little farther -apart you’ll make a splendid edge of the woods,” said Polly to Mrs. -Ramsdell, in a coaxing tone, “then I can come through between.” - -[Illustration: I CAN ACT IT ALL OUT FOR YOU.] - -“Anything to help out,” said the old lady, quickly hitching her chair -away from Aunty Peebles. - -“Now I think,” said Polly, squinting up her eyes, “that Grandma Manser -is in just about the right place for the panther.” - -“Mercy on us, it’s a wild beast tale,” chuckled Mrs. Ramsdell. - -“Grandma Manser, can you snarl like a panther?” asked Polly, bending -over the quiet knitter, whose soft eyes had been following the little -girl’s movements. “It’s in Uncle Blodgett’s adventure, and I’m going to -act it all out, and speak so slow and clear, you’ll hear everything.” - -“My yarn’s more used to snarling than I am, dear child,” said Grandma -Manser, smiling up at the earnest face, “but I’ll do my best. You let -me know the right minute, someway.” - -“When I point my right arm at you with this stick in my hand, it’s a -gun that never missed,” explained Polly to her assistants, “that’ll be -the time for you to snarl, please.” - -Grandma Manser nodded cheerfully, and Polly, gun in hand, ran to her -position behind Mrs. Ramsdell and Aunty Peebles. - -“As I was walking slowly along,” said Polly, with her lips pouted -out in imitation of Uncle Blodgett, and the gun over her shoulder, -“suddenly off to the left, not more than a dozen rods from the house, -what should I see, but--” - -“Mary!” came a querulous voice from the foot of the garret stairs. -“Mary Prentiss! Are you up there?” - -“Yes’m,” answered Polly, as the gun dropped to the floor, and Grandma -Manser, fearing she had mistaken the signal, gave a very mild sound, -meant for a fierce snarl. “Yes’m, I’m here. Do you want me downstairs?” - -“No, I’ll mount; I’m used to trouble, and they might as well hear the -news at once,” said the fretful voice, drawing nearer. The stairs -creaked under the slow steps; the little company in the garret waited; -disappointment was on Polly’s face, but the old people looked sad and -anxious. - -Mrs. Manser’s tall, thin figure and sallow, discontented face had -a depressing effect on all of them, as she stood in her dark brown -calico, leaning against the old bureau. - -“Mary Prentiss,” she said, solemnly, “your chance has come, thanks to -the way I’ve brought you up and kept you clean. Miss Hester Pomeroy, -of Pomeroy Oaks, is coming next Thursday morning to take you home with -her for a month’s trial, and if you do your best and follow all I tell -you, there’s a likelihood Miss Pomeroy will adopt you for good and -all. And now, we won’t have any talk or fuss over it, for I shall need -everybody’s help to get you fit to go in time. We’re going to have -supper early to-night, so you’d better all follow me down right off, to -be on hand.” - -Then Mrs. Manser turned and creaked slowly down the stairs, while Polly -looked from the bewildered panther to the trembling edges of the wood -with something very like tears in her brown eyes, and Ebenezer, after a -thorough stretching of all his paws, disappeared around the bureau and -hurried down to his evening meal. - - - CHAPTER II - - GETTING READY - -It seemed to Polly that no days before ever flew so fast as the ones -between that rainy Thursday afternoon in April and the next Thursday -morning. To be sure, Polly was not accustomed to having new clothes -especially made for her, and the hours spent in being fitted and -re-fitted were just a waste of precious time, in her eyes. - -Aunty Peebles was the best dressmaker at Manser Farm. Her fingers were -old and sometimes they trembled, but in her day she had been a famous -seamstress, and even now she could hem a ruffle much better than Mrs. -Manser. - -“I don’t know just what the reason is my work looks better than some,” -said Aunty Peebles, flushing with delight, one morning when Polly had -said, “Oh, what bee-yu-tiful even, little bits of stitches you do make!” - -“It’s experience, that’s all it is,” said Mrs. Manser, dejectedly, -as she sat gathering the top of a pink gingham sleeve; “if I’d been -brought up to it instead of all the education I had that’s no good to -me now, I should be thankful, I’m sure.” - -“She’d never be thankful for anything,” whispered Mrs. Ramsdell, who -was ripping out bastings and constantly encountering knots which had -been “machined in” and did not soothe her temper; “’taint in her, and -you know it, Miss Peebles, well as I do.” - -“Mary,” said Mrs. Manser, fretfully, “don’t sit there doing nothing. -Let me see how you’re getting on with that patchwork. My back’s -almost broken, and I’ve got chills. You go and tell Father Manser -to bring in some wood, and then you thread me up some needles, and -fill the pincushion, and I’ve got some basting for you to do. What a -looking square you’ve made of that last one! Well, I don’t -believe Miss Hetty’ll keep you more than just the month, and all this -sewing and these two nice ginghams will go for nothing.” - -“I’ll try to behave so she’ll keep me,” said Polly, with a flushed face -as she hurried out to old Father Manser. She returned with him after a -moment. He was a thin little man, who had a kind word for everybody, -but spoke in a husky tone, which Mrs. Ramsdell claimed Mrs. Manser had -“frightened him into with her education when she first married him.” -However that might be, Father Manser never made a statement in his -wife’s presence without an appealing glance toward her for approval. - -“Fill up the stove,” said Mrs. Manser, in her most dismal tone, “and -see if you can take the chill off this room, father. I presume, though, -it’s in my bones and won’t come out; I notice the others are warm -enough, for, of course, I’d have heard complaints if they weren’t. Then -you might as well oil the machine and get ready to run up the seams of -those aprons, if your mother ever gets them done.” - -“I declare it riles me to see a man doing woman’s work,” said Mrs. -Ramsdell, tugging at a vicious knot, “and doing it all hodge-podge into -the bargain!” - -Father Manser, all unconscious of her unfavorable criticism, filled up -the stove, and then set about oiling the sewing-machine. By the time he -had finished, Grandma Manser had put the last careful basting in the -last apron seam, and his work was ready for him. - -“Now, don’t make your feet go so fast,” cautioned Mrs. Manser, “and -stop off carefully, so you won’t break the needles the way you did -yesterday, and do keep by the bastings, father. Are your specs on? No, -they aren’t. You put them on, this minute!” - -“Yes’m,” said Father Manser, meekly, and when his spectacles were -astride his nose, he was allowed to put his feet on the treadles and -start on his first seam. - -“He likes to run the machine,” said Aunty Peebles to Polly. “Seems as -if he thought he’d got his foot in the stirrups and was riding, bold -and free.” - -There were many such times for Father Manser during this dressmaking -season, and he enjoyed them, though he knew how much he would miss -Polly when she had gone. - -In spite of hours spent in the house instead of out in the sweet -spring weather, in spite of unwonted tasks, and many serious rebukes -from Mrs. Manser, the days flew by instead of dragging slowly along as -little Polly wished they would. “Aunty” Peebles, who had never had a -real niece; “Grandma” Manser, who had no grandchildren; even poor Mrs. -Ramsdell, with her sharp tongue, who had “known all sorts of trials and -seen better days,”--all were friends to Polly, the only friends she -had in the world beside Mrs. Manser, who had brought her up, with much -grumbling, to be sure; kind Father Manser, who sometimes gave her a -stick of candy in the dark; and Uncle Sam Blodgett, with whom she had -such exciting talks, the hero of the adventure, the tale of which was -so suddenly interrupted. - -Polly’s heart was sore at the thought of leaving them all; she even -felt sorry that she must say good-bye to poor Bob Rust, the grown man -with a boy’s mind, who could not be depended on to do the simplest -errand. - -“He’s scatter-witted, I know,” said Polly to herself, “but I shall miss -seeing Bob, because I’m used to him.” - -Thursday morning came all too soon. Miss Pomeroy was to come for Polly -about ten o’clock. At half-past nine Polly, with anxiety written all -over her rosy face, was twirling slowly around in the middle of the -kitchen, while Mrs. Manser regarded her forlornly from her position in -the doorway, with a hand pressed against her forehead. - -“I suppose you’ll have to do as you are,” she said at last, with a -heavy sigh. “My head aches so, I’m fit for nothing, or I’d see what -more I could do with that hair of yours. Is that the very flattest -you can get it, Mary? I hope you’re going to remember to answer Miss -Pomeroy when she says ‘Mary’ better than you do me, child. It’s your -rightful name, and, of course Polly’s no kind of a name for a girl to -be adopted by. Did you say you’d done the very best you could with your -hair?” - -“Yes’m,” said Polly, twisting her hands together, locking and unlocking -her fingers in evident excitement. “I wet it sopping wet, and then -I patted it all down hard; but it doesn’t stay down very well, I’m -afraid.” - -Polly was right; in spots her hair was still damp and sleek on her -little head, but around these satisfactory spots her short curls rose -and danced defiance to brush and water. - -“Oh, Ebenezer, I wish I had fur like yours instead of hair!” cried -Polly, but Ebenezer only blinked at her, and retired hastily -behind the stove as if he feared she might attempt an exchange of -head-covering. - -“Well,” said Mrs. Manser, dropping into a rocking-chair and clasping -her head with both hands, “all I’ve got to say is, you must do the best -you can by Miss Pomeroy and all of us. You know just how much depends -on Miss Pomeroy’s adopting you. You know what it’ll mean to Father -Manser and me and the old folks that I board for almost nothing to -keep them off the town, if you are adopted. And Grandma--you’re always -saying you’re so fond of her--you’d like her to have one of those new -hearing apparatuses, I should suppose.” - -“Oh, yes’m,” said Polly, eagerly, “I do love Grandma Manser so, and I -want her to have the ap-apyoratus. Will it cost a great deal?” - -“I don’t just know,” said Mrs. Manser; “but they say Miss Pomeroy’s -going to give five hundred dollars to whatever institution or place she -finds the child she keeps, and a present of money to the folks that -have brought her up. She didn’t mention it to me, but the butcher told -me yesterday ’twas known all about, and she’s been sent for to several -places to see children. But she never took a fancy to one till she saw -you in church with me. She thinks you’ve got a look about the eyes -that’s like Eleanor, that was her brother’s little girl who died last -fall. I guess you’re about as different from her as a child could be, -every other way.” - -“I suppose Eleanor was an awful good, quiet little girl, wasn’t she?” -asked Polly, timidly. “Her name sounds kind of still. I don’t believe -she ever tore her clothes, did she?” - -“I don’t suppose another such good child ever lived, according to Miss -Hetty’s ideas,” said Mrs. Manser, dismally. “She’d never been here -in town since she was a baby, and the mother’s folks brought her and -Bobby, the twin, one summer to Pomeroy Oaks. As I’ve told you, both -parents died, leastways they were destroyed in an accident, when the -twins were less than a year old.” - -“And Bobby lives with his grandpa and grandma now,” said Polly, with -the air of reciting an oft-repeated lesson, “and folks say that saw -him when he was here last winter that he just sits and reads all the -time; he doesn’t care for play or being out-doors much; and he never -makes a speck of dirt or a mite of noise. And when somebody said what -a good child he was, Miss Hetty Pomeroy, she said, ‘Wait till you see -Eleanor!’ So anybody can tell what she must have been,” concluded poor -little Polly, with a gasping breath. - -“And so, of course,” said Mrs. Manser, fixing a forlorn gaze on the -little figure in stiffly starched pink gingham, “if you run wild -out-doors, picking flowers and chasing round after the live stock and -wasting time with the birds the way you’ve been allowed to do here, -you’ll lose your chance, that’s all. You came of good folks: your -mother was my third cousin and your father was a well-meaning man, -though he wasn’t forehanded, and always enjoyed poor health. I’ve -brought you up the best I could for over seven years, but I expect -nothing but what Miss Hetty’ll send you back when the month’s up.” - -“I’ll try real hard not to lose the chance,” said Polly, earnestly. Her -eyes shone with an odd mixture of determination and fright; there was, -moreover, a decided suggestion of tears, but Mrs. Manser, with her head -in her hands again, failed to notice it. - -“It isn’t to be supposed you can take Eleanor’s place,” she groaned. -“You’re willing to fetch and carry, and you’ve got a fair disposition, -but you do hate to stay still. Your father was like that--one of these -restless folks.” - -Polly’s face was overcast with doubt and trouble, but she stood her -ground. “I’ll be just as like Eleanor as ever I can,” she said, slowly. -“If I could only ask Miss Pomeroy just what Eleanor would have done -every day, I guess I could do the same. But you’ve told me I mustn’t -speak about Eleanor, because Miss Pomeroy doesn’t want anybody to.” -Polly looked wistfully at Mrs. Manser’s bowed head. - -“That makes it harder,” said Polly, when there was no answer to this -half-question, save another groan, “but I guess I can manage someway.” -Her face looked as nearly stern as was possible for such a combination -of soft curves and dimples, but her eyes were misty. - -Through the open door the soft air of the April morning blew in to her, -and her little body thrilled with the love of the spring, and living, -growing out-door friends. But if on her behavior depended the bestowal -of Miss Hetty’s princely sum, Manser Farm should have it. In all the -ten years of Polly’s life she had never before heard of such a large -amount of money, except in arithmetic examples, which, as everybody -knows, deal with all things in a bold way, unhampered by probability. - -With a final groan, Mrs. Manser rose and went to the door. Then she -turned quickly to Polly. - -“Here comes Miss Hetty now, up the road,” she said. “Go and make your -goodbyes to the folks, child, and put on your hat and jacket and then -get your bag, so as not to keep her waiting--she may be in a hurry.” - - -[TO BE CONTINUED] - - * * * * * - - Kind wishes and good deeds--they make not poor - They’ll home again, full laden, to thy door. - - _Richard H. Dana_ - - - - - A RAMBLE IN EARLY SPRING - - By Julia McNair Wright - - -Going out for a walk on some March morning, we find the air soft and -warm, the skies of a summer blue, the water rippling in every little -runnel. We look about, half expecting to see a bluebird perched upon a -fence post, a robin stepping among the stubble. The stems and branches -which appeared dry and dead all the winter have now a fresh exhibition -of life. We can almost see the sap creeping up through their vessels -and distributing vigor where it goes. - -Let us go to the woods, to some sunny southern slope where maples grow. - -Turning over the light, soft earth, we shall find the maple seeds that -ripened last autumn and are now germinating. The seeds of the maple are -in pairs, which are called keys. They look more like little tan-colored -moths than keys; the distinctly-veined, winged husk is very like the -narrow and veined wings of many moths. - -These seeds are winged in order that they may be blown abroad on the -wind and plant new forests farther afield. If they all dropped close -under the shade of the parent tree few would live beyond a year or two. - -Where the wing-like husks come together there is a thickening of the -base of each into an ear-like lobe, holding a seed. The wrapping of -this seed softens, the seed enlarges as the embryo within it grows, the -husk is pushed open, and slowly comes forth the baby tree, composed -of two leaves and a stem. These two leaves, although very small, are -perfect and even green in the unopened seed. - -They are soft and fleshy; in fact, they are pantries, full of food, -ready for the weak little plant to feed upon until it is strong enough -to forage and digest for itself. Everyone knows that babies must be -carefully fed on delicate food until they get their teeth. The baby -plant also needs well-prepared food. - -Between the two leaves is a little white stem. The two leaves unfold, -and in a few days the air and sun have made them bright green. The -stem between them thrusts a little root into the earth; this root is -furnished with hairs. When the root is well-formed and the two seeds -have reached full size, a bud has formed in the axil between them. - -This is the growing point of the new tree. This bud presently opens -into a pair of well-formed maple leaves. - -As these leaves increase the seed-leaves diminish; the plant is feeding -upon them. The ascending stem presses its first pair of leaves upward, -forms between them two more, and then two more, and thus on. - -Small branches are formed by the end of summer, the seed-leaves are -exhausted, and the plant is doing its own work. - -Under the trees in March we find many interesting examples of -seed-growth. The feeding or seed-leaves of the young plant are called -cotyledons. All flowering plants have cotyledons; the plants whose -leaves have dividing or radiate veins, and whose stems are woody, or, -at least, not hollow, have two cotyledons; grasses, reeds, corn, and -other grains, lilies, bamboos, all plants with hollow stems and the -leaf-veins parallel have one cotyledon, while pines and trees of their -class have from three to twelve cotyledons, always set in a circle. - -The seeds, the new plants, or seedlings of any variety are very -numerous. This is needful, as they are subject to many disasters. They -may be eaten by animals or birds, withered by too great dry heat, -devoured by worms, frozen or ruined by overmuch shade. If plantlets -were not very numerous the varieties of plants would presently die out. - -When the March winds shake out the leaf-buds and the seeds in the -ground begin to stir with strong life, we are led to think of the -plant’s host of enemies. - -These enemies of the plant will not all begin their work in March, but -they are enlisting, drilling, and furnishing their regiments for the -season’s strife. - - - - - WITH THE EDITOR - - -In the early days of our country the guest was always honored. Friend -or stranger, the door was thrown open to him, and the circle around the -fireplace parted willingly to receive him. After his comfort had been -assured, however, there came inevitably to the mind of the host the -natural queries--seldom expressed in words--“What is his name? What his -purpose?” Then the wayfarer, his reserve thawing before the friendly -greeting, would just as naturally open his heart and speak of himself. - -Such was the old-time hospitality which Hawthorne so quaintly pictures -in “The Ambitious Guest.” - -To-day, the railroad and the comparative luxury of travel have made the -wayside visitor a being of tradition, but the primitive impulses of -hospitality and curiosity still survive. - -You have opened your doors to us and have welcomed us into that most -sacred of places--the family circle. You do not ask, yet we cannot -but feel, the old question in your kindly gaze. You would know our -name?--our purpose? - -Until better advised, we shall call ourselves Young Folks Magazine. - -Our purpose is to provide good reading for young people. By good -reading, we mean that which is interesting enough to catch and hold -the attention of the reader, and which, in the end, leaves him better -or wiser for having read it. But it must be interesting, or all its -other virtues fail. The young person, particularly the boy, looks with -distrust upon the story which comes too emphatically recommended as -useful. To him, mere utility is closely related to dullness. With this -knowledge fresh in our memory, we promise at the outset that our pages -shall not be lacking in a keen and healthy human interest. - -“But,” we hear our host exclaim, “why another magazine in a time and -country already over-run with literature?” - -Just think a moment. Count upon your fingers all the juvenile -periodicals which you know even by name. Compare this supply with -the demand. We are certainly understating the figures when we say -that there are twenty million young people in the United States. Even -the most widely-circulated of these periodicals does not claim half a -million subscribers. We believe it safe to say that of our whole great -nation of young people, not one in ten is yet supplied with a monthly -or weekly periodical. After all, is there not ample room for us at the -American fireside? - -Finally, may we not ask of you a little lenience toward our early and -inevitable shortcomings? In return, we promise you that our own most -constant aim shall be, with each succeeding visit, better to deserve -your kindly welcome. - - * * * * * - -In spite of its traditional violence we always look forward to the -first month of spring. All the more do we hail it when, as in the -present case, it brings with it the Easter season. The name Easter is -supposed to have been derived from Oestre, the heathen deity of Spring, -in whose honor the ancient Teutons held their annual festival. Since -the Christian era, however, Easter has been in sole commemoration of -the Resurrection. - -During the centuries following its inauguration many quaint customs -have sprung up and passed away. In parts of Ireland there is still a -belief that on Easter morning the sun dances in the sky. - -The use of eggs for decoration and as playthings for children at this -season is of very early origin. Nowhere is this observance now so -common as in the capital of our own country. By immemorial custom, on -the Easter holiday, the grounds of the White House are thrown open -to the sport of children, who come from far and near to roll their -Easter eggs across its sloping lawns. It is a pleasant sight to see -the home of the nation’s chief executive so completely in the hands of -frolicking children. - - - - - EVENT AND COMMENT - - - The National University - -Mr. Andrew Carnegie has offered the sum of ten million dollars to the -government of the United States to endow a national institution for the -promotion of the higher scientific research. - -While the generosity of the donor is universally acknowledged, there -are some who question the practical value of the proposed university. - -“Why,” they ask, “devote this vast sum to the special education of a -select few, while thousands of our children can only with difficulty -obtain the rudiments of a common education?” - -If the endowment in question were intended merely for the present -generation, this question would be difficult to answer. In reality, -however, the very form and nature of the gift show that it is dedicated -not to the individual but to the race; and it is chiefly under the -leadership of the scientific specialist that the race advances. It is -his work rather than the influence of the common schools that has given -to mankind the steam-engine, the telegraph, and the electric light. - -Heretofore, however, the development of men like Watt, Morse, Bell, and -Edison has been wholly dependent upon chance and their own phenomenal -perseverance. Who can say how many more of such men have been lost -to the public service through mere want of opportunity? It is this -opportunity that Mr. Carnegie’s gift would insure to coming generations. - -As our great military school at West Point supplies the nation with -men educated for military leadership, so this institution will create -and perpetuate a corps of savants, forever at the service of the whole -people. - -One cannot but feel that with this gift Mr. Carnegie has exercised an -even wiser forethought than in his many other generous benefactions. - - - Wireless Telegraphy - -Signor Marconi, by means of his system of wireless telegraphy, has at -length succeeded in transmitting the equivalent of the letter “s” from -Europe to America. A glance at the work of the young inventor, however, -will show that his success is not yet insured. - -His system--indeed, we might say all systems--of wireless telegraphy -depends upon the properties of luminiferous ether--that mysterious -medium that is supposed to exist in every known substance. The -discharge of an electric spark produces in this ether a bubble-like -wave which radiates in all directions. It is upon the reception and -recording, at Newfoundland, of this wave, produced at England, that the -success of Marconi’s experiment depends. - -Even to the ordinary mind, such a proposition presents innumerable -difficulties. One of the most apparent would be the confusion arising -from two sets of signals operated in the same locality. But just as -we can throw all the rays of a search-light in one direction, Marconi -reflects these waves of ether toward his receiving station. - -Perhaps one of the real drawbacks of this system would be the expense -of maintaining a current of sufficient voltage to signal long -distances. Nevertheless, we feel confident that, whether it be from -the brain of Marconi or Tesla, or the united efforts of Orling and -Armstrong, wireless telegraphy is insured to the future. - - - The Great Tunnel - -We all remember with what wonder the public viewed the construction of -the great suspension bridge between New York and Brooklyn. Remarkable -as was that feat of engineering, a far more difficult one is now under -way. It is proposed to run a continuous tunnel under the North river, -New York City, and the East river, connecting the Pennsylvania Railroad -in New Jersey with the Long Island Railroad at Brooklyn. It is to be -eight miles long. Its chief purpose is to give trains, especially those -from the West, a direct and unimpeded entrance to New York City. - -Beginning in the neighborhood of West Hoboken, the tunnel will -penetrate the hard ridge of the Palisades, and continue with a downward -incline until, under the North, or Hudson, river, it will reach a depth -of one hundred feet. - -At Thirty-third street, in New York City, it will rise to within -twenty-five feet of the surface, and at this level cross beneath -Manhattan Island, where, at some central point, a large station will be -erected. Proceeding, east, the tunnel will again take a dip to pass the -East river, and come to light on the Brooklyn side in the neighborhood -of the present terminal of the Long Island Railroad. - -The work of construction will begin early in the summer of 1902, and -will require a period of three or four years. Its estimated cost is not -less than $40,000,000. - - - Isthmian Canal - -An important question which has arisen recently is the location of the -future Isthmian canal. Shall it cross at Nicaragua or Panama? - -The House of Representatives, on January 9th, 1902, chose the former, -the best reasons being: - -The saving of two days in the voyage between our Atlantic and Pacific -ports; - -Its healthier climate, and the alleged lesser cost of construction. - -The _Engineering Magazine_, on the other hand, sums up the advantages -of the already-undertaken Panama canal as follows: - -It is three-fourths shorter, and could be maintained at a cost of -$1,350,000 a year less than the Nicaragua canal, is exempt from fifty -miles of dangerous river navigation, and its completion would require -but half the amount necessary to build the Nicaragua canal. - - - The Danish West Indies - -On January 24th, 1902, the government of Denmark, through the pen of -their minister in Washington, ceded to the United States the group -of islands known as the Danish West Indies. Unsuccessful attempts to -purchase these islands were made in the years 1869 and 1877. - -This last effort which, so far, promises success, was begun two years -ago. The delay has been due to a difference of price. The amount now -agreed upon is believed to be $5,000,000. - - - - - IN-DOORS - - - PARLOR MAGIC - - By Ellis Stanyon - -The first thing for the student of magic to do is to learn palming, -the art of holding small objects concealed in the hand by a slight -contraction of the palm. - -Practice first with a half-dollar. Lay it in the right hand as shown -in Fig. 1. Then slightly contract the palm by pressing the ball of the -thumb inward, moving the coin about with the forefinger of the left -hand until you find it is in a favorable position to be gripped by the -fleshy portions of the hand. Continue to practice this until you can -turn the hand over without letting the coin fall. - -[Illustration: Fig. 1.--PALMING COIN] - -When this can be accomplished with ease, lay the coin on the tips -of the second and third fingers, steadying it with the thumb, as in -Fig. 2. Then, moving the thumb aside to the right, bend the fingers, -and pass the coin up along the side of the thumb into the palm, -which should open to receive it, and where, if you have followed the -instructions carefully, you will find no difficulty in retaining it. - -[Illustration: Fig. 2.--PALMING COIN] - -Practice this movement with the right hand in motion toward the left, -as if you really intended to place the coin in that hand. To get the -movement perfect, it is advisable to work in front of a mirror. Take -the coin in the right hand and actually place it in the left several -times; then study to execute the same movement exactly, with the -exception that you retain the coin in the right hand by palming. - -The student who desires to become a finished performer should palm the -various objects with equal facility in either hand. - -When you can hold a coin properly, as described, practice with other -objects of a similar size. In this case, however, owing to the greater -extent of surface, it will not be found necessary to press the object -into the palm, but simply to close the fingers round it, in the act of -apparently placing it in the left hand. - -THE PASS. Second only in importance to the palming is the pass. Hold -the coin between the fingers and thumb of the left hand (Fig. 3), and -then appear to take it in the right by passing the thumb under and the -fingers over the coin. - -[Illustration: Fig. 3.--THE PASS] - -Under cover of the right hand the coin is allowed to fall into the -fingers of the left, where, by a slight contraction, it may be held -between the first and second joints, or it may be allowed to fall -into the palm proper. The right hand must be closed and raised as -if it really contained the coin, and be followed by the eyes of the -performer; the left falling to the side. This pass should be performed -equally well from either hand. - -THE FINGER PALM.--Lay a coin on the fingers as shown in Fig. 4. Then, -in the act of apparently placing it in the left hand, raise the -forefinger slightly and clip the coin between it and the second finger. -The left hand must now close as if it contained the coin, and be -followed by the eyes of the performer, while the right hand disposes of -the coin as may be necessary. - -[Illustration: Fig. 4.--THE FINGER PALM] - -Following is an illustration of the way in which this sleight can be -employed with good effect. - -Place a candle on the table to your left, and then execute the pass as -above described. The thumb of the right hand should now close on the -edge of the coin nearest to itself and draw it back a little; and at -the same time the candle should be taken from the candlestick between -the thumb and fingers of the same hand. (Fig. 5.) The left hand, which -is supposed to contain the coin, should now be held over the candle -and opened slowly, the effect to the spectators being that the coin is -dissolved into the flame. Both hands at this point should be shown back -and front, as the coin, owing to its peculiar position, cannot be seen -at a short distance. You now take the upper part of the candle in the -left hand, then lower the right hand to the lower end and produce the -coin from thence, the effect being that the money is passing through -the candle from one end to the other. - -[Illustration: Fig. 5] - -TO CHANGE A COIN.--Sometimes, in order to bring about a desired result, -it is necessary to change, or, in conjurer’s parlance, to “ring” a -borrowed or marked coin for a substitute of your own. There are many -ways of effecting this, but having once mastered the various “palms” -the student will readily invent means for himself. The following, -however, is the one generally adopted by conjurers: - -Borrow a coin and have it marked. Then take it between the fingers and -thumb of the left hand, as in the pass (Fig. 3), having previously -secreted the substitute in the palm of the right. Now take the coin in -the right hand, and in so doing drop the substitute into the palm of -the left, which you immediately close, and remark, “You have all seen -me take the coin visibly from the left hand. I will now make it return -invisibly.” Saying this, you appear to throw the marked coin into the -left hand, really palming it, and showing your own, which every one -takes to be the original borrowed one. You may now proceed with the -trick in question, disposing of the marked coin as may be necessary. - -Let the student practice faithfully the steps here given. He shall then -be prepared to make practical use of them, as we shall endeavor to show -in the next paper. - - - - - THE OLD TRUNK - -This department we believe is destined soon to become one of the most -popular features of the magazine. Not only shall we spare no pains upon -our part, but we also earnestly ask your co-operation in providing -puzzles of all shapes and descriptions to bewilder and tangle the -most ingenious of intellects. To each of the first three persons who -shall correctly solve all the following puzzles, we will give a year’s -subscription to Young Folks Magazine, to be sent to any desired address. - - - ZIGZAG - - 1. A plant, but better known as a beverage. - 2. To cross out. - 3. An instrument for pounding. - 4. A kind of ointment. - 5. Reddish-brown. - 6. To flee from danger. - 7. To breathe out. - 8. A planet. - -When these words of six letters are correctly guessed and placed in the -order given, from 1 to 8 will spell the name of a common mineral found -in rocks. - - . . . 1 . . - . . . . 2 . - . . . 3 . . - . . . . 4 . - . . . 5 . . - . . . . 6 . - . . . 7 . . - . . . . 8 . - - --_Frank F. Rider_ - - - ENIGMA - -I am composed of sixteen letters: - -My 2, 9, 6, 8, 16, 12, is a very small but useful household implement. - -My 5, 4, 10, 11, 1, 15, is another implement, very common in the -school-room. - -My 13, 14, 7, 3, is the part of a person closely in touch with both. - -My whole is a building known throughout the land. - - --_Samuel Baird_ - - - BIRD PIE - - Gtkinle, - Yulbeaj, - Orinb, - Rildbbake, - Rwco, - Doshwhurot. - - --_J. F. Stokes_ - - - ENIGMA - -I am composed of seventeen letters: - -My 4, 9, 10, 12, grows on an evergreen tree. - -My 11, 1, 14, 5, is a small valley. - -My 8, 15, 16, 5, is to grow less. - -My 17, 3, 7, is a noise. - -My 2, 1, 6, 13, is the home of a wild animal. - -My whole is a book which you have all, doubtless, enjoyed. - - --_E. L. Barnes_ - - - DIAGONAL - -When the following words of eight letters are guessed correctly and -placed one above the other in the order given, so as to form a square, -the diagonal from the upper left-hand corner to the lower right will -spell the name of one of the most important battles of the Revolution: - - 1. Reasonable. - 2. Adherent. - 3. Kind-hearted. - 4. Ensnare. - 5. Goods. - 6. Resonant. - 7. To barter. - 8. One of Longfellow’s poems. - - --_Bessie M_---- - - - HIDING ANIMALS. - -In each of the following sentences there are three hiding animals: - -“It must be,” averred Caleb, earnestly, as he gazed at the new easel. - -Wampum, a kind of money, used by the Indians, was made ere Cabot -terrified them by his presence. - -Morse altered his plans, and accepting the offer, returned from his -foreign travel, knowing it to be for the best. - - --_Margaret West_ - - - A BUNCH OF KEYS - - A JINGLE - - A key to bear one up the mountain side; - A key to guard where freedom is denied. - The third, oft heard to chatter, ne’er in song. - The fourth beware! ’twill lead to gravest wrong. - This key his master serves, to ride, to work, to wait; - This one, spring-hatched, at Christmas meets his fate. - - --_Caroline L_---- - - - - -Transcriber’s Notes: - - -A number of typographical errors have been corrected silently. - -Archaic spellings have been retained. - -Cover image is in the public domain. - -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. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK YOUNG FOLKS MAGAZINE, VOL. 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