WE WERE CARRYING MISS BURROUGHS TO THE BARN. 
 
A Story-teller s Pack. By 
 Frank R. Stockton 
 
 Illustrated by Peter Newell, W. T. Smedley 
 Frank O. Small, Alice Barber Stephens, and 
 E. W. Kemble :::::::::::::::: 
 
 Charles Scribner s Sons 
 New York ^^^i 1897 
 
Copyright, 1897, ty 
 Charles Scribner s Sons 
 
 TROW DIRECTORY 
 
 PRINTING AND BOOK BINDING COMPANY 
 NEW YORK 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 
 A Few Words to Begin with, . i 
 The Magic Egg, ...... 7 
 
 The Staying Power of Sir Rohan, n 
 The Widow s Cruise, . . . . 81 
 
 Love Before Breakfast, . . . , /// 
 
 The Bishop s Ghost and the Print- 
 er s Baby, . . . . . . /59 
 
 Captain Eli s Best Ear, . . . . 171 
 As One Woman to Another, . . 2/5 
 
 340126 
 
vi CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 
 My Well and What Came Out 
 of ^ 375 
 
 Stephen Skarridge s Christmas, . 311 
 My Unwilling Neighbor, . . . 343 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 We were carrying Miss Burroughs 
 
 to the barn, Frontispiece 
 
 Facing 
 page 
 
 She made but a step into the room and 
 
 stood holding the door, 40 
 
 "I had nothing to do hut step up and 
 feel her pulse," 50 
 
 " You cut a powerful queer figure, young 
 
 man," 72 
 
 John must have driven backward and for 
 ward for half an hour , 78 
 
 The Widow Ducket said nothing, ... 92 
 
 " Tlrings were get tin awf idler and awful- 
 
 ler every instant," 100 
 
viii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Facing 
 page 
 
 I gave myself the pleasure of personally 
 
 conducting them about the premises, . 1 16 
 
 At the Steamship Office, 7^2 
 
 " Are you going to stay to breakfast?" 
 
 she asked, 756 
 
 Captain Cephas had brought over a bundle 
 
 of things, 792 
 
 Going to the window, I threw the pigeon 
 
 into the air, 23 
 
 While the inn-keeper was giving me the 
 information I endeavored to suppress 
 my excitement, 240 
 
 " Is that Mr. Thomas ?" . ... 244 
 
 Together we went out of the woods, . . 264 
 I began to search for the well, .... 364 
 
A FEW WORDS TO BEGIN WITH 
 
A FEW WORDS TO BEGIN 
 WITH 
 
 THE Story-teller puts down his pack, not 
 a very heavy one, and if any of those 
 who gather around him desire to know any 
 thing about the tales he bears, which shall be 
 a little more interesting than a mere recital 
 of their names in order, he will most gladly 
 say a few words about them. 
 
 Here, now, is " The Magic Egg," and it is 
 not everyone who, upon reading this story 
 will believe that all of the things told therein 
 could have happened. Of course, there are 
 those who never, under any circumstances, 
 believe anything magical, but then, there 
 are other persons who will believe in magic, 
 provided it shall appear reasonable. Now, if 
 the happenings in this story seem unreason 
 able to anyone, let him or her wait until the 
 middle of the first decade of the twentieth 
 century. By that time, no doubt, the story 
 will be easier to believe. 
 
2 A FEW WORDS TO BEGIN WITH 
 
 As to " The Staying Power of Sir Eohan," 
 it may be remarked that the story controverts 
 a very popular belief among horsemen, to the 
 effect that a roan horse has never anything 
 the matter with him. Now, there can be 
 nothing more to the detriment of a horse than 
 for him to know too much. What loves have 
 been affected, what fortunes have been 
 swayed, what ambitions have been aided and 
 thwarted by over-knowledge in horses or 
 men! 
 
 This being the age of womanly endeavor, 
 it was pleasant to chronicle, in " The Widow s 
 Cruise," the very successful endeavor of a 
 good woman, not only to rise to the level of 
 the male maritime yarn, but to soar above it, 
 and to look with pardonable contempt upon 
 certain persons of the contrary sex, who had 
 under-estimated her mental grasp. 
 
 For "Love Before Breakfast," the Story 
 teller has a certain affectionate feeling, be 
 cause the scene of the story and all its sur 
 roundings are those of his own home. The 
 characters mentioned never came upon that 
 scene, nor did any of the incidents happen 
 there ; but it is always most interesting, 
 both to writer and reader, when unreal per- 
 
A FEW WORDS TO BEGIN WITH 
 
 sonages can be made to inhabit perfectly 
 real places. 
 
 " The Bishop s Ghost and the Printer s 
 Baby " was suggested by the tomb of Chaucer, 
 in Westminster Abbey. The Story-teller was 
 standing by that ancient sepulchre, when he 
 perceived that some of the mortar under the 
 stone lid had crumbled, and had fallen out, 
 and naturally came the thought that out of 
 such a little crack might gently slip the ghost 
 of the poet, like a faint mist from " that pure 
 well of English undefiled," floating quietly, 
 here and there, among the old effigies and in 
 scriptions, and touching now and then some 
 noble visage, or some honored name with 
 moist regard. 
 
 Had it not been for the enchanting scent 
 of balmy salt water which hangs in the sum 
 mer air along the southern coast of Cape Cod, 
 " Captain Eli " would not have been the man 
 he was, and of course, in that case, one of his 
 ears would not have been better than the 
 other. The world is full of good-hearted and 
 noble sailors, but it is in the atmosphere of 
 Nantucket Island and Buzzard s Bay that the 
 " Old Captain " gently ripens into his most 
 perfect fruition. If " Captain Eli " and " Cap- 
 
4 A FEW WORDS TO BEGIN WITH 
 
 tain Cephas " are not quite ripe, there is hope 
 for them. They are living yet. 
 
 It was on a beautiful day in summer that 
 the Story-teller lay in a hammock and looked 
 up between the branches of a wide-spreading 
 tree, into the clear blue sky, and while gazing 
 into that mystical region of incomprehensible 
 space, he began to wonder what he would 
 think if suddenly he saw, in the midst of all 
 that delicate blue, a little black speck. What 
 could such a speck be ? Where could it come 
 from ? Presently that speck did appear. It 
 was the idea of the story, " As One Woman 
 to Another." 
 
 It may be that to many persons who own a 
 country home, the story of " My Well, and 
 What Came Out of It " may possess a pe 
 culiar interest perhaps a pleasant interest, 
 perhaps otherwise ; and if such persons 
 should at any time put themselves into the 
 hands of a man with a divining twig, they will 
 have good reason to expect to get a great deal 
 more than water. The opinions, the advice, 
 the remonstrances, the encouragements, the 
 pessimism, and the optimism which will well 
 up from the souls of their contiguous fellow- 
 beings will surprise them more, it may be 
 
A FEW WORDS TO BEGIN WITH 5 
 
 than if a stream of the purest Apollinaris 
 had spouted high into the air. 
 
 " Stephen Skarridge s Christmas " was writ 
 ten long ago, and was intended for the holi 
 day number of Punchinello, that comic jour 
 nal which flourished in New York before 
 Puck dropped one end of his girdle upon 
 Manhattan Island, or Life began. But the 
 merry journal died before the story was 
 printed, and "Mr. Skarridge " appeared in 
 the old Seribners Monthly. Those were the 
 days of the old-fashioned Christmas story, 
 and, under the inspiration of those delight 
 ful " Carols " and " Chimes which revived 
 among us the love of the Yule-tide, there 
 sprang up in this country, as well as in Eng 
 land, a flourishing crop of Christmas stories, 
 all fashioned and shaped, as nearly as their 
 authors could make them, like unto their 
 shining prototypes. As so many people were 
 writing Christmas stories, this Story-teller 
 thought that he would try his hand. 
 
 Many a marriage in story and in real life 
 has depended upon the joining of estates ; 
 but in the old-fashioned stories it was almost 
 always the case that if the estates did not 
 adjoin at the beginning of the story, they did 
 
G A FEW WORDS TO BEGIN WITH 
 
 not do so at the end. It was otherwise with 
 " My Unwilling Neighbor." When Fate en 
 ters into the service of love, it may not be 
 able, like Faith, to move mountains, but it 
 can do good work. 
 
 The Story-teller has nothing more to tell 
 about the contents of his Pack ; it is now the 
 turn of the buyer to have his say. 
 
 
THE MAGIC EGG 
 
THE MAGIC EGG 
 
 THE pretty little theatre attached to the 
 building of the Unicorn Club had been 
 hired for a certain January afternoon by Mr. 
 Herbert Loring, who wished to give therein 
 a somewhat novel performance to which he 
 had invited a small audience consisting en 
 tirely of friends and acquaintances. 
 
 Loring was a handsome fellow about thirty 
 years old, who had travelled far and studied 
 much. He had recently made a long sojourn 
 in the far East, and his friends had been in 
 vited to the theatre to see some of the won 
 derful things he had brought from that coun 
 try of wonders. As Loring was a clubman, 
 and belonged to a family of good social stand 
 ing, his circle of acquaintances was large, and 
 in this circle a good many unpleasant remarks 
 had been made regarding the proposed enter 
 tainment made, of course, by the people who 
 had not been invited to be present. Some of 
 
10 THE NAGIG EGG 
 
 the gossip on the subject had reached Loring, 
 who did not hesitate to say that he could not 
 talk to a crowd, and that he did not care to 
 show the curious things he had collected to 
 people who would not thoroughly appreciate 
 them. He had been very particular in re 
 gard to his invitations. 
 
 At three o clock on the appointed afternoon 
 nearly all the people who had been invited to 
 the Unicorn theatre were in their seats. No 
 one had stayed away except for some very 
 good reason, for it was well known that if 
 Herbert Loring offered to show anything it 
 was worth seeing. 
 
 About forty people were present, who sat 
 talking to one another, or admiring the decor 
 ation of the theatre. As Loring stood upon 
 the stage where he was entirely alone, his 
 exhibition requiring ;ao assistants he gazed 
 through a loophole in the curtain upon 
 a very interesting array of faces. There 
 were the faces of many men and women 
 of society, of students, of workers in var 
 ious fields of thought, and even of idlers 
 in all fields of thought, but there was not 
 one which indicated a frivolous or listless 
 disposition. The owners of those faces had 
 
THE MAGIG EGG 11 
 
 come to see something, and they wished to 
 see it. 
 
 For a quarter of an hour after the time an 
 nounced for the opening of the exhibition 
 Loring peered through the hole in the cur 
 tain, and then, although all the people he 
 had expected had not arrived, he felt it would 
 not do for him to wait any longer. The au 
 dience was composed of well-bred and courte 
 ous men and women, but despite their polite 
 self-restraint Loring could see that some of 
 them were getting tired of waiting. So, very 
 reluctantly, and feeling that further delay was 
 impossible, he raised the curtain and came 
 forward on the stage. 
 
 Briefly he announced that the exhibition 
 would open with some fireworks he had 
 brought from Corea. It was plain to see 
 that the statement that fireworks were about 
 to be set off on a theatre stage, by an am 
 ateur, had rather startled some of the audi 
 ence, and Loring hastened to explain that 
 these were not real fireworks, but that they 
 were contrivances made of colored glass, 
 which were illuminated by the powerful lens 
 of a lantern which was placed out of sight, and 
 while the apparent pyrotechnic display would 
 
12 THE MAGIG EGG 
 
 resemble fireworks of strange and grotesque 
 designs, it would be absolutely without dan 
 ger. He brought out some little bunches of 
 bits of colored glass, hung them at some dis 
 tance apart on a wire which was stretched 
 across the stage just high enough for him to 
 reach it, and then lighted his lantern, which 
 he placed in one of the wings, lowered all 
 the lights in the theatre, and began his exhi 
 bition. 
 
 As Loring turned his lantern on one of the 
 clusters of glass lenses; strips, and points, 
 and, unseen himself, caused them to move by 
 means of long cords attached, the effects were 
 beautiful and marvellous. Little wheels of 
 colored fire rapidly revolved, miniature rock 
 ets appeared to rise a few feet and to explode 
 in the air, and while all the ordinary forms 
 of fireworks were produced on a diminutive 
 scale, there were some effects that were en 
 tirely novel to the audience. As the light 
 was turned successively upon one and another 
 of the clusters of glass, sometimes it would 
 flash along the whole line so rapidly that all 
 the various combinations of color and motion 
 seemed to be combined in one, and then for 
 a time each particular set of fireworks wonld 
 
THE MAGIC EGG 13 
 
 blaze, sparkle, and coruscate by itself, scatter 
 ing particles of colored light, as if they had 
 been real sparks of fire. 
 
 This curious and beautiful exhibition of 
 miniature pyrotechnics was extremely inter 
 esting to the audience, who gazed upward 
 with rapt and eager attention at the line of 
 wheels, stars, and revolving spheres. So far 
 as interest gave evidence of satisfaction, there 
 was never a better satisfied audience. At 
 first there had been some hushed murmurs of 
 pleasure, but very soon the attention of every 
 one seemed so completely engrossed by the 
 dazzling display that they simply gazed in 
 silence. 
 
 For twenty minutes or longer the glitter 
 ing show went on, and not a sign of weariness 
 or inattention was made by any one of the 
 assembled company. Then gradually the 
 colors of the little fireworks faded, the stars 
 and wheels revolved more slowly, the lights 
 in the body of the theatre were gradually 
 raised, and the stage curtain went softly 
 down. 
 
 Anxiously, and a little pale, Herbert Lor- 
 ing peered through the loophole in the cur 
 tain. It was not easy to judge of the effects 
 
14 THE MAGIC EGG 
 
 of his exhibition, and he did not know whether 
 or not it had been a success. There was no 
 applause, but, on the other hand, there was no 
 signs that any one resented the exhibition as 
 a childish display of colored lights. It was 
 impossible to look upon that audience with 
 out believing that they had been thoroughly 
 interested in what they had seen, and that 
 they expected to see more. 
 
 For two or three minutes Loring gazed 
 through his loophole and then, still with 
 some doubt in his heart, but with a little more 
 color in his cheeks, he prepared for the sec 
 ond part of his performance. 
 
 At this moment there entered the theatre, 
 at the very back of the house, a young lady. 
 She was handsome and well- dressed, and as 
 she opened the door Loring had employed 
 110 ushers or other assistants in this little 
 social performance she paused for a mo 
 ment and looked into the theatre, and then 
 noiselessly stepped to a chair in the back row, 
 and sat down. 
 
 This was* Edith Starr, who, a month be 
 fore, had been betrothed to Herbert Loring. 
 Edith and her mother had been invited to 
 this performance, and front seats had been 
 
THE MAGIC EGG 15 
 
 reserved for them, for each guest had received 
 a numbered card ; but Mrs. Starr had a head 
 ache, and could not go out that afternoon, 
 and for a time her daughter had thought 
 that she too must give up the pleasure Lor- 
 ing had promised her, and stay with her 
 mother. But when the elder lady dropped 
 into a quiet sleep, Edith thought that, late 
 as it was, she would go by herself, and see 
 what she could of the performance. 
 
 She was quite certain that if her presence 
 were known to Loring he would stop what 
 ever he was doing until she had been pro 
 vided with a seat which he thought suitable 
 for her, for he had made a point of her being 
 properly seated when he gave the invitations. 
 Therefore, being equally desirous of not dis 
 turbing the performance and of not being her 
 self conspicuous, she sat behind two rather 
 large men, where she could see the stage per 
 fectly well, but where she herself would not 
 be likely to be seen. 
 
 In a few moments the curtain rose, and Lor 
 ing came forward, carrying a small, light table, 
 which he placed near the front of the stage, 
 and for a moment stood quietly by it. Edith 
 noticed upon his face the expression of un- 
 
16 THE MAGIC EGG 
 
 certainty and anxiety which had not yet left 
 it. Standing by the side of the table, and 
 speaking very slowly, but so clearly that his 
 words could be heard distinctly in all parts 
 of the room, he began some introductory re 
 marks regarding the second part of his per 
 formance. 
 
 " The extraordinary, and I may say mar 
 vellous, thing which I am about to show you," 
 he said, " is known among East Indian ma 
 gicians as the magic egg. The exhibition is 
 a very uncommon one, and has seldom been 
 seen by Americans or Europeans, and it was 
 by a piece of rare good fortune that I became 
 possessed of the appliances necessary for this 
 exhibition. They are indeed very few and 
 simple, but never before, to the best of my 
 knowledge and belief, have they been seen 
 outside of India. 
 
 " I will now get the little box which con 
 tains the articles necessary for this magical 
 performance, and I will say that if I had time 
 to tell you of the strange and amazing advent 
 ure which resulted in my possession of this 
 box, I am sure you would be as much inter 
 ested in that as I expect you to be in the 
 contents of the box. But, in order that none 
 
THE MAGIC EGG 17 
 
 of you may think this is an ordinary trick, 
 executed by means of concealed traps or 
 doors, I wish you to take particular notice 
 of this table, which is, as you see, a plain, 
 unpainted pine table with nothing but a flat 
 top, and four straight legs at the corners. 
 You can see under and around it, and it gives 
 no opportunity to conceal anything." Then 
 standing for a few moments as if he had 
 something else to say, he turned and stepped 
 toward one of the wings. 
 
 Edith was troubled as she looked at her 
 lover during these remarks. Her interest 
 was great ; greater, indeed, than that of the 
 people about her ; but it was not a pleasant 
 interest. As Loring stopped speaking, and 
 looked about him, there was a momentary 
 flush on his face. She knew this was caused 
 by excitement, and she was pale from the 
 same cause. 
 
 Very soon Loring came forward, and stood 
 by the table. 
 
 " Here is the box," he said, " of which T 
 spoke, and as I hold it up I think you can all 
 see it. It is not large, being certainly not 
 more than twelve inches in length and two 
 deep, but it contains some very wonderful 
 
18 THE MAGIC EGG 
 
 things. The outside of this box is covered 
 with delicate engraving and carving which 
 you cannot see, and these marks and lines 
 have, I think, some magical meaning, but I 
 do not know what it is. I will now open the 
 box, and show you what is inside. The first 
 thing I take out is this little stick, not thicker 
 than a lead-pencil, but somewhat longer, as 
 you see. This is a magical wand, and is 
 covered with inscriptions of the same char 
 acter as those on the outside of the box. 
 The next thing is this little red bag, well- 
 filled, as you see, which I shall put on the 
 table, for I shall not yet need it. 
 
 "Now I take out a piece of cloth which is 
 folded into a very small compass, but as I 
 unfold it you will perceive that it is more 
 than a foot square, and is covered with em 
 broidery. All those strange lines and figures 
 in gold and red, which you can plainly see on 
 the cloth as I hold it up, are also characters 
 in the same magic language as those on the 
 box and wand. I will now spread the cloth 
 on the table, and then take out the only re 
 maining thing in the box, and this is nothing 
 in the world but an egg a simple, ordinary 
 hen s egg, as you all see as I hold it up. It 
 
THE MAGIC EGG 19 
 
 may be a trifle larger than au ordinary egg, 
 but then, after all, it is nothing but a common 
 egg that is, in appearance ; in reality it is a 
 good deal more. 
 
 " Now I will begin the performance," and 
 as he stood by the back of the table over 
 which he had been slightly bending, and 
 threw his eyes over the audience, his voice 
 was stronger, and his face had lost all its pal 
 lor. He was evidently warming up with his 
 subject. 
 
 " I now take up this wand," he said, " which, 
 while I hold it, gives me power to produce 
 the phenomena which you are about to be 
 hold. You may not all believe that there is 
 any magic whatever about this little perform 
 ance, and that it is all a bit of machinery ; 
 but whatever you may think about it, you 
 shall see what you shall see. 
 
 " Now with this wand I gently touch this 
 egg which is lying on the square of cloth. I 
 do not believe you can see what has hap 
 pened to this egg, but I will tell you. There 
 is a little line, like a hair, entirely around it. 
 Now that line has become a crack. Now you 
 can see it, I know. It grows wider and wider ! 
 Look ! The shell of the egg is separating in 
 
20 THE MAGIC EGG 
 
 the middle. The whole egg slightly moves. 
 Do you notice that ? Now you can see some 
 thing yellow showing itself between the two 
 parts of the shell. See ! It is moving a good 
 deal, and the two halves of the shell are sep 
 arating more and more ! And now out tum 
 bles this queer little object. Do you see 
 what it is ? It is a poor, weak, little chick, 
 not able to stand, but alive alive ! You can 
 all perceive that it is alive. Now you can 
 see that it is standing on its feet, feebly 
 enough, but still standing. 
 
 " Behold, it takes a few steps ! You cannot 
 doubt that it is alive, and came out of that 
 egg. It is beginning to walk about over the 
 cloth. Do you notice that it is picking the 
 embroidery? Now, little chick, I will give 
 you something to eat. This little red bag 
 contains grain, a magical grain, with which I 
 shall feed the chicken. You must excuse my 
 awkwardness in opening the bag, as I still 
 hold the wand ;, but this little stick I must 
 not drop. See, little chick, there are some 
 grains. They look like rice, but, in fact, I 
 have no idea what they are. But he knows, 
 he knows ! Look at him ! See how he picks 
 it up ! There ! He has swallowed one, two, 
 
TUE MAGIC BOG 21 
 
 three. That will do, little chick, for a first 
 meal. 
 
 "The grain seems to have strengthened 
 him already, for see how lively he is, and how 
 his yellow down stands out on him, so puffy 
 and warm ! You are looking for some more 
 grain, are you? Well, you cannot have it 
 just yet, and keep away from those pieces of 
 egg-shell, which, by the way, I will put back 
 into the box. Now, sir, try to avoid the 
 edge of the table, and, to quiet you, I will give 
 you a little tap on the back with my wand. 
 Now, then, please observe closely. The down 
 which just now covered him has almost gone. 
 He is really a good deal bigger, and ever so 
 much uglier. See the little pin -feathers 
 sticking out over him ! Some spots, here and 
 there are almost bare, but he is ever so much 
 more active. Ha ! Listen to that ! He is so 
 strong that you can hear his beak as he pecks 
 at the table. He is actually growing bigger 
 and bigger before our very eyes ! See that 
 funny little tail, how it begins to stick up, 
 and quills are showing at the end of his wings. 
 
 "Another tap, and a few more grains. 
 Careful, sir ! Don t tear the cloth ! See how 
 rapidly he grows ! He is fairly covered with 
 
22 THE MAGIC EGO 
 
 feathers, red and black, with a tip of yellow 
 in front. You could hardly get that fellow 
 into an ostrich egg ! Now, then, what do you 
 think of him ? He is big enough for a broiler, 
 though I don t think anyone would want to 
 take him for that purpose. Some more grain, 
 and another tap from my wand. See! He 
 does not mind the little stick, for he has 
 been used to it from his very birth. Now, 
 then, he is what you would call a good half- 
 grown chick. Bather more than half grown, 
 I should say. Do you notice his tail ? There 
 is no mistaking him for a pullet. The long 
 feathers are beginning to curl over, already. 
 He must have a little more grain. Look out, 
 sir or you will be off the table ! Come back 
 here ! This table is too small for him, but if 
 he were on the floor you could not see him so 
 well. 
 
 "Another tap. Now see that comb on the 
 top of his head ; you scarcely noticed it be 
 fore, and now it is bright red. And see his 
 spurs beginning to show on good thick legs, 
 too. There is a fine young fellow for you ! 
 Look how he jerks his head from side to 
 side, like the } r oung prince of a poultry-yard, 
 as he well deserves to be ! " 
 
THE MAGIC EGG 23 
 
 The attentive interest which had at first 
 characterized the audience now changed to 
 excited admiration and amazement. Some 
 leaned forward with mouths wide open. 
 Others stood up so that they could see bet 
 ter. Ejaculations of astonishment and won 
 der were heard on every side, and a more 
 thoroughly fascinated and absorbed audience 
 was never seen. 
 
 " Now, my friends," Loring continued, " I 
 will give this handsome fowl another tap. 
 Behold the result a noble, full-grown cock ! 
 Behold his spurs; they are nearly an inch 
 long! See, there is a comb for you; and 
 what a magnificent tail of green and black, 
 contrasting so finely with the deep red of the 
 rest of his body ! Well, sir, you are truly 
 too big for this table. As I cannot give you 
 more room, I will set you up higher. Move 
 over a little, and I will set this chair on the 
 table. There! Up on the seat! That s 
 right, but don t stop; there is the back, 
 which is higher yet ! Up with you ! Ha ! 
 There, he nearly upset the chair, but I will 
 hold it. See ! He has turned around. Now, 
 then, look at him. See his wings as he flaps 
 them ! He could fly with such wings. Look 
 
24 THE MAGIO EGG 
 
 at him ! See that swelling breast ! Ha, 
 Ha ! Listen ! Did you ever hear a crow like 
 that? It fairly rings through the house. 
 Yes ; I knew it ! There is another ! " 
 
 At this point, the people in the house were 
 in a state of wild excitement. Nearly all of 
 them were on their feet, and they were in 
 such a condition of frantic enthusiasm that 
 Loring was afraid some of them might make 
 a run for the stage. 
 
 " Come, sir," cried Loring, now almost 
 shouting, " that will do ; you have shown us 
 the strength of your lungs. Jump down on 
 the seat of the chair, now on the table. 
 There, I will take away the chair, and you 
 can stand for a moment on the table, and let 
 our friends look at you, but only for a moment. 
 Take that tap on your back. Now do you 
 see any difference? Perhaps you may not, 
 but I do. Yes ; I believe you all do. He is 
 not the big fellow he was a minute ago. He 
 is really smaller; only a fine cockerel. A 
 nice tail that, but with none of the noble 
 sweep that it had a minute ago. No ; don t 
 try to get off the table. You can t escape my 
 wand. Another tap. Behold a half -grown 
 chicken, good to eat, but with not a crow in 
 
THE MAGIC EGG 25 
 
 him. Hungry, are you? But you need not 
 pick at the table that way. You get no more 
 grain, but only this little tap. Ha ! Ha ! 
 What are you coming to ? There is a chicken 
 barely feathered enough for us to tell wLat 
 color he is going to be. 
 
 "Another tap will take still more of the 
 conceit out of him. Look at him ! There 
 are his pin - feathers, and his bare spots. 
 Don t try to get away ; I can easily tap you 
 again. Now, then. Here is a lovely little 
 chick, fluffy with yellow down. He is active 
 enough, but I shall quiet him. One tap, and 
 now what do you see ? A poor feeble chicken, 
 scarcely able to stand, with his down all 
 packed close to him as if he had been out in 
 the rain. Ah, little chick, I will take the 
 two halves of the egg-shell from which you 
 came, and put them on each side of you. 
 Come now, get in ! I close them up ; you 
 are lost to view. There is nothing to be 
 seen but a crack around the shell ! Now it 
 has gone ! There, my friends, as I hold it on 
 high, behold the magic egg, exactly as it was 
 when I first took it out of the box, into 
 which I will place it again, with the cloth and 
 the wand and the little red bag, and shut it 
 
26 TEE MAGIC EGG 
 
 up with a snap. I will let you take one more 
 look at this box before I put it away behind 
 the scenes. Are you satisfied with what I 
 have shown you ? Do you think it is really 
 as wonderful as you supposed it would be ? " 
 
 At these words the whole audience burst 
 into riotous applause, during which Loring 
 disappeared ; but he was back in a moment. 
 
 " Thank you ! " he cried, bowing low, and 
 waving his arms before him in the manner 
 of an Eastern magician making a salaam. 
 From side to side he turned, bowing and 
 thanking, and then with a hearty, "Good-by 
 to you, good- by to you all ! " he stepped back, 
 and let down the curtain. 
 
 For some moments the audience remained 
 in their seats as if they were expecting some 
 thing more, and then they rose quietly and 
 began to disperse. Most of them were ac 
 quainted with one another, and there was a 
 good deal of greeting and talking as they 
 went out of the theatre. 
 
 When Loring was sure the last person had 
 departed, he turned down the lights, locked 
 the door, and gave the key to the steward of 
 the club. 
 
 He walked to his home a happy man. His 
 
THE MAGIG EGG 27 
 
 exhibition had been a perfect success, with 
 not a break or a flaw in it from beginning 
 to end. 
 
 "I feel," thought the young man, as he 
 strode along, " as if I could fly to the top of 
 that steeple, and flap and crow until all the 
 world heard me." 
 
 That evening, as was his daily custom, 
 Herbert Loring called upon Miss Starr. He 
 found the young lady in the library. 
 
 "I came in here," she said, "because I 
 have a good deal to talk to you about, and I 
 do not want interruptions." 
 
 With this arrangement the young man ex 
 pressed his entire satisfaction, and imme 
 diately began to inquire the cause of her ab 
 sence from his exhibition in the afternoon. 
 
 " But I was there," said Edith. " You did 
 not see me, but I was there. Mother had a 
 headache, and I went by myself." 
 
 " You were there ! " exclaimed Loring, al 
 most starting from his chair. " I don t un 
 derstand. You were not in your seat." 
 
 " No," answered Edith ; " I was on the very 
 back row of seats. You could not see me, 
 and I did not wish you to see me." 
 
 "Edith!" exclaimed Loring, rising to his 
 
28 THE MAGIC EGG 
 
 feet, and leaning over the library table, which 
 was between them. " When did you come ? 
 How much of the performance did you see ? " 
 
 "I was late," she said; "I did not arrive 
 until after the fireworks, or whatever they 
 were." 
 
 For a moment Loring was silent, as if he 
 did not understand the situation. 
 
 "Fireworks!" he said. "How did you 
 know there had been fireworks ? " 
 
 " I heard the people talking of them as 
 they left the theatre," she answered. 
 
 " And what did they say ? " he inquired, 
 quickly. 
 
 " They seemed to like them very well," she 
 replied, "but I do not think they were quite 
 satisfied. From what I heard some persons 
 say, I inferred that they thought it was not 
 very much of a show to which you had in 
 vited them." 
 
 Again Loring stood in thought, looking 
 down at the table ; but before he could speak 
 again, Edith sprang to her feet. 
 
 " Herbert Loring," she cried, " what does 
 all this mean ? I was there during the whole 
 of the exhibition of what you called the 
 magic egg. I saw all those people wild with 
 
THE MAGIC EGG 29 
 
 excitement at the wonderful sight of the 
 chicken that came out of the egg, and grew 
 to full size, and then dwindled down again, 
 and went back into the egg, and, Herbert, 
 there was no egg, and there was no little box, 
 and there was no wand, and no embroidered 
 cloth, and there was no red bag, nor any lit 
 tle chick, and there was no full-grown fowl, 
 and there was no chair that you put on the 
 table! There was nothing, absolutely noth 
 ing, but you and that table ! And even the 
 table was not what you said it was. It was 
 not an unpainted pine table with four straight 
 legs. It was a table of dark polished wood, 
 and it stood on a single post with feet. 
 There was nothing there that you said was 
 there ; everything was a sham and a delusion ; 
 every word you spoke was untrue. And yet 
 everybody in that theatre, excepting you and 
 me, saw all the things that you said were on 
 the stage. I know they saw them all, for I 
 was with the people, and heard them, and 
 saw them, and at times I fairly felt the thrill 
 of enthusiasm which possessed them as they 
 glared at the miracles and wonders you said 
 were happening." 
 
 Loring smiled. " Sit down, my dear Edith," 
 
30 THE MAGIC EGG 
 
 he said. "You are excited, and there is not 
 the slightest cause for it. I will explain the 
 whole affair to you. It is simple enough. 
 You know that study is the great object of 
 my life. I study all sorts of things, and just 
 now I am greatly interested in hypnotism. 
 The subject has become fascinating to me ; I 
 have made a great many successful trials of 
 my power, and the affair of this afternoon 
 was nothing but a trial of my powers on a 
 more extensive scale than anything I have 
 yet attempted. I wanted to see if it were 
 possible for me to hypnotize a considerable 
 number of people without anyone suspecting 
 what I intended to do. The result was a 
 success. I hypnotized all those people by 
 means of the first part of my performance, 
 which consisted of some combinations of col 
 ored glass with lights thrown upon them. 
 They revolved, and looked like fireworks, 
 and were strung on a wire high up on the 
 stage. 
 
 " I kept up the glittering and dazzling show 
 which was well worth seeing, I can assure 
 you until the people had been straining 
 their eyes upward for almost half an hour ; 
 and this sort of thing I will tell you if you 
 
THE MAGIC EGG 31 
 
 do not know it is one of the methods of 
 producing hypnotic sleep. 
 
 " There was no one present who was not 
 an impressionable subject, for I was very 
 careful in sending out my invitations, and 
 when I became almost certain that my audi 
 ence was thoroughly hypnotized, I stopped 
 the show, and began the real exhibition, 
 which was not really for their benefit, but for 
 mine. 
 
 " Of course, I was dreadfully anxious for 
 fear I had not succeeded entirely, and that 
 there might be at least some one person who 
 had not succumbed to the hypnotic influences, 
 and so I tested the matter by bringing out 
 that table, and telling them it was something 
 it was not. If I had had any reason for sup 
 posing that some of the audience saw the 
 table as it really was, I had an explanation 
 ready, and I could have retired from my po 
 sition without any one supposing that I had 
 intended making hypnotic experiments. The 
 rest of the exhibition would have been some 
 things that any one could see, and as soon as 
 possible I would have released from their 
 spell those who were hypnotized. But when 
 I became positively assured that every one 
 
32 THE MAGIC EGG 
 
 saw a light pine table with four straight legs, 
 I confidently went on with the performances 
 of the magic egg." 
 
 Edith Stan* was still standing by the library 
 table. She had not heeded Loring s advice to 
 sit down, and she was trembling with emotion. 
 
 "Herbert Loring," she said, "you invited 
 my mother and me to that exhibition. You 
 gave us tickets for front seats, where we would 
 be certain to be hypnotized if your experi 
 ment succeeded, and you would have made 
 us see that false show, which faded from 
 those people s minds as soon as they recov 
 ered from the spell ; for as they went away 
 they were talking only of the fireworks, and 
 not one of them mentioned a magic egg, or a 
 chicken, or anything of the kind. Answer 
 me this : did you not intend that I should 
 come and be put under that spell ? " 
 
 Loring smiled. " Yes," he said, " of course 
 I did; but then your case would have been 
 different from that of the other spectators, I 
 should have explained the whole thing to 
 you, and I am sure we would have had a 
 great deal of pleasure, and profit too, in dis 
 cussing your experiences. The subject is 
 extremely " 
 
THE MAGIC EGG 33 
 
 " Explain to me ! " she cried. " You would 
 not have dared to do it ! I do not know how 
 brave you may be, but I know you would not 
 have had the courage to come here and tell 
 me that you had taken away my reason and 
 my judgment, as you took them away from 
 all those people, and that you had made me 
 a mere tool of your will glaring and panting 
 with excitement at the wonderful things you 
 told me to see where nothing existed. I have 
 nothing to say about the others; they can 
 speak for themselves if they ever come to 
 know what you did to them. I speak for 
 myself. I stood up with the rest of the peo 
 ple. I gazed with all my power, and over 
 and over again I asked myself if it could be 
 possible that anything was the matter with 
 my eyes or my brain, and if I could be the 
 only person there who could not see the mar 
 vellous spectacle that you were describing. 
 But now I know that nothing was real, not 
 even the little pine table, not even the man ! " 
 
 " Not even me ! " exclaimed Loring. " Sure 
 ly I was real enough ! " 
 
 " On that stage, yes," she said ; " but you 
 there proved you were not the Herbert Lor 
 ing to whom I promised myself. He was an 
 
34: THE MAOIG EGG 
 
 unreal being. If he had existed he would 
 not have been a man who would have brought 
 me to that public place, all ignorant of his 
 intentions, to cloud my perceptions, to sub 
 ject my^ intellect to his own, and make me 
 believe a lie. If a man should treat me in 
 that way once he would treat me so at other 
 times, and in other ways, if he had the chance. 
 You have treated me in the past as to-day you 
 treated those people who glared at the magic 
 egg. In the days gone by you made me see 
 an unreal man, but you will never do it again ! 
 Good-by." 
 
 "Edith," cried Loring, " you don t " 
 
 But she had disappeared through a side- 
 door, and he never spoke to her again. 
 
 Walking home through the dimly lighted 
 streets, Loring involuntarily spoke aloud : 
 
 " And this," he said, " is what came out of 
 the magic egg ! " 
 
THE STAYING POWER OF SIR 
 ROHAN 
 
THE STAYING POWER OF SIR 
 ROHAN 
 
 DTJKING the winter in which I reached 
 my twenty-fifth year, I lived with my 
 mother s brother, Dr. Alfred Morris, in War- 
 burton, a small country town, and I was there 
 beginning the practice of medicine. I had 
 been graduated in the spring, and my uncle 
 earnestly advised me to come to him and act 
 as his assistant, which advice, considering the 
 fact that he was an elderly man, and that I 
 might hope to succeed him in his excellent 
 practice, was considered good advice by my 
 self and my family. 
 
 At this time I practised very little, but 
 learned a great deal, for as I often accompan 
 ied my uncle on his professional visits, I 
 could not have taken a better post-graduate 
 course. I had an invitation to spend the 
 Christmas of that year with the Colling- 
 woods, who had opened their country house, 
 
38 STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 about twelve miles from Warburton, for the 
 entertainment of a holiday house party. I 
 had gladly accepted the invitation, and on the 
 day before Christmas I went to the livery 
 stable in the village to hire a horse and 
 sleigh for the trip. At the stable I met 
 " Uncle Beamish," who had also come to hire 
 a conveyance. 
 
 Uncle Beamish, as he was generally called 
 in the village, although I am sure he had no 
 nephews or nieces in the place, was an elder 
 ly man who had retired from some business, 
 I know not what, and was apparently quite 
 able to live upon whatever income he had. 
 He was a good man, rather illiterate, but very 
 shrewd. Generous in good works, I do not 
 think he was fond of giving away money, but 
 his services were at the call of all who need 
 ed them. 
 
 I liked Uncle Beamish very much, for he 
 was not only a good story-teller, but he was 
 willing to listen to my stories, and when I 
 found he wanted to hire a horse and sleigh to 
 go to the house of his married sister, with 
 whom he intended to spend Christmas, and 
 that his sister lived on Upper Hill turnpike, 
 on which road the Collingwood house was 
 
STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 39 
 
 situated, I proposed that we should hire a 
 sleigh together. 
 
 " That will suit me," said Uncle Beamish. 
 " There couldn t have been a better fit if I 
 had been measured for it. Less than half a 
 mile after you turn into the turnpike, you pass 
 my sister s house ; then you can drop me and 
 go on to the Collingwoods, which I should 
 say isn t more than three miles furder." 
 
 The arrangement was made, a horse and 
 sleigh ordered, and early in the afternoon we 
 started from AVarburton. 
 
 The sleighing was good, but the same 
 could not be said of the horse ; he was a big 
 roan, powerful and steady, but entirely too 
 deliberate in action. Uncle Beamish, how 
 ever, was quite satisfied with him. 
 
 " What you want when you are going to 
 take a journey with a horse," said he, "is 
 stayin power. Your fast trotter is all very 
 well for a mile or two, but if I have got to go 
 into the country in winter, give me a horse 
 like this." 
 
 I did not agree with him, but we jogged 
 along quite pleasantly until the afternoon 
 grew prematurely dark and it began to snow. 
 
 "Now," said I, giving the roan a useless 
 
40 STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 cut, " what we ought to have is a fast horse, 
 so that we may get there before there is a 
 storm." 
 
 "No, Doctor, you re wrong," said Uncle 
 Beamish. " What we want is a strong horse 
 that will take us there whether it storms or 
 not, and we have got him. And who cares 
 for a little snow that won t hurt nobody." 
 / I did not care for snow, and we turned up 
 our collars and went as merrily as people cai 
 go to the music of slowly jingling sleigh- 
 bells. 
 
 The snow began to fall rapidly, and, what 
 was worse, the wind blew directly in our 
 faces, so that sometimes my eyes were so 
 plastered up with snow-flakes that I could 
 scarcely see how to drive. I never knew 
 snow to fall with such violence ; the roadway 
 in front of us, as far as I could see it, was 
 soon one unbroken stretch of white from 
 fence to fence. 
 
 " This is the big storm of the season," said 
 Uncle Beamish, " and it is a good thing we 
 started in time, for if the wind keeps blowin , 
 this road will be pretty hard to travel in a 
 couple of hours." 
 
 In about half an hour the wind lulled a lit- 
 
H 
 
 o- 
 
STAYING POWER OF 1 SIB ROHAN 41 
 
 tie and I could get a better view of our sur 
 roundings, although I could not see very far 
 through the swiftly descending snow. 
 
 " I was tlrinkin ," said Uncle Beamish, 
 " that it might be a good idee, when we get 
 to Crocker s place, to stop a little, and let 
 you warm your fingers and nose. Crocker s 
 is ruther more than half-way to the pike." 
 
 " Oh, I do not want to stop anywhere," 
 I replied, quickly ; " I am all right." 
 
 Nothing was said for some time and then 
 Uncle Beamish remarked : 
 
 " I don t want to stop any more than you 
 do, but it does seem strange that we ain t 
 passed Crocker s yit ; we could hardly miss 
 his house, it is so close to the road. This 
 horse is slow, but I tell you one thing, Doc 
 tor, he s improvin ; he is goin better than he 
 did. That s the way with this kind ; it takes 
 them a good while to get warmed up, but they 
 keep on get bin fresher instead of tireder." 
 
 The big roan was going better, but still we 
 did not reach Crocker s, which disappointed 
 Uncle Beamish, who wanted to be assured 
 that the greater part of his journey was over. 
 
 "We must have passed it," he said, " when 
 the snow was so blindin ." 
 
42 STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 I did not wish to discourage him by saying 
 that I did not think we had yet reached 
 Crocker s, but I believed I had a much better 
 appreciation of our horse s slowness than he 
 had. 
 
 Again the wind began to blow in our faces, 
 and the snow fell faster, but the violence of 
 the storm seemed to encourage our horse, for 
 his pace was now greatly increased. 
 
 "That s the sort of beast to have," ex 
 claimed Uncle Beamish, spluttering as the 
 snow blew in his mouth ; " he is gettin his 
 spirits up just when they are most wanted. 
 We must have passed Crocker s a good while 
 ago, and it can t be long before we get to the 
 pike ; and it s time we was there, for it s 
 darkenin ." 
 
 On and on we went, but still we did not 
 reach the pike. We had lost a great deal 
 of time during the first part of the journey 
 and, although the horse was travelling so 
 much better now, his pace was below the 
 average of good roadsters. 
 
 "When we get to the pike," said Uncle 
 Beamish, "you can t miss it, for this road 
 doesn t cross it ; all you ve got to do is to 
 turn to the left, and in ten minutes you will 
 
STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 43 
 
 see the lights in my sister s house ; and I ll 
 tell you, Doctor, if you would like to stop 
 there for the night, she d be mighty glad to 
 have you." 
 
 " Much obliged," replied I, " but I shall go 
 on; it s not late yet, and I can reach the 
 Collingwoods in good time." 
 
 We now drove on in silence, our horse 
 actually arching his neck as he thumped 
 through the snow. Drifts had begun to form 
 across the road, but through these he bravely 
 plunged. 
 
 " Stayin power is what we want, Doctor," 
 exclaimed Uncle Beamish ; " where would 
 your fast trotter be in drifts like these, I d 
 like to know ? We got the right horse when 
 we got this one, but I wish we had been goin 
 this fast all the time." 
 
 It grew darker and darker, but at last we 
 saw not far in front of us a light. 
 
 " That beats me," said Uncle Beamish, " I 
 don t remember no other house so near the 
 road. It can t be we ain t passed Crocker s 
 yit. If we ain t got no furder than that, I m 
 in favor of stoppin . I m not afraid of a 
 snowstorm, but I ain t a fool nuther, and if 
 we haven t got furder than Crocker s it will 
 
44: STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 be foolhardy to try to push on through the 
 dark and these big drifts which will be gettin 
 bigger." 
 
 I did not give it up so easily. I greatly 
 wished to reach my destination that night. 
 But there were three wills in the party, and 
 one of them belonged to the horse. Before I 
 had any idea of such a thing the animal made 
 a sudden turn, too sudden for safety, passed 
 through a wide gateway, and after a few rapid 
 bounds which, to my surprise, I could not 
 restrain, he stopped suddenly. 
 
 " Hello ! " exclaimed Uncle Beamish, peer 
 ing forward, " here s a barn-door," and he im 
 mediately began to throw off the fur robe 
 that covered our knees. 
 
 " What are you going to do ? " I asked. 
 
 " I m goin to open the barn-door and let 
 the horse go in," said he, " he seems to want 
 to. I don t know whether this is Crocker s 
 barn or not ; it don t look like it, but I may be 
 mistaken. Anyway we will let the horse in 
 and then go to the house. This ain t no 
 night to be travellin any furder, Doctor, and 
 that is the long and the short of it. If the 
 people here ain t Crockers, I guess they are 
 Christians!" 
 
STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 45 
 
 I had not much time to consider the situa 
 tion, for while he had been speaking, Uncle 
 Beamish had waded through the snow, and 
 finding the barn-door unfastened had slid it 
 to one side. Instantly the horse entered the 
 dark barn, fortunately finding nothing in his 
 way. 
 
 "Now," said Uncle Beamish, "if we can 
 get somethin to tie him with, so that he don t 
 do no mischief, we can leave him here and go 
 up to the house." 
 
 I carried a pocket lantern, and quickly 
 lighted it. 
 
 " By George ! " said Uncle Beamish, as 
 I held up the lantern, " this ain t much of 
 a barn, it s no more than a wagon-house ; it 
 ain t Crocker s but no matter we ll go up 
 to the house. Here is a hitchin rope." 
 
 We fastened the horse, threw a robe over 
 him, shut the barn-door behind us, and 
 slowly made our way to the back of the 
 house in which there was a lighted window. 
 Mounting a little portico we reached a door, 
 and were about to knock, when it was opened 
 for us. A woman, plainly a servant, stood in 
 a kitchen, light and warm. 
 
 " Come right in," she said, " I heard youi 
 
46 STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 bells. Did you put your horse in the 
 barn?" 
 
 " Yes," said Uncle Beamish, " and now we 
 would like to see " 
 
 " All right," interrupted the woman, mov 
 ing toward an inner door. " Just wait here 
 for a minute ; I m going up to tell her." 
 
 "I don t know this place," said Uncle 
 Beamish, as we stood by the kitchen stove, 
 "but I expect it belongs to a widow woman." 
 
 " What makes you think that ? " I asked. 
 
 " Cause she said she was goin to tell her. 
 If there had been a man in the house she 
 would have gone to tell him. " 
 
 In a few moments the woman returned. 
 
 "She says you are to take off your wet 
 things and then go into the sitting-room. 
 She ll be down in a minute." 
 
 I looked at Uncle Beamish, thinking it was 
 his right to make explanations, but, giving 
 me a little wink, he began to take off his 
 overcoat. It was plain to perceive that Un 
 cle Beamish desired to assume that a place of 
 refuge would be offered us. 
 
 " It s an awful bad night," he said to the 
 woman, as he sat down to take off his Arctic 
 overshoes. 
 
STAYING POWER OF STR ROHAN 47 
 
 " It s all that," said she. " You may hang 
 your coats over them chairs ; it won t matter 
 if they do drip on this bare floor. Now, then, 
 come right into the sitting-room." 
 
 In spite of my disappointment I was glad 
 to be in a warm house, and hoped we might 
 be able to stay there. I could hear the storm 
 beating furiously against the window-panes 
 behind the drawn shades. There was a stove 
 in the sitting-room and a large lamp. 
 
 " Sit down," said the woman, " she will be 
 here in a minute." 
 
 " It strikes me," said Uncle Beamish, when 
 we were left alone, " that somebody is ex 
 pected in this house, most likely to spend 
 Christmas, and that we are mistook for tnem, 
 whoever they are." 
 
 " I have the same idea," I replied, "and we 
 must explain as soon as possible." 
 
 " Of course we will do that," said he, " but 
 I can tell you one thing : whoever is expected 
 ain t comin , for they can t get here. But 
 we ve got to stay here to-night, no matter 
 who comes or doesn t come, and we ve got to 
 be keerful in speaking to the woman of the 
 house. If she is one kind of a person we can 
 offer to pay for lodgin s and horse-feed ; but 
 
48 STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 if she is another kind, we must steer clear of 
 mentionin pay, for it will make her angry. 
 You had better leave the explainin business 
 to me." 
 
 I was about to reply that I was more than 
 willing to do so, when the door opened and a 
 person entered evidently the mistress of the 
 house. She was tall and thin, past middle 
 age, and plainly dressed. Her pale counte 
 nance wore a defiant look, and behind her 
 spectacles blazed a pair of dark eyes, which, 
 after an instant s survey of her visitors, were 
 fixed steadily upon me. She made but a step 
 into the room, and stood holding the door. 
 We both rose from our chairs. 
 
 " You can sit down again," she said sharply 
 to me, "I don t want you. Now, sir," she 
 continued, turning to Uncle Beamish, " please 
 come with me." 
 
 Uncle Beamish gave a glance of surprise at 
 me, but he immediately followed the old lady 
 out of the room, and the door was closed be 
 hind them. 
 
 For ten minutes, at least, I sat quietly wait 
 ing to see what would happen next; very 
 much surprised at the remark that bad been 
 made to me, and wondering at Uncle Beam- 
 
STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 49 
 
 ish s protracted absence. Suddenly he en 
 tered the room and closed the door. 
 
 " Here s a go," said he, slapping his leg, 
 but very gently; "we re mistook the worst 
 kind ; we re mistook for doctors." 
 
 " That is only half a mistake, said I. 
 " What is the matter, and what can I do ? " 
 
 " Nothin ," said he, quickly, " that is, 
 nothin your own self. Just the minute she 
 got me outside that door she began pitchin 
 into you. I suppose that s young Dr. 
 Glover, said she. I told her it was, and then 
 she went on to say, givin me no chance to ex 
 plain nothin , that she didn t want to have 
 anything to do with you, that she thought it 
 was a shame to turn people s houses into pau 
 pers hospitals for the purpose of teaching 
 medical students ; that she had heard of you, 
 and what she had heard she hadn t liked. All 
 this time she kept goin upstairs and I fol- 
 lerin her, and the fust thing I knowed she 
 opened a door and went into a room, and I 
 went in after her, and there, in a bed, was a 
 patient of some kind. I was tuk back dread 
 ful, for the state of the case came to me like a 
 flash. Your uncle had been sent for and I 
 was mistook for him. Now, what to say was 
 
50 STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 a puzzle to me, and I began to think pretty 
 fast. It was an awkward business to have to 
 explain things to that sharp-set old woman. 
 The fact is I didn t know how to begin, and 
 was a good deal afraid besides, but she didn t 
 give me no time for considerin . I think it s 
 her brain, said she, but perhaps you ll know 
 better. Catherine, uncover your head ! and 
 with that the patient turned over a little 
 and uncovered her head, which she had had 
 the sheet over. It was a young woman, and 
 she gave me a good look, but she didn t say 
 nothin . Now I ivas in a state of mind." 
 
 " Of course you must have been," I an 
 swered. " Why didn t you tell her that you 
 were not a doctor, but that I was. It would 
 have been easy enough to explain matters ; 
 she might have thought my uncle could not 
 come and he had sent me, and that you had 
 come along for company. The patient ought 
 to be attended to without delay." 
 
 " She s got to be attended to," said Uncle 
 Beamish, " or else there will be a row and 
 we ll have to travel storm or no storm. But 
 if you had heard what that old woman said 
 about young doctors, and you in particular, 
 you would know that you wasn t goin to have 
 
I HAD NOTHING TO DO BUT STEP UP AND FEEL HER PULSE." 
 
STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 51 
 
 anything to do with this case, at least you 
 wouldn t show in it. But I ve got no more time 
 for talkin ; I came down here on business. 
 When the old lady said Catherine, hold out 
 your hand ! and she held it out, I had nothin 
 to do but step up and feel her pulse. I know 
 how to do that, for I have done a lot of 
 nussin in my life, and then it seemed nat ral 
 to ask her to >ut out her tongue, and when 
 she did it I gave a look at it and nodded my 
 head. Do you think it is her brain ? said 
 the old woman, half whisperin . Can t say 
 anything about that yit, said I, M must go 
 downstairs and get the medicine-case. The 
 fust thing to do is to give her a draught, and 
 I will bring it up to her as soon as it is mixed. 
 You have got a pocket medicine-case with 
 you, haven t you? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," said I, " it is in my overcoat." 
 "I knowed it," said Uncle Beamish. "An 
 old doctor might go visitin without his medi 
 cine-case, but a young one would be sure to 
 take it along, no matter where he was goin . 
 Now you get it, please, quick." 
 
 " My notion is," said he, when I returned 
 from the kitchen with the case, "that you mix 
 somethiu that might soothe her a little, if she 
 
52 STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 has got anything the matter with her brain, 
 and which won t hurt her if she hasn t ; and 
 then, when I take it up to her, you tell me 
 what symptoms to look for. I can do it, I 
 have spent nights looking for symptoms. 
 Then, when I come down and report, you 
 might send her up somethin that would keep 
 her from gettiu any wuss till the doctor can 
 come in the mornin , for he ain t comin here 
 to-night." 
 
 " A very good plan," said I. " Now, what 
 can I give her ? What is the patient s age ? " 
 
 " Oh, her age don t matter much," said 
 Uncle Beamish, impatiently; "she may be 
 twenty, more or less, and any mild stuff will 
 do to begin with." 
 
 "I will give her some sweet spirits of 
 nitre," said I, taking out a little vial. " Will 
 you ask the servant for a glass of water and a 
 teaspoon ? " 
 
 " Now," said I, when I had quickly pre 
 pared the mixture, " she can have a tea- 
 spoonful of this and another in ten minutes, 
 and then we will see whether we will go on 
 with it or not." 
 
 " And what am I to look for ? " said he. 
 
 "In the first place," said I, producing a 
 
STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 53 
 
 clinical thermometer, "you must take her 
 temperature ; you know how to do that ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," said he, " I have done it hun 
 dreds of times ; she must hold it in her mouth 
 five minutes." 
 
 " Yes, and while you are waiting," I con 
 tinued, " you must try to find out, in the first 
 place, if there are, or have been, any signs of 
 delirium. You might ask the old lady, and 
 besides, you may be able to judge for your 
 self." 
 
 " I can do that," said he, " I have seen lots 
 of it." 
 
 " Then, again," said I, " you must observe 
 whether or not her pupils are dilated ; you 
 might also inquire whether there had been 
 any partial paralysis or numbness in any part 
 of the body ; these things must be looked for 
 in brain trouble. Then you can come down, 
 ostensibly to prepare another prescription, 
 and when you have reported, I have no doubt 
 I can give you something which will modify, 
 or I should say 
 
 " Hold her where she is till mornin ," said 
 Uncle Beamish ; " that s what you mean. 
 Be quick ; give me that thermometer and 
 the tumbler, and when I come down again, I 
 
54 STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 reckon you can fit her out Avith a prescription 
 just as good as anybody." 
 
 He hurried away and I sat down to con 
 sider. I was full of ambition, full of enthu 
 siasm for the practice of my profession. I 
 would have been willing to pay largely for 
 the privilege of undertaking an important 
 case, by myself, in which it would depend 
 upon me whether or not I should call in a 
 consulting brother. So far, in the cases I 
 had undertaken, a consulting brother had 
 always called himself in ; that is, I had prac 
 tised in hospitals or with my uncle. Perhaps 
 it might be found necessary, notwithstanding 
 all that had been said against me, that I 
 should go up to take charge of this case. I 
 wished I had not forgotten to ask the old 
 man how he had found the tongue and pulse. 
 
 In less than a quarter of an hour Uncle 
 Beamish returned. 
 
 "Well," said I, quickly, "what are the 
 symptoms ? " 
 
 "I ll give them to you," said he, taking his 
 seat. " I m not in such a hurry now, because 
 I told the old woman I would like to wait a 
 little and see how that fust medicine acted. 
 The patient spoke to me this time ; when I 
 
STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 55 
 
 took the thermometer out of her mouth she 
 says, You are comin up agin, Doctor? 
 speaking low and quickish, as if she wanted 
 nobody but me to hear." 
 
 " But how about the symptoms ? " said I, 
 impatiently. 
 
 " Well," he answered, " in the fust place 
 her temperature is ninety-eight and a half, 
 and that s about nat ral, I take it." 
 
 " Yes," I said, " but you didn t tell me 
 about her tongue and pulse." 
 
 "There wasn t nothin remarkable about 
 them," said he. 
 
 "All of which means," I remarked, "that 
 there is no fever ; but that is not at all a nec 
 essary accompaniment of brain derangements. 
 How about the dilatation of her pupils ? " 
 
 " There isn t none," said Uncle Beamish, 
 " they are rather squinched up if anything ; 
 and as to delirium, I couldn t see no signs of 
 it, and when I asked the old lady about the 
 numbness, she said she didn t believe there 
 had been any." 
 
 " No tendency to shiver, no disposition to 
 stretch ? " 
 
 " No," said the old man, " no chance for 
 quinine." 
 
56 STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 " The trouble is," said I, standing before 
 the stove and fixing my mind upon the case 
 with earnest intensity, " that there are so few 
 symptoms in brain derangement. If I could 
 only get hold of something tangible " 
 
 " If I was you," interrupted Uncle Beam 
 ish, "I wouldn t try to get hold of nothin . 
 I would just give her somethin to keep her 
 where she is till mornin . If you can do that, 
 I ll guarantee that any good doctor can take 
 her up and go on with her to-morrow." 
 
 Without noticing the implication contained 
 in these remarks, I continued my considera 
 tion of the case. 
 
 "If I could get a drop of her blood," 
 said I. 
 
 " No, no ! " exclaimed Uncle Beamish, 
 " I m not goin to do anything of that sort. 
 What in the name of common sense would 
 you do with her blood ? " 
 
 "I would examine it microscopically," I 
 said. " I might find out all I want to know." 
 
 Uncle Beamish did not sympathize with 
 this method of diagnosis. 
 
 " If you did find out there was the wrong 
 kind of germs, jou couldn t do anything with 
 them to-night, and it would just worry you," 
 
STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 57 
 
 said the old man. " I believe that nature will 
 git along fust rate without any help, at least 
 till mornin . But you ve got to give her some 
 medicine, not so much for her good as for our 
 good. If she s not treated we re bounced. 
 Can t you give her somethin that would do 
 anybody good, no matter what s the matter 
 with em ? If it was the spring of the year I 
 would say sarsaparilla. If you could mix her 
 up somethin and put it into some of them 
 benevolent microbes the doctors talk about, it 
 would be a good deed to do to anybody." 
 
 "The benign bacilli," said I; "unfortu 
 nately I haven t any of them with me." 
 
 " And if you had," he remarked, " I d be in 
 favor of givin em to the old woman. I take 
 it they would do her more good than anybody 
 else. Come along now, Doctor, it is about time 
 forme to go upstairs and see how the other 
 stuff acted not on the patient, I don t mean, 
 but on the old woman. The fact is, you 
 know, it s her we re dosin ." 
 
 " Not at all," said I, speaking a little se 
 verely, " I am trying to do my very best for 
 the patient, but I fear I cannot do it without 
 seeing her. Don t you think that if you told 
 the old lady how absolutely necessary " 
 
58 STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 11 Don t say anything more about that," ex 
 claimed Uncle Beamish. " I hoped I wouldn t 
 have to mention it, but she told me agin that 
 she would never have one of those unfledged 
 medical students, just out of the egg-shell, 
 experimentin on any of her family, and from 
 what she said about you in particular, I should 
 say she considered you as a medical chick 
 without even down on you." 
 
 " What can she know of me ? " I asked, in 
 dignantly. 
 
 " Give it up," said he, " can t guess it ; but 
 that ain t the pint the pint is, what are you 
 goiii to give her ? When I was young the 
 doctors used to say, when you are in doubt, 
 give calomel, as if you were playin trumps." 
 
 " Nonsense, nonsense," said I, my eyes 
 earnestly fixed upon my open medical case. 
 
 " I suppose a mustard plaster on the back 
 of her neck " 
 
 " Wouldn t do at all," I interrupted. " Wait 
 a minute now yes I know what I will do, 
 I will give her sodium bromide, ten grains." 
 
 " Which will hit if it s a deer and miss if 
 it s a calf, as the hunter said? " inquired 
 Uncle Beamish. 
 
 " It will certainly not injure her," said I, 
 
STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 59 
 
 " and I am quite sure it will be a positive ad 
 vantage. If there has been cerebral disturb 
 ance, which has subsided temporarily, it will 
 assist her to tide over the interim before its 
 recurrence." 
 
 " All right," said Uncle Beamish, " give it 
 to me and I ll be off ; it s time I showed up 
 agin." 
 
 He did not stay upstairs very long, this 
 time. 
 
 " No symptoms yit, but the patient looked 
 at me as if she wanted to say something but 
 she didn t git no chance, for the old lady 
 set herself down as if she was planted in a 
 garden-bed and intended to stay there ; but 
 the patient took the medicine as mild as a 
 lamb." 
 
 " That is very good," said I. " It may be 
 that she appreciates the seriousness of her 
 case better than we do." 
 
 " I should say she wants to git well," he 
 replied, " she looks like that sort of a person 
 to me. The old woman said she thought we 
 would have to stay awhile till the storm slack 
 ened, and I said, yes, indeed, and there wasn t 
 any chance of its slackenin to-night ; besides, 
 I wanted to see the patient before bedtime." 
 
60 STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 At this moment tlie door opened and the 
 servant woman came in. 
 
 " She says you are to have supper, and it will 
 be ready in about half an hour. One of you 
 had better go out and attend to your horse, 
 for the man is not coming back to-night." 
 
 " I will go to the barn," said I, rising. Un 
 cle Beamish also rose and said he would go 
 with me. 
 
 " I guess you can find some hay and oats," 
 said the woman, as we were putting on our 
 coats and overshoes in the kitchen, " and 
 here s a lantern. We don t keep no horse 
 now, but there s feed left." 
 
 As we pushed through the deep snow into 
 the barn, Uncle Beamish said : 
 
 " I ve been tryin my best to think where 
 we are, without askin any questions, and I m 
 dead beat ; I don t remember no such house 
 as this on the road." 
 
 " Perhaps we got off the road," said I. 
 
 " That may be, said he as we entered the 
 barn ; " it s a straight road from Warburton 
 to the pike near my sister s house, but there s 
 two other roads that branch off to the right 
 and strike the pike furder off to the east; 
 perhaps we got on one of them in all that 
 
STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 61 
 
 darkness and perplexing whiteness, when it 
 wasn t easy to see whether we were keepin a 
 straight road or not." 
 
 The horse neighed as we approached with 
 a light. 
 
 " I would not be at all surprised," said I, 
 " if this horse had once belonged here and 
 that was the reason why, as soon as he got a 
 chance, he turned and made straight for his 
 old home." 
 
 " That isn t unlikely," said Uncle Beamish, 
 " and that s the reason we did not pass Crock 
 er s. But here we are, wherever it is, and 
 here we ve got to stay till mornin ." 
 
 We found hay and oats and a pump in the 
 corner of the wagon-house, and, having put 
 the horse in the stall and made him as com 
 fortable as possible with some old blankets, 
 we returned to the house, bringing our valises 
 with us. 
 
 Our supper was served in the sitting-room 
 because there was a good fire there, and the 
 servant told us we would have to eat by our 
 selves, as she was not coming down. 
 
 "We ll excuse her," said Uncle Beamish, 
 with an alacrity of expression that might have 
 caused suspicion. 
 
62 STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 We had a good supper, and were then 
 shown a room on the first floor on the other 
 side of the hall, where the servant said we 
 were to sleep. 
 
 We sat by the stove awhile, waiting for 
 developments, but, as Uncle Beamish s bed 
 time was rapidly approaching, he sent word 
 to the sick- chamber that he was coining up 
 for his final visit. 
 
 This time he stayed upstairs but a few min 
 utes. 
 
 " She s fast asleep," said he, " and the old 
 woman says she ll call me if I m needed in 
 the night, and you ll have to jump up sharp 
 and overhaul that medicine case, if that hap 
 pens." 
 
 The next morning, and very early in the 
 morning, I was awaked by Uncle Beamish, 
 who stood at my side. 
 
 "Look here," said he, I ve been outside: 
 it s stopped snowin and it s clearin off. I ve 
 been to the barn and I ve fed the horse, and 
 I tell you what I m in favor of doin . There s 
 nobody up yit and I don t want to stay here 
 and make no explanations to that old woman. 
 I don t fancy gettin into rows on Christmas 
 mornin . We ve done all the good we can 
 
STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 63 
 
 here, and the best thing we can do now is to 
 get away before anybody is up and leave a 
 note sayin that we ve got to go on without 
 losing time, and that we will send another 
 doctor as soon as possible. My sister s doc 
 tor don t live fur away from her, and I know 
 she will be willin to send for him. Then our 
 duty will be done, and what the old woman 
 thinks of us won t makejio difference to no 
 body." 
 
 "That plan suits me," said I, rising; "I 
 don t want to stay here and, as I am not to 
 be allowed to see the patient, there is no 
 reason why I should stay. What we have 
 done will more than pay for our supper and 
 lodgings, so that our consciences are clear." 
 
 " But you must write a note," said Uncle 
 Beamish. " Got any paper ? 
 
 I tore a leaf from my note-book and went 
 to the window, where it was barely light 
 enough for me to see how to write. 
 
 "Make it short," said the old man, "I m 
 awful fidgetty to get off." 
 
 I made it very short, and then, valises in 
 hand, we quietly took our way to the kitchen. 
 
 " How this floor does creak ! " said Uncle 
 Beamish. " Get on your overcoat and shoes 
 
64: STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 as quick as you can, and we will leave the 
 note on this table." 
 
 I had just shaken myself into my overcoat 
 when Uncle Beamish gave a subdued excla 
 mation, and quickly turning, I saw entering 
 the kitchen, a female figure in winter wraps 
 and carrying a hand-bag. 
 
 1 By George! whispered the old man, 
 it s the patient!" 
 
 The figure advanced directly toward me. 
 
 "Oh, Dr. Glover!" she whispered, "I am 
 so glad to get down before you went away. 
 
 I stared in amazement at the speaker, but 
 even in the dim light I recognized her. This 
 was the human being whose expected presence 
 at the Collingwood mansion was taking me 
 there to spend Christmas. 
 
 " Kitty ! " I exclaimed " Miss Burroughs, 
 I mean what is the meaning of this ? 
 
 " Don t ask me for any meanings now, she 
 said, " I want you and your uncle to take me 
 to the Collingwoods. I suppose you are on your 
 way there, for they wrote you were coming 
 and, oh ! let us be quick, for I m afraid 
 Jane will come down and she will be sure to 
 wake up Aunty. I saw one of you go out to 
 the barn and knew you intended to leave, so 
 
STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 65 
 
 I got ready just as fast as I could. But I 
 must leave some word for Aunty." 
 
 " I have written a note," said I. " But are 
 you well enough to travel ? " 
 
 " Just let me add a line to it," said she ; "I 
 am as well as ever I was." 
 
 I gave her a pencil and she hurriedly wrote 
 something on the paper which I had left on 
 the kitchen- table. Then, quickly glancing 
 around, she picked up a large carving-fork 
 and, sticking it through the paper into the 
 soft wood of the table, she left it standing 
 there. 
 
 "Now it won t blow away when we open 
 the door," she whispered. " Come on." 
 
 " You cannot go out to the barn," I said, 
 "we will bring up the sleigh." 
 
 "Oh, no, no, no/ she answered, "I must 
 not wait here. If I once get out of the house 
 I shall feel safe. Of course I shall go, any 
 way, but I don t want any quarrelling on this 
 Christmas morning." 
 
 "I m with you there," said Uncle Beamish, 
 approvingly. " Doctor, we can take her to the 
 barn without her touching the snow. Let her 
 sit in this arm-chair, and we can carry her 
 between us. She s no weight." 
 
66 STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 In half a minute the kitchen door was 
 softly closed behind us and we were carrying 
 Miss Burroughs to the barn. My soul was in 
 a wild tumult ; dozens of questions were on 
 my tongue, but I had no chance to ask any of 
 them. 
 
 Uncle Beamish and I returned to the porch 
 for the valises, and then, closing the back 
 door, we rapidly began to make preparations 
 for leaving. 
 
 "I suppose," said Uncle Beamish, as we 
 went into the stable, leaving Miss Burroughs 
 in the wagon-house, "that this business is 
 all right ? You seem to know the young 
 woman, and she is of age to act for herself." 
 
 " Whatever she wants to do," I answered, 
 " is perfectly right ; you may trust to that. I 
 do not understand the matter any more than 
 you do, but I know she is expected at the 
 Collingwoods and wants to go there." 
 
 " Yery good," said Uncle Beamish, " we ll 
 get away fust and ask explanations after 
 ward." 
 
 " Doctor Glover," said Miss Burroughs as 
 we led the horse into the wagon-house, "don t 
 put the bells on him ; stuff them gently under 
 the seat, as softly as you can. But how are 
 
STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 67 
 
 we all to go away ? I have been looking at 
 that sleigh, and it is intended only for two." 
 
 "It s rather late to think of that, Miss," 
 said Uncle Beamish, "but there s one thing 
 that s certain. We re both very polite to 
 ladies, but neither of us is willin to be left 
 behind on this trip. But it s a good- sized 
 sleigh and we ll all pack in, well enough. You 
 and me can sit on the back seat, and the Doc 
 tor can stand up in front of us and drive. In 
 old times it was considered the right thing 
 for the driver of the sleigh to stand up and 
 do his drivin ." 
 
 The baggage was carefully stowed away, 
 and, after a look around the dimly lighted 
 wagon-house, Miss Burroughs and Uncle 
 Beamish got into the sleigh and I tucked the 
 big fur-robe around them. 
 
 " I hate to make a journey before break 
 fast," said Uncle Beamish, as I was doing 
 this, "especially on Christmas mornin , but 
 somehow or other there seems to be some- 
 thin jolly about this business, and we won t 
 have to wait so long for breakfast nuther. It 
 can t be far from my sister s, and we ll all 
 stop there and have breakfast ; then you two 
 can leave me and go on. She ll be as glad to 
 
68 STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 see any friends of mine as if they were her 
 own. And she ll be pretty sure, on a mornin 
 like this, to have buckwheat cakes and sau 
 sages." 
 
 Miss Burroughs looked at the old man with 
 a puzzled air, but she asked him no questions. 
 
 " How are you going to keep yourself warm, 
 Dr. Glover ? " she said. 
 
 " Oh, this long ulster will be enough for 
 me," I replied, " and as I shall stand up, I 
 could not use a robe if we had another." 
 
 In fact, the thought of being with Miss 
 Burroughs and the anticipation of a sleigh- 
 ride alone with her, after we had left Uncle 
 Beamish with his sister, had put me into 
 such a glow that I scarcely knew it was cold 
 weather. 
 
 " You d better be keerful, Doctor," said 
 Uncle Beamish ; " you don t want to git rheu 
 matism in your jints on this Christmas morn 
 in . Here s this horse-blanket that we are 
 settin on ; we don t need it and you d better 
 wrap it round you, after you get in, to keep 
 your legs warm." 
 
 " Oh, do ! " said Miss Burroughs, " it may 
 look funny, but we will not meet anybody so 
 early as this." 
 
STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 69 
 
 "All right!" said I, "and now we are 
 ready to start." 
 
 I slid back the barn-door and then led the 
 horse outside. Closing the door, and mak 
 ing as little noise as possible in doing it, I 
 got into the sleigh, finding plenty of room 
 to stand up in front of my companions. 
 Now I wrapped the horse-blanket about the 
 lower part of my body, and, as I had no belt 
 with which to secure it, Miss Burroughs kind 
 ly offered to fasten it round my waist by 
 means of a long pin which she took from her 
 hat. It is impossible to describe the exhila 
 ration that pervaded me as she performed 
 this kindly office. After thanking her warm 
 ly, I took the reins and we started. 
 
 "It is so lucky," whispered Miss Bur 
 roughs, " that I happened to think about the 
 bells. We don t make any noise at all." 
 
 This was true ; the slowly uplifted hoofs of 
 the horse descended quietly into the soft 
 snow, and the sleigh-runners slipped along 
 without a sound. 
 
 " Drive straight for the gate, Doctor," whis 
 pered Uncle Beamish, " it don t matter noth- 
 in, about goin over flower-beds and grass- 
 plats in such weather." 
 
70 STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 I followed liis advice, for no roadway could 
 be seen. But we had gone but a short dis 
 tance when the horse suddenly stopped. 
 
 " What s the matter ? " asked Miss Bur 
 roughs, in a low voice. " Is it too deep for 
 him ? " 
 
 " We re in a drift," said Uncle Beamish. 
 " But it s not too deep ; make him go ahead, 
 Doctor." 
 
 I clicked gently and tapped the horse with 
 the whip, but he did not move. 
 
 " What a dreadful thing," whispered Miss 
 Burroughs, leaning forward, " for him to stop 
 so near the house. Doctor Glover, what does 
 this mean ? " and, as she spoke, she half rose 
 behind me. " Where did Sir Rohan come 
 from ? " 
 
 " Who s he ? " asked Uncle Beamish, quick- 
 
 iy- 
 
 " That horse," she answered. " That s my 
 aunt s horse ; she sold him a few days ago." 
 
 " By George ! " ejaculated Uncle Beamish, 
 unconsciously raising his voice a little, " Wil 
 son bought him, and his bringiii us here is 
 as plain as a-b-c. And now he don t want to 
 leave home." 
 
 "But he has got to do it," said I, jerking 
 
STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 71 
 
 the horse s head to one side and giving him a 
 cut with the whip. 
 
 "Don t whip him," whispered Miss Bur 
 roughs, " it always makes him more stubborn. 
 How glad I am I thought of the bells ! The 
 only way to get him to go is to mollify him." 
 
 "But how is that to be done? "I asked, 
 anxiously. 
 
 " You must give him sugar and pat his 
 neck. If I had some sugar and could get 
 out 
 
 " But you haven t it, and you can t get out," 
 said Uncle Beamish. " Try him again, Doc 
 tor ! " 
 
 I jerked the reins impatiently. " Go 
 along ! " said I, but he did not go along. 
 
 " Haven t you got somethin in your medi 
 cine-case you could mollify him with ? " said 
 Uncle Beamish. Somethin sweet that he 
 might like ? " 
 
 For an instant I caught at this absurd sug 
 gestion, and my mind ran over the contents 
 of my little bottles. If I had known his 
 character, some sodium bromide in his morn 
 ing feed might, by this time, have mollified 
 his obstinacy. 
 
 " If I could be free of this blanket," said I, 
 
72 STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 fumbling at the pin behind me, " I would get 
 out and lead him into the road." 
 
 " You could not do it," said Miss Bur 
 roughs. " You might pull his head off, but 
 he wouldn t move ; I have seen him tried." 
 
 At this moment a window-sash in the sec 
 ond story of the house was raised, and there, 
 not thirty feet from us, stood an elderly 
 female, wrapped in a gray shawl, with pierc 
 ing eyes shining through great spectacles. 
 
 " You seem to be stuck," said she, sarcasti 
 cally. " You are worse stuck than the fork 
 was in my kitchen-table." 
 
 We made no answer. I do not know how 
 Miss Burroughs looked or felt, or what was 
 the appearance of Uncle Beamish, but I know 
 I must have been very red in the face. I 
 gave the horse a powerful crack and shouted 
 to him to go on ; there was no need for low 
 speaking now. 
 
 " You needn t be cruel to dumb animals," 
 said the old lady, " and you can t budge him. 
 He never did like snow, especially in going 
 away from home. You cut a powerful queer 
 figure, young man, with that horse-blanket 
 around you. You don t look much like a 
 practising physician." 
 
YOU CUT A POWERFUL QUEER FIGURE, YOUNG MAN." 
 
STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 73 
 
 "Miss Burroughs," I exclaimed, "please 
 take that pin out of this blanket. If I can 
 get at his head I know I can pull him around 
 and make him go." 
 
 But she did not seem to hear me. " Aunty," 
 she cried, " it s a shame to stand there and 
 make fun of us. We have got a perfect right 
 to go away if we want to, and we ought not to 
 be laughed at." 
 
 The old lady paid no attention to this re 
 mark. 
 
 " And there s that false doctor," she said ; 
 " I wonder how he feels just now." 
 
 " False doctor ! " exclaimed Miss Burroughs, 
 " I don t understand." 
 
 " Young lady," said Uncle Beamish, " I m 
 no false doctor. I intended to tell you all 
 about it as soon as I got a chance, but I 
 haven t had one. And, old lady, I d like you 
 to know that I don t say I m a doctor, but I 
 do say I m a nuss, and a good nuss, and you 
 can t deny it." 
 
 To this challenge the figure at the window 
 made no answer. 
 
 " Catherine," said she, " I can t stand here 
 and take cold, but I just want to know one 
 thing. Have you positively made up your 
 
74 STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 mind to marry tliat young doctor in the horse- 
 blanket ? " 
 
 This question fell like a bomb-shell into 
 the middle of the stationary sleigh. 
 
 I had never asked Kitty to marry me. I 
 loved her with all my heart and soul, and I 
 hoped, almost believed, that she loved me. It 
 had been my intention, when we should be 
 left together in the sleigh this morning, after 
 dropping Uncle Beamish at his sister s house, 
 to ask her to marry me. 
 
 The old woman s question pierced me as if 
 it had been a flash of lightning, coming 
 through the frosty air of a winter morning. I 
 dropped the useless reins and turned. Kitty s 
 face was ablaze ; she made a movement as if 
 she was about to jump out of the sleigh and 
 
 11 Oh, Kitty ! " said I, bending down toward 
 her, " tell her yes, I beg, I entreat, I implore 
 you to tell her yes ! Oh, Kitty ! if you don t 
 say yes I shall never know another happy 
 day." 
 
 For one moment Kitty looked up into my 
 face, and then said she : 
 
 "It is my positive intention to marry 
 him." 
 
STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 75 
 
 With the agility of a youth, Uncle Beamish 
 threw the robe from him and sprang out into 
 the deep snow ; then turning toward us, he 
 took off his hat. 
 
 "By George!" said he, "you re a pair 
 of trumps. I never did see any human 
 bein s step up to the mark more prompt. 
 Madam," he cried, addressing the old lady, 
 "you ought to be the proudest woman in this 
 county at seein such a thing as this happen 
 under your window of a Christmas mornin . 
 And now the best thing that you can do is 
 to invite us all in to have breakfast." 
 
 "You ll have to come in," said she, "or 
 else stay out there and freeze to death, for 
 that horse isn t going to take you away. And 
 if my niece really intends to marry the young 
 man and has gone so far as to start to run 
 away with him and with a false doctor of 
 course I ve got no more to say about it, and 
 you can come in and have breakfast ; " and 
 with that she shut down the window. 
 
 " That s talkin ," said Uncle Beamish. Sit 
 still, Doctor, and I ll lead him around to the 
 back door. I guess he ll move quick enough 
 when you want him to turn back." 
 
 Without the slightest objection Sir Eohan 
 
76 STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 permitted himself to be turned back and led 
 up to the kitchen porch. 
 
 " Now you two sparklin angels get out," 
 said Uncle Beamish, "and go in. I ll attend 
 to the horse." 
 
 Jane, with a broad grin on her face, opened 
 the kitchen door. 
 
 " Merry Christmas to you both ! " said she. 
 
 " Merry Christmas ! " we cried, and each of 
 us shook her by the hand. 
 
 "Go in the sitting-room and get warm," 
 said Jane, " She ll be down pretty soon." 
 
 I do not know how long we were together 
 in that sitting-room. We had thousands of 
 things to say, and we said most of them. 
 Among other things we managed to get in 
 some explanations of the occurrences of the 
 previous night. Kitty told her tale briefly. 
 She and her aunt, to whom she was making 
 a visit, and who wanted her to make her house 
 her home, had had a quarrel two days before. 
 Kitty was wild to go to the Collingwoods, and 
 the old lady, who, for some reason, hated the 
 family, was determined she should not go. 
 But Kitty was immovable and never gave up 
 until she found that her aunt had gone so far 
 as to dispose of her horse, thus making it im- 
 
STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 7? 
 
 possible to travel in such weather, there being 
 no public conveyances passing the house. 
 Kitty was an orphan, and had a guardian who 
 would have come to her aid, but she could not 
 write to him in time, and, in utter despair, she 
 went to bed. She would not eat or drink, she 
 would not speak, and she covered up her 
 head. 
 
 "After a day and a night," said Kitty, 
 " Aunty got dreadfully frightened and thought 
 something was the matter with my brain ; her 
 family are awfully anxious about their brains. 
 I knew she had sent for the doctor, and I was 
 glad of it, for I thought he would help me. 
 I must say I was surprised when I first saw 
 that Mr. Beamish, for I thought he was Doc 
 tor Morris. Now tell rne about your coming 
 here." 
 
 "And so," she said, when I had finished, 
 "you had no idea that you were prescrib 
 ing for me ! Please do tell me what were 
 those medicines you sent up to me and which 
 I took like a truly good girl." 
 
 " I didn t know it at the time," said I, " but 
 I sent you sixty drops of the deepest, strong 
 est love in a glass of water, and ten grains of 
 perfect adoration." 
 
78 STAYING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 " Nonsense ! " said Kitty, with a blush, and 
 at that moment Uncle Beamish knocked at 
 the door. 
 
 " I thought I d just step in and tell you," 
 said he, " that breakfast will be comin along 
 in a minute. I found they were going to 
 have buckwheat cakes, anyway, and I pre 
 vailed on Jane to put sausages in the bill of 
 fare. Merry Christmas to you both ! I 
 would like to say more, but here comes the 
 old lady and Jane." 
 
 The breakfast was a strange meal, but a 
 very happy one. The old lady was very dig 
 nified ; she made no allusion to Christmas or 
 to what had happened, but talked to Uncle 
 Beamish about people in Warburton. 
 
 I have a practical mind and, in spite of the 
 present joy, I could not help feeling a little 
 anxiety about what was to be done when 
 breakfast was over ; but just as we were about 
 to rise from the table we were all startled by 
 a great jingle of sleigh-bells outside. The 
 old lady arose and stepped to the window. 
 
 " There ! " said she, turning toward us. 
 " Here s a pretty kettle of fish ! There s a 
 two-horse sleigh outside with a man driving 
 and a gentleman in the back seat who I am 
 
JOHN MUST HAVE DRIVEN BACKWARD AND FORWARD 
 FOR HALF AN HOUR. 
 
STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 79 
 
 sure is Doctor Morris, and lie has come all 
 the way on this bitter cold morning to see 
 the patient I sent for him to come to. Now, 
 who is going to tell him he has come on a 
 fool s errand ? " 
 
 " Fool s errand ! " I cried. " Everyone of 
 you wait in here and I ll go out and tell him." 
 
 When I dashed out of doors and stood by 
 the side of my uncle s sleigh, he was truly an 
 amazed man. 
 
 " I will get in, Uncle," said I, "and if you 
 will let John drive the horses slowly around 
 the yard, I will tell you how I happen to be 
 here." 
 
 The story was a much longer one than I 
 expected it to be, and John must have driven 
 those horses backward and forward for half 
 an hour. 
 
 "Well," said my uncle at last, "I never saw 
 your Kitty, but I knew her father and her 
 mother, and I will go in and take a look at 
 her. If I like her, I will take you all on to 
 the Collingwoods and drop Uncle Beamish 
 at his sister s house." 
 
 " I ll tell you what it is, young Doctor," 
 said Uncle Beamish at parting, "you ought 
 
80 STATING POWER OF SIR ROHAN 
 
 to buy that big roan horse ; lie has been a 
 regular guardian angel to us this Christmas." 
 
 "Oh, that would never do at all," cried 
 Kitty. "His patients would all die before 
 he got there." 
 
 " That is, if they had anything the matter 
 with them," added my uncle. 
 
THE WIDOW S CRUISE 
 
THE WIDOW S CRUISE 
 
 THE widow Ducket lived in a small vil 
 lage about ten miles from the New Jer 
 sey sea coast. In this village she was born, 
 here she had married and buried her hus 
 band, and here she expected somebody to 
 bury her, but sho was in ^o hurry for 
 for sh<3 JiJid scarcely vo<iC,MPci Trnd/jlp, 
 She was a tall 
 
 in her ooinpobiti Aii, an- 1 * full -of-iKjfcivily, both 
 muscular and mental. 
 
 &he rose at six o clock in the morning, 
 cooked breakfast, set the tablo, washed the 
 dishes when the meal was over, milked, 
 churned, swept, washed, ironed, worked in 
 her little garden, attended to the flowers it 
 the front yard, and in the afternoon knitted 
 and quilted and sewed, ami after tea she 
 either went to see her neighbors or had them 
 come to see her. A^h^j^Ji-w^-r^vlly dark- 
 she lighted the lamp in her parlor- ttiul read 
 hour, and if it happened tu.bft one. .of 
 
84: THE WIDOW S CfiUISE 
 
 Miss Mary Wilkins books that she read -she 
 expressed doubts as to the realism of tli& 
 characters therein described. 
 
 Thco- dcnbtc rii? cipi ^ t" Dorcas 
 Networthv. who wa^ a feiuall, plui i| v, oinan, 
 with f soleK:ii ii.je, >vhx> ii a d lived with the 
 widow for many years and.who had become 
 her devoted disciple. Whatever the widow 
 did that also did Dorcas not so well, for 
 her heart told her she couicl never expect to 
 do that, but with a yearning anxiety to do 
 everything as well as she could. She rose at 
 five minutes past six, and in a subsidiary 
 way she helped to get the breakfast, to eat it, 
 to wash up the dishes, to work in the garden, 
 to quilt, to sew, to visit and receive, and no 
 one could have tried harder than she did to 
 keep awake when the widow read aloud in 
 the evening. 
 
 All these things happened every day in the 
 summer time, but in the winter the widow 
 and Dorcas cleared the snow from their little 
 front path instead of attending to the flowers, 
 and in the evening they lighted a fire as well 
 as a lamp in the parlor. 
 
 Sometimes, however, something different 
 happened, but this was not often, only a few 
 
THE WIDOW S CRUISE 85 
 
 times in the year. One of the different thing? 
 occurred when Mrs. Ducket and Dorcas were 
 sitting on their little front porch one summer 
 afternoo^ one on the little bench on one side 
 of the door and the other on the little bench 
 on the other side of the door, each waiting, 
 until she should hear the clock strike five, to 
 prepare ic i. 3.ii it was not yet a quarter to 
 five when a one-horse wagon containing four 
 men came slowly down the street. Dorcas 
 first saw the wagon, and she instantly stopped 
 knitting. 
 
 " Mercy on me ! " she exclaimed. " Who 
 ever those people are they are strangers here 
 and they don t know where to stop, for they 
 first go to one side of the street and then to 
 the other." 
 
 The widow looked around sharply. 
 "Humph!" ;siiid she. "Those men are 
 sailor- men. You might see that in a twink 
 ling of an eye. Sailor-men always drive that 
 way because that is the way th^v sail ships. 
 Thfij" rst tack in one direction and then in 
 
 the sea ? " re 
 marked- Boreas, i or ---abou t the -three hundredth 
 
86 THE WIDOW S CRUISE 
 
 - widow-, for 
 fiftieth time, -for 
 there had been occasions when. she. thought 
 Dorcas put tiiis question inopportunely. 
 "-fie hated it, and lie was drowned in-4% 
 
 , wliicli I 
 
 ~>..4id~-a^4^U^ Da you xeally believe 
 tere ? " 
 
 ~ Upon my word I do ! - said Dorcas r ^uid 
 lier opinion was correct. 
 
 The wagon drew up in front of Mrs. Duck 
 et s little white house, and the two women 
 sat rigidly, their hands in their laps, staring 
 at the man who drove. 
 
 This was an elderly personage with whitish 
 hair, and under his chin a thin whitish 
 beard, which waved in the gentle breeze and 
 gave Dorcas the idea that his head was filled 
 with hair which was leaking out from below. 
 
 "Is this the widow Ducket s?" inquired 
 this elderly man, in a strong, penetrating 
 voice. 
 
 " That s my name, said the widow, and lay 
 ing her knitting on t;ie bench beside her sh-o 
 .vent to the gate. Dorcas also laid her knit 
 ting on the bench beside her and went to the 
 irate. 
 
TEE WIDOW S CRUISE 87 
 
 " I was told," said the elderly man, " at a 
 house we touche* I at about a quarter of a mile 
 back, that the widow Ducket s was the only 
 house in this village where there was any 
 chance of me and my mates getting a meal. 
 We are four sailors and we are making from 
 the bay over to Cuppertown, and that s eight 
 miles ahead yet and we are all pretty sharp 
 set for something to eat." 
 
 " This is the place," said the widow, " and 
 I do give meals if there is enough in the 
 house and everything comes handy." 
 
 "Does everj- thing come handy to-day ?" 
 said he. 
 
 " It does," said she, " and you can hitch 
 your horse and come in, Unt..T Jxaveii t got 
 ~aii v tii iii * for him." 
 
 s all right," said- the man*, "we 
 brought along stores for him, so we ll just 
 -make fast and then come in." 
 
 The two women hurried into the house in 
 a state of bustling preparation, for the fur 
 nishing of this meal meant one dollar in cash. 
 
 The four mariners, all elderly men, de 
 scended from, the wagon, each one scrambling 
 with alacrity over a different wheel. 
 
 AT box of broken ship-biscuit was -bright 
 
88 THE WIDOW S CRUISE 
 
 out and put on the ground in front of tin 
 horse, who immediately set himself to eating 
 with ro 
 
 Tea was a little late that day, because-there 
 were six persons to provide for instead-of 
 two, but it was a good meal, and after the 
 four seamen had washed their hands and 
 faces at the pump in the back yard and load 
 wiped them on two towels furnished fey 
 Dorcas, they all came in and sat down. Mrs. 
 Ducket seated herself at the head of the 
 table with the dignity proper to the mistress 
 of the house, and Dorcas seated herself at 
 the other end with the dignity proper to the 
 disciple of the mistress. No service was 
 necessary, for everything that was- to be 
 eaten or rK unk was on the table. 
 
 When each of the elderly mariners had 
 had as much iiread and butter, quickly-baked 
 soda biscuit, dried beef, cold ham, cold 
 tongue and . preserved fruit of every variety 
 kuQim, as his storage capacity would permit, 
 the mariner in command, Captain Bird, 
 pushed back his chair, thereupon the other 
 mariners pushed back their chairs. 
 
 "Madam, - said O.-TI >ta,i 11 Bird, t: we hnvo all 
 made a good meal, -which didn t need to be 
 
THE WIDOW S CRUISE 89 
 
 no better nor more of it, and we re satisfied, 
 but tliat liorse out there has not had time to 
 rest himself enough to go the eight miles 
 that lies ahead of us, so if it s all the same 
 to you .-Pul this ge-xl lady, we d like to sit on 
 that front porch awhile and smoke our pipes. 
 I woo a looking-bt--4kttt-pef^iHwben I -came 
 iivaiid- 1 bethought to myself what a rare 
 goad, jplaca it was to smoke a .pipe in." 
 
 "There s pipes been smoked there," said 
 the-wklow rising, " and it can be done again. 
 -Inside the house I don t allow tobacco, but 
 on the porch neither of us minds. 
 
 So the four Captains betook themselves to 
 the porch, two of them seating themselves on 
 the little bench on one side of the door and 
 two of them on the little bench on the other 
 side of the door, and lighted their pipes. 
 
 .Shall we clear off the table and wash up 
 fiie dishes," said Dorcas, " or wait until they 
 are gone ? " 
 
 " AVo will wait until they are gone," sakl 
 ike-widow, " for now that they are here we 
 s well have a bit of a chat with them. 
 
 When a sailor-man lights his pipe he is gen- 
 emlly willing to talk, but when he is eatin 
 you can t get a word out of him." 
 
90 THE WIDOW S CRUISE 
 
 Without thinking it necessary to ask per- 
 missioji r -Q~tlie4iGuse belonged to her, the 
 widow Ducket brought a chair and put it in 
 the-JialL-close~.to~ the -open front door, and 
 Dorcas brought another chair and seated 
 herself by the side of the widow. 
 
 " Do all you sailor-men belong down there 
 at the bay ? " asked Mrs. Ducket, and thus 
 the conversation began, and in a few minutes 
 it had reached a point at which Captain Bird 
 thought it proper to say that a great many 
 strange things happen to seamen sailing on 
 the sea which lands-people never dream of. 
 
 " Such as anything in particular ?" asked 
 the widow, at which remark Dorcas clasped 
 her hands in expectancy. 
 
 At this question each of the mariners took- 
 his pipe from liis mouth and gazed upon the 
 floor in thought. 
 
 " There s a good many strange things hap 
 pened to me and my mates at sea. Would 
 you and that other lady like to hear any of 
 them ? " asked Captain Bird. 
 
 " We would like to hear them if they are 
 true," said the widow. 
 
 " There s nothing happened to me and my 
 mates that isn t true, said Captain Bird, 
 
THE WIDOW S CRUISE 91 
 
 " and here is something that once happened 
 to me : I was on a whaling v yage when a 
 big sperm whale, just a& *irad~a^aHiery bull, 
 
 came at us,(jiead ouL and struck the ship 
 uch 
 
 with such tremendous force that 
 his head crashed right through her timbers 
 and he went nearly half his length into her 
 hull. The hold was mostly filled with empty 
 barrels, for we was just beginning our v yage, 
 and when he had made kindling wood of 
 these, there was room enough for him. "We 
 all expected that it wouldn t take five minutes 
 for the vessel to fill and go to the bottom, 
 and we made ready to take to the boats, but 
 it turned out we didn t need to take to no 
 boats, for as fast as the water rushed into 
 the hold of the ship that whale drank it and 
 squirted it up through the two blow holes in 
 the top of his head, and as there was an open 
 hatchway just over his head the water all 
 went into the sea again, and that whale kept 
 working day and night pumping the water 
 out until we beached the vessel on the island 
 of Trinidad the whale helping us wonderful 
 on our way over by the powerful working of 
 his tail, which, being outside in the water, 
 acted like a propeller. I don t believe any- 
 
92 THE WIDOW S CRUISE 
 
 thing stranger than that everJiappened to a 
 whaling ship." 
 
 "No," said the widow, "I don t believe 
 anything ever did." 
 
 Captain Bird now looked at Captain San 
 derson, and the latter took his pipe out of his 
 mouth and said that in all his sailing around 
 the world he had never known anything 
 queerer than what happened to a big steam 
 ship he chanced to be on, which ran into an 
 island in a fog. Everybody on board thought 
 the ship was wrecked, but it had twin screws 
 and was going at such a tremendous speed 
 that it turned the island entirely upside down 
 and sailed over it, and he had heard tell that 
 even now people sailing over the spot could 
 look down into the water and see the roots 
 of the trees and the cellars of the houses. 
 
 Captain Sanderson now put his pipe back 
 into his mouth and Captain Burress took out 
 his pipo. 
 
 " I was once in an obelisk ship," said he, 
 " that used to trade regular between Egypt 
 and New York carrying obelisks. We had a 
 big obelisk on board. The way they ship 
 obelisks is to make a hole in the stern of the 
 ship and run the obelisk in, p inted end fore- 
 
THE WIDOW DUCKET SAID NOTHING. 
 
94 THE WIDOW S CRUISE 
 
 touched the bottom it just stood there, and as 
 it was such a big obelisk there was about five 
 and a half feet of it stuck out of the water. 
 The man who was knocked overboard he just 
 swum for that obelisk and he climbed up the 
 hiryglyphics. It was a mighty fine obelisk 
 and the Egyptians had cut their hiryglyphics 
 good and deep so that the man could get 
 hand and foot hold. And when we got to 
 him and took him off he was sitting high and 
 dry on the p inted end of that obelisk. It was 
 a great pity about the obelisk, for it was a 
 good obelisk, but as I never heard the com 
 pany tried to raise it I expect it is standing 
 there yet." 
 
 Captain Burress now put his pipe back into 
 his mouth and looked at Captain Jenkinson, 
 who removed his pipe and said : 
 
 " The queerest thing that ever happened to 
 me was about a shark. We was off the Banks 
 and the time of year was July, and the ice was 
 coming down and we got in among a lot of it. 
 Not far away, off our weather bow, there was 
 a little iceberg which had such a queerness 
 about it that the Captain nnd three men went 
 in a boat to look at it. The ice was mighty 
 clear ice and you could see almost through it, 
 
TEE WIDOW S CRUISE 95 
 
 and right inside of it, not more than three 
 feet above the water line, and about two feet, 
 or maybe twenty inches, inside the ice, was a 
 whopping big shark, about fourteen feet long 
 a regular man-eater frozen in there hard 
 and fast. Bless my soul, said the Captain, 
 this is a wonderful curiosity and I m going 
 to git him out. Just then one of the men 
 said he saw that shark wink, but the Captain 
 wouldn t believe him, for he said that shark 
 was frozen stiff and hard and couldn t wink. 
 You see the Captain had his own idees about 
 things, and he knew that whales was warm 
 blooded and would freeze if they was shut up 
 in ice, but he forgot that sharks was not 
 whales and that they re cold-blooded just like 
 toads. And there is toads that has been shut 
 up in rocks for thousands of years, and they 
 stayed alive, no matter how cold the place 
 was, because they was cold-blooded, and when 
 the rocks was split out hopped the frog. But 
 as I said before, the Captain forgot sharks 
 was cold-blooded and he determined to git 
 that one out. 
 
 " Now you both know, being housekeepers, 
 that if you take a needle and drive it into a 
 hunk of ice you can split it. The Captain 
 
96 THE WIDOW S CRUISE 
 
 had a sail-needle with him and so he drove it 
 into the iceberg right alongside of the shark 
 and split it. Now the minute he did it he 
 knew that the man was right when he said 
 he saw the shark wink, for it flopped out of 
 that iceberg quicker nor a flash of light 
 ning. 
 
 " What a happy fish he must have been ! " 
 ejaculated Dorcas, forgetful of precedent, so 
 great was her emotion. 
 
 " Yes," said Captain Jenkinson, " it was a 
 happy fish enough, but it wasn t a happy 
 Captain. You see that shark hadn t had any 
 thing to eat, perhaps for a thousand years, 
 until the Captain came along with his sail- 
 needle." 
 
 " Surely you sailor men do see strange 
 things," now said the widow, " and the strang 
 est thing about them is that they are true." 
 
 " Yes, indeed," said Dorcas, " that is the 
 most wonderful thing." 
 
 " You wouldn t suppose," said the widow 
 Ducket, glancing from one bench of mariners 
 to the other, " that I have a sea-story to tell, 
 but I have, and if you like I will tell it to 
 you." 
 
 Captain Bird looked up a little surprised. 
 
THE WIDOW S CRUISE 97 
 
 " We would like to hear it, indeed we would, 
 madam," said lie. 
 
 " Aye, aye ! " said Captain Burress, and the 
 two other mariners nodded. 
 
 " It was a good while ago," she said, " when 
 I was living on the shore near the head of 
 the bay, that my husband was away and I 
 was left alone in the house. One mornin 
 my sister-in-law, who lived on the other side 
 of the bay, sent me word by a boy on a horse 
 that she hadn t any oil in the house to fill the 
 lamp that she always put in the window to 
 light her husband home, who was a fisher 
 man, sJTi.fi. if I would send her some by the boy 
 she would pay me back as soon as they 
 bought oil. The boy said he would stop on 
 his way home and take the oil to her, but he 
 never did stop, or perhaps he never went 
 back. ;uul about five o clock I began to get 
 dreadfully worried, for I knew if that lamp 
 wasn t in my sister in-law s window by dark 
 she might be a widow before midnight. So 
 I said to myself, I ve got to get that oil to 
 her, no matter what happens or how it s 
 done. Of course I couldn t tell what might 
 happen, hut there was only one way it could 
 be done, and that was for me to get into the 
 
98 THE WIDOW S CRUISE 
 
 boat [hat was tied to the post down by the 
 vrate .iid take it to her, for it was too far 
 for Kic to Avalk around by the head of the 
 bay. Now the trouble was I didn t know no 
 more about a boat and the managin of it than 
 any one of you sailor men knows about clear 
 starchin . But there wasn t no use of thinkin 
 what I knew and what I didn t know, for I 
 had to take it to her and there was no way of 
 doin it except in that boat. So I filled a 
 gallon car) , for I thought I might as well take 
 enough while I was about it, and I went down 
 to the water and I unhitched that boat and I 
 put the oil-can into her and then I got in, and 
 off I started, and when I was about a quarter 
 of a mile from the shore " 
 
 " Madam," interrupted Captain Bird, " did 
 you row or or was there a sail to the boat? " 
 
 The widow looked at the questioner for a 
 moment. "No," said she, "I didn t row. I 
 forgot to bring the oars from the house, but 
 it didn t matter for I didn t know ,how to use 
 them, and if there had been a sail I couldn t 
 have put it up, 4pr I didn t know how to use 
 it either. I used the rudder to make the boat 
 go. The rudder was the only thing that I 
 knew anything about. I d held a rudder when 
 
THE WIDOW S CRUISE 99 
 
 I was a little girl and I knew how to work it. 
 So I just took hold of the handle of the rud 
 der and turned it round and round, and that 
 made the boat go ahead, you know, and 
 
 " Madam ! " exclaimed Captain Bird, and 
 the other elderly mariners took their pipes 
 from their mouths. 
 
 " Yes, that is the way I did it," continued 
 the widow briskly ; " big steamships are made 
 to go by a propeller turning round and round 
 at their back ends, and I made the rudder 
 work in the same way, and I got along very 
 well, too, until suddenly, when I was about a 
 quarter of a mile from the shore, a most ter 
 rible and awful storm arose. There must have 
 been a typhoon or a cyclone out at sea, for 
 the waves came up the bay bigger than houses, 
 and when they got to the head of the bay they 
 turned around and tried to get out to sea 
 again ; so in this way they continually met, 
 and made the most awful and roarin pilin uy 
 of waves that ever was known. 
 
 " My little boat was pitched about as if it 
 had been a feather in a breeze, and when the 
 front part of it was cleavin itself down into 
 the water the hind part was stickin up until 
 the rudder whizzed around like a patent 
 
100 THE WIDOW S CRUISE 
 
 churn with no milk in it. The thunder began 
 to roar and the lightnin flashed, and three 
 sea-gulls, SQ nearly frightened to death that 
 they began to turn up the whites of their 
 eyes, flew down and sat on one of the seats of 
 the boat, f orgettin in that awful moment that 
 man was their nat ral enemy. I had a couple 
 of biscuits in my pocket, because I had 
 thought I might want a bite in crossing, and 
 I crumbled up one of these and fed the poor 
 creatures. Then I began to wonder what? I 
 was goin to do, for things were gettin awful- 
 ler and awfuller every instant, and the little 
 boat was a-heavin and a-pitchin aud a-rollin 
 and h istin itself up, lirst on one end and then 
 on the other, to such an extent that if I hadn t 
 kept tight hold of the rudder handle I d 
 slipped off the seat I was sittin on. 
 
 " All of a sudden I remembered that oil in 
 the can, but just as I was puttin my fingers 
 on the cork my conscience smote me. Am 
 I goin to use this oil, I said to myself, and 
 let my sister-in-law s husband be wrecked for 
 want of it ? And then I thought that he 
 wouldn t want it all that night and perhaps^ 
 they would buy oil the next day, and so I 
 poured out about a tumblerful of it on the 
 
THE WIDOW S CRUISE 101 
 
 water, and I can just tell you sailor men that 
 you never saw anything act as prompt as that 
 did. In three seconds, or perhaps five, the 
 water all around me, for the distance of a 
 small front yard, was just as flat as a table and 
 as smooth as glass, and so invitin in appear 
 ance that the three gulls jumped out of the 
 boat and began to swim about on it, primin 
 their feathers and looking at themselves in 
 the transparent depths, though I must say 
 that one of them made an awful face as he 
 dipped his bill into the water and tasted kero 
 sene. 
 
 " Now I had time to sit quiet in the midst 
 of the placid space I had made for myself and 
 rest from working of the rudder. Truly it was 
 a wonderful and marvelous thing to look at. 
 The waves was roarin and leapin up all 
 around me higher than the roof of this house, 
 and sometimes their tops would reach over so 
 that they nearly met and shut out all view of 
 the stormy sky, which seemed as if it was bein 
 torn to pieces by blazin lightnin , while the 
 thunder pealed so tremendous that it almost 
 drowned the roar of the waves. Not only 
 above and all around me was everything ter 
 rific and fearful, but even under me it was the 
 
102 THE WIDOW S CRUISE 
 
 same, for there was a big crack in the bottom 
 of the boat as wide as my hand, and through 
 this I could see down into the water beneath, 
 and there was " 
 
 " Madam ! " ejaculated Captain Bird, the 
 hand which had been holding his pipe a few 
 inches from his mouth now dropping to his 
 knee, and at this motion the hands which held 
 the pipes of the three other mariners dropped 
 to their knees. 
 
 " Of course it sounds strange," continued 
 the widow, " but I know that people can see 
 down into clear water, and the water under 
 me was clear, and the crack was wide enough 
 for me to see through, and down under me 
 was sharks and sword-fishes and other horri 
 ble water creatures, which I had never seen 
 before, all driven into the bay, I haven t a 
 doubt, by the violence of the storm out at sea. 
 The thought of my bein upset and fallin in 
 among those monsters made my very blood 
 run cold, and involuntary-like I began to turn 
 the handle of the rudder, and in a moment I 
 shot into a wall of ragin sea water that was 
 towerin around me. For a second I was 
 fairly blinded and stunned, but I had the cork 
 out of that oil-can in no time, and very soon, 
 
THE WIDOW S CRUISE 103 
 
 you d scarcely believe it if I told you how 
 soon, I had another placid mill-pond sur- 
 roundin of me. I sat there a-pantin and fan- 
 nin with my straw hat, for you d better be 
 lieve I was flustered, and then I began to 
 think how long it would take me to make a 
 line of mill-ponds clean across the head of 
 the bay and how much oil it would need and 
 whether I had enough. So I sat and calcu 
 lated that if a tumblerful of oil would make a 
 smooth place about seven yards across, which 
 I should say was the width of the one I was 
 in, which I calculated by a measure of my eye 
 as to how many breadths of carpet it would 
 take to cover it, and if the bay was two miles 
 across, betwixt our house and my sister-iii- 
 law s, and although I couldn t get the thing 
 down to exact figures, I saw pretty soon that 
 I wouldn t have oil enough to make a level 
 cuttin through all those mountainous billows, 
 and besides, even if I had enough to take me 
 across, what would be the good of going if 
 there wasn t any oil left to fill my sister-in- 
 law s lamp ? 
 
 " While 1 was thinkin and calculatin a 
 perfectly dreadful thing happened, which 
 made me think if I didn t get out of this 
 
104 THE WIDOWS CRUISE 
 
 pretty soon I d find myself in a mighty risky 
 predicament. The oil-can, which .1 had for 
 gotten to put the cork in, toppled over, and 
 before I could grab it every drop of the oil 
 ran into the hind part of the boat, where it 
 was soaked up by a lot of dry dust that was 
 there. No wonder my heart sank when I saw 
 this. Glancin wildly around me, as people 
 will do when they are scared, I saw the 
 smooth place I was in gettin smaller and 
 smaller, for the kerosene was evaporatin , as 
 it will do even oil* woollen clothes if you give 
 it time enough. The first pond I had come 
 out of seemed to be covered up, and the great, 
 towerin , throbbin precipice of sea- water was 
 a-closin around me. 
 
 " Castin down my eyes in despair I hap 
 pened to look through the crack in the bot 
 tom of the boat, and oh ! what a blessed re 
 lief it was, for down there everything was 
 smooth and still, and I could see the sand on 
 the bottom as level and hard, no doubt, as it 
 was on the beach. Suddenly the thought 
 struck me that that bottom would give me 
 the only chance I had of gettin out of the 
 frightful fix I was in. If I could fill that oil 
 can with air and then puttin it under my arm 
 
THE WIDOW S CRUISE 105 
 
 and takin a long breath, if I could drop down 
 on that smooth bottom, I might run along 
 toward shore, as far as I could, and then, 
 when I felt my breath was givin out, I 
 could take a pull at the oil-can and take an 
 other run, and then take another pull and 
 another run, and perhaps the can would hold 
 air enough for me until I got near enough to 
 shore to wade to dry land. To be sure the 
 sharks and other monsters were down there, 
 but then they must have been awfully fright 
 ened and perhaps they might not remem 
 ber that man was their nat ral enemy. Any 
 way, I thought it would be better to try the 
 smooth water passage down there than stay 
 and be swallowed up by the ragin weaves on 
 top. 
 
 "So I blew the can full of air and corked 
 it, and then I tore up some of the boards 
 from the bottom of the boat so as to make a 
 hole big enough for me to get through and 
 you sailor men needn t wriggle so when I say 
 that, for yoii all know a divin bell hasn t any 
 bottom at all and the water never comes in 
 and so when I got the hole big enough I took 
 the oil can under my arm and w r as just about 
 to slip down through it when I saw an awful 
 
106 THE WIDOW S CRUISE 
 
 turtle a-walkin through the sand at the bot 
 tom. Now, I might trust sharks and sword- 
 fishes and sea-serpents to be frightened and 
 forget about their nat ral enemies, but I 
 never could trust a gray turtle as big as a 
 cart, with a black neck a yard long, with yel 
 low bags to its jaws, to forget anything or to 
 remember anything. I d as lieve get into a 
 bath-tub with a live crab as to go down there. 
 It wasn t of no use even so much as thinkin* 
 of it, so I gave up that plan and didn t once 
 look through that hole again." 
 
 " And what did you do, madam ? " asked 
 Captain Bird, who was regarding her- with a 
 face of stone. 
 
 " I used electricity," she said. " Now don t 
 start as if you had a shock of it. That s what 
 I used. When I was younger than I was 
 then and sometimes visited friends in the 
 city, we often amused ourselves by rubbing 
 our feet on the carpet until we got ourselves 
 so full of electricity that we could put up our 
 fingers and light the gas. So I said to my 
 self that if I could get full of electricity for 
 the purpose of lightin the gas I could get 
 full of it for other purposes, and so, without 
 losin a moment, I set to work. I stood up 
 
THE WIDOW S CRUISE 107 
 
 on one of the seats, which was dry, and I 
 rubbed the bottoms of my shoes backward 
 and forward on it with such violence and 
 swiftness that they pretty soon got warm and 
 I began fillin with electricity, and when I was 
 fully charged with it from my toes to the top 
 of my head I just sprang into the water and 
 swam ashore. Of course I couldn t sink, bein 
 full of electricity." 
 
 Captain Bird heaved a long sigh and rose 
 to his feet, whereupon the other mariners 
 rose to their feet. " Madam," said Captain 
 Bird, " what s to pay for the supper and 
 the rest of the entertainment ? " 
 
 " The supper is twenty-five cents apiece," 
 said the widow Ducket, " and everything else 
 is free, gratis." 
 
 Whereupon each mariner put his hand into 
 his trousers pocket, pulled out a silver quar 
 ter, and handed it to the widow. Then with 
 four solemn " Good-evenin s" they went out 
 to the front gate. 
 
 " Cast off, Captain Jenkinson," said Cap 
 tain Bird, " and you, Captain Burress, clew 
 him up for ard. You can stay in the bow, 
 Captain Sanderson, and take the sheet lines. 
 I ll go aft." 
 
108 THE WIDOW S CRUISE 
 
 All being ready, each of the elderly mar 
 iners clambered over a wheel, and having 
 seated thuuibwiv^s, they prepared to lay their 
 course for Cuppertown. 
 
 But just as they were about to start Cap 
 tain Jenkinson asked that they lay-to a bit, 
 and clambering down over his wheel, he re- 
 entered the front gate and went up to the 
 door of the house, where the widow and Dor 
 cas were still standing. 
 
 " Madam," said he, " I just came back to 
 ask what became of your brother-in-law 
 through his wife s not bein able to put no 
 light in the window ? " 
 
 " The storm drove him ashore on our side 
 of the bay," said she, " and the next mornin 
 he came up to our house and I told him all 
 that had happened to me ; and when he took 
 our boat and went home and told that story 
 to his wife she just packed up and went out 
 "West, and got divorced from him ; and it 
 served him right, too." 
 
 " Thank you, ma am," s/dd Captain Jenkin 
 son, and going out of the gate he clambered 
 up over the wheel and the wagon cleared for 
 Cuppertown. 
 
 the elderly mariners were goae--4ke 
 
THE WIDOW S CRUISE 109 
 
 widow Daek^tj -still- standing 4n-4he-loar, 
 
 ta^d to Dorcas : 
 
 " Think of it ! " she said, "to tell all that 
 to me, in my own house ! And after I had 
 opened my one jar of brandied peaches-that 
 I d -been, keepin for special company ! " 
 
 "In your own house I "ejaculated Dorcas. 
 "And not one of them brandied peaches left! " 
 
 The widow jingled the four quarters in her 
 hand before she slipped them into her pocket. 
 
 "-Anyway, Dorcas," she remarked, " I 
 y-^-e. .are~squara 
 
 the woiid r and so let s go in and wash the 
 dishes." 
 
 " Yes," said Dorcas, "we re square." 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 I WAS still a young man when I came 
 into the possession of an excellent estate. 
 This consisted of a large country house, 
 surrounded by lawns, groves, and gardens, 
 and situated not far from the flourishing 
 little town of Boynton. Being an orphan 
 with no brothers or sisters, I set up here a 
 bachelor s hall, in which, for two years, I 
 lived with great satisfaction and comfort, im 
 proving my grounds and furnishing my house. 
 When I had made all the improvements which 
 were really needed, and feeling that I now 
 had a most delightful home to come back to, 
 I thought it would be an excellent thing to 
 take a trip to Europe, give my mind a run in 
 fresh fields and pick up a lot of bric-a-brac 
 and ideas for the adornment and advantage 
 of my house and mind. 
 
 It was the custom of the residents in my 
 neighborhood who owned houses and trav- 
 
114 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 elled in the summer to let their houses dur 
 ing their absence, and my business agent and 
 myself agreed that this would be an excel 
 lent thing for me to do. If the house were 
 let to a suitable family it would yield me 
 a considerable income, and the place would 
 not present on my return that air of retro 
 gression and desolation which I might ex 
 pect if it were left unoccupied and in charge 
 of a caretaker. 
 
 My agent assured me that I would have no 
 trouble whatever in letting my place, for it 
 offered many advantages and I expected but 
 a reasonable rent. I desired to leave every 
 thing just as it stood, house, furniture, books, 
 horses, cows, and poultry, taking with me 
 only my clothes and personal requisites, and 
 I desired tenants who would come in, bring 
 ing only their clothes and personal requisites, 
 which they could quietly take away with 
 them when their lease should expire and I 
 should return home. 
 
 In spite, however, of the assurances of the 
 agent it was not easy to let my place. The 
 house was too large for some people; too 
 small for others, and while some applicants 
 had more horses than I had stalls in my 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 115 
 
 stable, others did not want even the horses I 
 would leave. I had engaged my steamer 
 passage, and the day for my departure drew 
 near and yet no suitable tenants had pre 
 sented themselves. I had almost come to 
 the conclusion that the whole matter would 
 have to be left in the hands of my agent, for 
 I had no intention whatever of giving up my 
 projected travels, when early one afternoon 
 some people came to look at the house. 
 Fortunately I was at home and I gave myself 
 the pleasure of personally conducting them 
 about the premises. It was a pleasure, be 
 cause as soon as I comprehended the fact 
 that these applicants desired to rent my 
 house I wished them to have it. 
 
 The family consisted of an elderly gentle 
 man and his wife with a daughter of twenty 
 or thereabouts. This was a family that suited 
 me exactly. Three in number, no children, 
 people of intelligence and position, fond of 
 the country and anxious for just such a place 
 as I offered them what could be better ? 
 
 The more I walked about and talked with 
 these good people and showed them my 
 possessions the more I desired that the 
 young lady should take my house. Of 
 
116 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 course, her pa-rents were included in this 
 wish, but it was for her ears that all my re 
 marks were intended, although sometimes 
 addressed to the others, and she was the 
 tenant I labored to obtain. I say labored 
 advisedly, because I racked my brain to think 
 of inducements which might bring them to a 
 speedy and favorable decision. 
 
 Apart from the obvious advantages of the 
 arrangement it would be a positive delight to 
 me during my summer wanderings in Europe 
 to think that that beautiful girl would be 
 strolling through my grounds, enjoying my 
 flowers and sitting with her book in the 
 shady nooks I had made so pleasant, lying 
 in my hammocks, spending her evening 
 hours in my study reading my books, writ 
 ing at my desk and perhaps musing in my 
 easy-chair. Before these applicants appeared 
 it had sometimes pained me to imagine 
 strangers in my home, but no such thought 
 crossed my mind in regard to this young 
 lady, who, if charming in the house and on 
 the lawn, grew positively entrancing when 
 she saw my Jersey cows and my two horses, 
 regarding them with an admiration which 
 even surpassed my own. 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 117 
 
 Long before we had completed the tour of 
 inspection I had made up my mind that this 
 young lady should come to live in my house. 
 If obstacles should show themselves they 
 should be removed. I would tear down, I 
 would build, I would paper and paint, I 
 would put in all sorts of electric bells ; I 
 would reduce the rent until it suited their 
 notions exactly ; I would have my horses 
 tails banged if she liked that kind of tails 
 better than long ones ; I would do anything 
 to make them definitely decide to take the 
 place before they left me. I trembled to 
 think of her going elsewhere and giving 
 other householders a chance to tempt her. 
 She had looked at a good many country 
 houses, but it was quite plain that none of 
 them had pleased her so well as mine. 
 
 I left them in my library to talk the matter 
 over by themselves, and in less than ten min 
 utes the young lady herself came out on the 
 lawn to tell me that her father and mother 
 had decided to take the place and would like 
 to speak with me. 
 
 " I am so glad," she said as we went in ; 
 " I am sure I shall enjoy every hour of our 
 stay here. It is so different from anything 
 we have yet seen." 
 
118 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 When everything had been settled I wanted 
 to take them again over the place and point 
 out a lot of things I had omitted. I particu 
 larly wanted to show them some lovely walks 
 in the woods, but there was no time, for they 
 had to catch a train. 
 
 Her name was Yincent Cora Yincent, as 
 I discovered from her mother s remarks. 
 
 As soon as they departed I had my mare 
 saddled and rode into town to see my agent. 
 I w r ent into his office exultant. 
 
 " I ve let my house," I said, " and I want 
 you to make out the lease and have every 
 thing fixed and settled as soon as possible. 
 This is the address of my tenants." 
 
 The agent asked me a good many ques 
 tions, being particularly anxious to know 
 what rent had been agreed upon. 
 
 " Heavens ! " he exclaimed, when I men 
 tioned the sum, "that is ever so much less 
 than what I told you you could get. I am 
 in communication now with a party whom I 
 know would pay you considerably more than 
 these people. Have you definitely settled 
 with them? Perhaps it is not too late to 
 withdraw." 
 
 "Withdraw!" I cried. "Never! They 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 119 
 
 are the only tenants I want. I was deter 
 mined to get them and I think I must have 
 lowered the rent four or five times in the 
 course of the afternoon. I took a big slice 
 out of it before I mentioned the sum at all. 
 You see," said I, very impressively, " these 
 Vincents exactly suit me," and then I went 
 on to state fully the advantages of the ar 
 rangement, omitting, however, any references 
 to my visions of Miss Vincent swinging in 
 my hammocks or musing in my study-chair. 
 
 It was now May 15th and my steamer 
 would sail on the 21st. The intervening 
 days I employed, not in preparing for my 
 travels, but in making every possible arrange 
 ment for the comfort and convenience of my 
 incoming tenants. The Vincents did not 
 wish to take possession until June 1st, and I 
 was sorry they had not applied before I had 
 engaged my passage, for in that case I would 
 have selected a later date. A very good 
 steamer sailed on June 3d and it would have 
 suited me just as well. 
 
 Happening to be in New York one day I 
 went to the Vincents city residence to con 
 sult with them in regard to some awnings 
 which I proposed putting up at the back of 
 
120 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 the house. I found no one at home but the 
 old gentleman, and it made no difference 
 to him whether the awnings were black and 
 brown or red and yellow. I cordially in 
 vited him to come out before I left and bring 
 his family that they might look about the 
 place to see if there was anything they would 
 like to have done which had not already been 
 attended to. It was so much better, I told 
 him, to talk over these matters personally 
 with the owner than with an agent in his ab 
 sence. Agents were often very unwilling to 
 make changes. Mr. Vincent was a very quiet 
 and exceedingly pleasant elderly gentleman, 
 and thanked me very much for my invitation, 
 but said he did not see how he could find the 
 time to get out to my house before I sailed. 
 I did not like to say that it was not at all 
 necessary for him to neglect his affairs in or 
 der to accompany his family to my place, 
 but I assured him that if any of them wished 
 to go out at any time before they took pos 
 session they must feel at perfect liberty to 
 do so. 
 
 I mentioned this matter to my agent, sug 
 gesting that if he happened to be in New 
 York he might call on the Yincents and re- 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 121 
 
 peat my invitation. It was not likely that 
 the old gentleman would remember to men 
 tion it to his wife and daughter, and it was 
 really important that everything should be 
 made satisfactory before I left. 
 
 " It seems to me," he said, smiling a little 
 grimly, "that the Vincents had better be 
 kept away from your house until you have 
 gone. If you do anything more to it you 
 may find out that it would have been more 
 profitable to have shut it up while you are 
 away." 
 
 He did call, however, partly because I 
 wished him to and partly because he was cu 
 rious to see the people I was so anxious to 
 install in my home, and to whom he was to 
 be my legal representative. He reported 
 the next day that he had found no one at 
 home but Miss Vincent, and that she had 
 said that she and her mother would be very 
 glad to come out the next week and go over 
 the place before they took possession. 
 
 " Next week ! " I exclaimed, " I shall be 
 gone then ! " 
 
 " But I shall be here," said Mr. Barker 
 "and I ll show them about and take their 
 suggestions." 
 
122 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 This did not suit me at all. It annoyed 
 me very much to think of Barker showing 
 Miss Vincent about my place. He was a 
 good looking young man and not at all back 
 ward in his manners. 
 
 " After all," said I, " I suppose that every 
 thing that ought to be done has been done. 
 I hope you told her that." 
 
 " Of course not," said he : " that would 
 have been running dead against your orders. 
 Besides, it s my business to show people 
 about places. I don t mind it." 
 
 This gave me an unpleasant and uneasy 
 feeling. I wondered if Mr. Barker were the 
 agent I ought to have, and if a middle-aged 
 man with a family and more experience 
 might not be better able to manage my af 
 fairs. 
 
 " Barker," said I, a little later, " there will 
 be no use of your going every month to the 
 Vincents to collect their rent. I shall write 
 to Mr. Vincent to pay as he pleases. He can 
 send a check monthly or at the end of the 
 season, as it may be convenient. He is per 
 fectly responsible and I would much prefer 
 to have the money in a lump when I come 
 back." 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 123 
 
 Barker grinned. " All right," said he, 
 " but that s not the way to do business, you 
 know." 
 
 I may have been mistaken but I fancied 
 that I saw in my agent s face an expression 
 which indicated that he intended to call on 
 the first day of each month on the pretext of 
 telling Vincent that it was not necessary to 
 pay the rent at any particular time, and that 
 he also proposed to make many other inter 
 vening visits to inquire if repairs were 
 needed. This might have been a good deal 
 to get out of his expression but I think I 
 could have got more if I had thought longer. 
 
 On the day before that on which I was 
 to sail, my mind was in such a disturbed 
 condition that I could not attend to my 
 packing or anything else. It almost en 
 raged me to think that I was deliberately 
 leaving the country ten days before my ten 
 ants would come to my house. There was 
 no reason w,hy I should do this ; there were 
 many reasons why I should not ; there was 
 Barker. I was now of the opinion that he 
 would personally superintend the removal of 
 the Yincents and their establishment to my 
 home. I remembered that the only sugges- 
 
124 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 tion he had made about the improvement of 
 the place had been the construction of a ten 
 nis-court. I knew that he was a champion 
 player. Confound it ! What a dreadful mis 
 take I had made in selecting such a man for 
 my house agent. With my mind s eye I 
 could already see Miss Vincent and Barker 
 selecting a spot for tennis and planning the 
 arrangements of the court. 
 
 I took the first train to New York and went 
 directly to the steamboat office. It is aston 
 ishing how many obstacles can be removed 
 from a man s path if he will make up his 
 mind to give them a good kick. I found that 
 my steamer was crowded. The applications 
 for passage exceeded the accommodations, 
 and the agent was delighted to transfer me to 
 the steamer that sailed on June 3d. I went 
 home exultant. Barker drove over in the 
 evening to take his last instructions, and a 
 blank look came over his face when I told 
 him that business had delayed my departure 
 and that I should not sail the next day. If I 
 had told him that part of that business was 
 the laying out of a tennis-court he might have 
 looked blanker. 
 
 Of course the date of my departure did not 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 125 
 
 concern the Vincents, provided the house was 
 vacated by June 1, and I did not inform them 
 of the changes in my plans, but when the 
 mother and daughter came out the next week 
 they were much surprised to find me waiting 
 to receive them instead of Barker. I hope 
 that they were also pleased, and I am sure 
 that they had every reason to be so. Mrs. 
 Vincent, having discovered that I was a most 
 complacent landlord, accommodated herself 
 easily to my disposition and made a number 
 of minor requirements, all of which I granted 
 without the slightest hesitation. I was de 
 lighted at last to put her into the charge of 
 my housekeeper, and when the two had be 
 taken themselves to the bed-rooms I invited 
 Miss Vincent to come out with me to select a 
 spot for a tennis-court. The invitation was 
 accepted with alacrity, for tennis, she declared, 
 was a passion with her. 
 
 The selection of that tennis-court took 
 nearly an hour, for there were several good 
 places for one and it was hard to make a se 
 lection, besides I could not lose the opportu 
 nity of taking Miss Vincent into the woods 
 and showing her the walks I had made and 
 the rustic seats I had placed in pleasant 
 
126 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 nooks. Of course she would liave discovered 
 these, but it was a great deal better for her to 
 know all about them before she came. At 
 last Mrs. Vincent sent a maid to tell her 
 daughter that it was time to go for the train, 
 and the court had not been definitely planned. 
 
 The next day I went to Miss Vincent s 
 house with a plan of the grounds, and she 
 and I talked over it until the matter was 
 settled. It was necessary to be prompt 
 about this, as I explained, as there would be 
 a great deal of leveling and rolling to be 
 done. 
 
 I also had a talk with the old gentleman 
 about books. There were several large boxes 
 of my books in New York which I had never 
 sent out to my country house. Many of these 
 I thought might be interesting to him, and I 
 offered to have them taken out and left at his 
 disposal. When he heard the titles of some 
 of the books in the collection he was much 
 interested, but insisted that before he made 
 use of them they should be catalogued, as 
 were the rest of my effects. I hesitated a 
 moment, wondering if I could induce Barker 
 to come to New York and catalogue four big 
 boxes of books, when, to ray surprise, Miss 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 127 
 
 Vincent incidentally remarked that if they 
 were in any place where she could get at them 
 she would be pleased to help catalogue them ; 
 that sort of thing was a great pleasure to her. 
 Instantly I proposed that I should send the 
 books to the Vincent house ; that they should 
 there be taken out so that Mr. Vincent could 
 select those he might care to read during the 
 summer ; that I would make a list of these, 
 and if Miss Vincent would assist me I would 
 be grateful for the kindness, and those that 
 were not desired could be returned to the 
 store-house. 
 
 What a grand idea was this ! I had been 
 internally groaning because I could think of 
 no possible pretence for further interviews 
 with Miss Vincent, and here was something 
 better than I could have imagined. Her 
 father declared that he could not put me to 
 so much trouble, but I would listen to none of 
 his words, and the next morning my books 
 were spread over his library floor. 
 
 The selection and cataloguing of the vol 
 umes desired occupied the mornings of three 
 days. The old gentleman s part was soon 
 done, but there were many things in the 
 books which were far more interesting to me 
 
128 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 than their titles, and to which I desired to 
 draw Miss Vincent s attention. All this 
 greatly protracted our labors. She was not 
 only a beautiful girl, but her intelligence and 
 intellectual grasp were wonderful. I could 
 not help telling her what a great pleasure it 
 would be to me to think, while wandering in 
 foreign lands, that such an appreciative fam 
 ily would be enjoying my books and my place. 
 
 "You are so fond of your house and every 
 thing you have," said she, " that we shall al 
 most feel as if we were depriving you of your 
 rights. But I suppose that Italian lakes and 
 the Alps will make you forget for a time even 
 your beautiful home." 
 
 " Not if you are in it," I longed to say, but 
 I restrained myself. I did not believe that it 
 were possible for me to be more in love with 
 that girl than I was at that moment, but, of 
 course, it would be the rankest stupidity to 
 tell her so. To her I was simply her father s 
 landlord. 
 
 I went to that house the next day to see 
 that the boxes were properly repacked, and I 
 actually went the next day to see if the right 
 boxes had gone into the country, and the 
 others back to the storehouse. The first day 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 129 
 
 I saw only the father. The second day it 
 was the mother who assured me that every 
 thing had been properly attended to. I be 
 gan to feel that if I did not wish a de 
 cided rebuff I would better not make any 
 more pretences of business at the Vincent 
 house. 
 
 There were affairs of my own which should 
 have been attended to and I ought to have 
 gone home and attended to them, but I could 
 not bear to do so. There was no reason to 
 suppose she would go out there before the 
 first of June. 
 
 Thinking over the matter many times I 
 came to the conclusion that if I could see 
 her once more I would be satisfied Then I 
 would go away and carry her image with me 
 into every art gallery, over every glacier and 
 under every lovely sky that I should enjoy 
 abroad, hoping all the time that, taking my 
 place, as it were, in my home, and making 
 my possessions, in a measure, her own, she 
 would indirectly become so well acquainted 
 with me that when I returned I might speak 
 to her without shocking her. 
 
 To obtain this final interview there was 
 but one way. I had left my house on Satur- 
 
130 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 day, the Yincents would come on the follow 
 ing Monday and I would sail on Wednesday. 
 I would go on Tuesday to inquire if they 
 found everything to their satisfaction. This 
 would be a very proper attention from a 
 landlord about to leave the country. 
 
 When I reached Boynton I determined to 
 walk to my house, for I did not wish to en 
 cumber myself with, a hired vehicle. I might 
 be asked to stay to luncheon. A very strange 
 feeling came over me as I entered my grounds. 
 They were not mine. For the time being 
 they belonged to somebody else. I was 
 merely a visitor or a trespasser if the Vin 
 cents thought proper so to consider me. If 
 they did not like people to walk on the 
 grass I had no right to do it. 
 
 None of my servants had been left on the 
 place, and the maid who came to the door 
 informed me that Mr. Yincent had gone to 
 New York that morning and that Mrs. Yin- 
 cent and her daughter were out driving. I 
 ventured to ask if she thought they would 
 soon return, and she answered that she did 
 not think they would, as they had gone to 
 Eock Lake which, from the way they talked 
 about it, must be a long way off. 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 131 
 
 Bock Lake ! When I had driven over 
 there with my friends we had taken luncheon 
 at the inn and returned in the afternoon. 
 And what did they know of Rock Lake ? 
 Who had told them of it? That officious 
 Barker, of course. 
 
 " Will you leave a message, sir? " said the 
 maid, who, of course, did not know me. 
 
 " No," said I, and as I still stood gazing at 
 the piazza floor she remarked that if I wished 
 to call again she would go out and speak to 
 the coachman and ask him if anything had 
 been said to him about the time of the party s 
 return. 
 
 Worse and worse ! Their coachman had 
 not driven them ! Some one who knew the 
 country had been their companion. They 
 were not acquainted in the neighborhood 
 and there could not be a shadow of a doubt 
 that it was that obtrusive Barker who had 
 indecently thrust himself upon them on the 
 very next day after their arrival, and had 
 thus snatched from me that last interview 
 upon which I had counted so earnestly. 
 
 I had no right to ask any more questions ; 
 I left no message nor any name, and I had 
 no excuse for saying I would call again. 
 
132 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 I got back to my hotel without having met 
 any one whom I knew, and that night I re 
 ceived a note from Barker, stating that he 
 had fully intended coming to the steamer to 
 see me off, but that an engagement would 
 prevent him. He sent, however, his best 
 good wishes for my safe passage and assured 
 me that he would keep me fully informed of 
 the state of my affairs on this side. 
 
 " Engagement ! " I exclaimed. " Is he 
 going to drive with her again to-morrow ? " 
 
 My steamer sailed at two o clock the next 
 day, and after an early breakfast I went to 
 the company s office to see if I could dispose 
 of my ticket. It had become impossible, I 
 told the agent, for me to leave America at 
 present. He said it was a very late hour to 
 sell my ticket, but that he would do what he 
 could, and if an applicant turned up he would 
 give him my room and refund the money. 
 He wanted me to change to another date but 
 I declined to do this. I was not able to say 
 when I should sail. 
 
 I now had no plan of action. All I knew 
 was that I could not leave America without 
 finding out something definite about this 
 Barker business. That is to say, if it should 
 
-)- 
 
 AT THE STEAMSHIP OFFICE. 
 
 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 133 
 
 be complained to me that instead of attend 
 ing to my business, sending a carpenter to 
 make repairs, if such were necessary, or going 
 personally to the plumber to make sure that 
 that erratic personage would give his atten 
 tion to any pipes in regard to which Mr. 
 Vincent might have written, Barker should 
 mingle in sociable relations with my tenants 
 and drive or play tennis with the young lady 
 of the house, then would I immediately have 
 done with him. I would withdraw my busi 
 ness from his hands and place it in those of 
 old Mr. Poindexter. More than that, it might 
 be my duty to warn Miss Vincent s parents 
 against Barker. I did not doubt that he was 
 a very good house and land agent, but in se 
 lecting him as such I had no idea of intro 
 ducing him to the Vincents in a social way. 
 In fact, the more I thought about it the more 
 I became convinced that if ever I mentioned 
 Barker to my tenants it would be to warn 
 them against him. From certain points of 
 view he was actually a dangerous man. 
 
 This, however, I would not do until I 
 found my agent was really culpable. To 
 discover what Barker had done, what he was 
 doing and what he intended to do, was now 
 
134 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 my only business in life. Until I had satis 
 fied myself on these points I could not think 
 of starting out upon my travels. 
 
 Now that I had determined that I would 
 not start for Europe until I had satisfied 
 myself that Mr. Barker was contenting him 
 self with attending to my business, and not 
 endeavoring to force himself into social rela 
 tions with my tenants, I was anxious that 
 the postponement of my journey should be 
 unknown to my friends and acquaintances, 
 and I was, therefore, very glad to see in 
 a newspaper, published on the afternoon 
 of the day of my intended departure, my 
 name among the list of passengers who had 
 sailed upon the Mnemonic. For the first 
 time I commended the super- enterprise of a 
 reporter who gave more attention to the 
 timeliness of his news than to its accuracy. 
 
 I was stopping at a New York hotel, but 
 I did not wish to stay there. Until I felt my 
 self ready to start on my travels the neigh 
 borhood of Boynton would suit me better 
 than anywhere else. I did not wish to go to 
 the town itself, for Barker lived there and I 
 knew many of the townspeople, but there 
 were farm-houses, not far away, where I 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 135 
 
 might spend a week. After considering the 
 matter I thought of something that might 
 suit me. About three miles from my house, 
 on an unfrequented road, was a mill which 
 stood at the end of an extensive sheet of 
 water, in reality a mill pond, but commonly 
 called a lake. The miller, an old man, had 
 recently died, and his house near by was oc 
 cupied by a newcomer whom I had never 
 seen. If I could get accommodations there it 
 would suit me exactly. I left the train two 
 stations below Boynton and walked over to 
 the mill. 
 
 The country-folk in my neighborhood are 
 always pleased to take summer boarders if 
 they can get them, and the miller and his 
 wife were glad to give me a room, not imag 
 ining that I was the owner of a good house 
 not far away. The place suited my require 
 ments very well. It was near her and I might 
 live here for a time unnoticed, but what I 
 was going to do with my opportunity I did 
 not know. Several times the conviction 
 forced itself upon me that I should get up at 
 once and go to Europe by the first steamer, 
 and so show myself that I was a man of 
 sense. 
 
136 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 This conviction was banished on the sec 
 ond afternoon of my stay at the mill. I was 
 sitting under a tree in the orchard near the 
 house, thinking and smoking my pipe, when 
 along the road which ran by the side of the 
 lake, came Mr. Yincent on my black horse 
 General and his daughter on my mare Sap 
 pho. Instinctively I pulled my straw hat 
 over my eyes, but this precaution was not 
 necessary. They were looking at the beauti 
 ful lake with its hills and overhanging trees, 
 and saw me not ! 
 
 When the very tip of Sappho s tail had 
 melted into the foliage of the road I arose to 
 my feet and took a deep breath of the happy 
 air. I had seen her and it was with her 
 father she was riding. 
 
 I do not believe I slept a minute that night 
 through thinking of her and feeling glad that 
 I was near her, and that she had been riding 
 with her father. 
 
 "When the early dawn began to break an 
 idea brighter than the dawn broke upon me : 
 I would get up and go nearer to her. It is 
 amazing how much we lose by not getting up 
 early on the long summer days. How beau 
 tiful the morning might be on this earth I 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 137 
 
 never knew until I found myself wandering 
 by the edge of my woods and over my lawn 
 with the tender gray-blue sky above me and 
 all the freshness of the grass and flowers and 
 trees about me, the birds singing among the 
 branches and she sleeping sweetly somewhere 
 within that house with its softly-defined 
 lights and shadows. How I wished I knew 
 what room she occupied ! 
 
 The beauties and joys of that hour were 
 lost to every person on the place, who were 
 all, no doubt, in their soundest sleep. I did 
 not even see a dog. Quietly and stealthily 
 stepping from bush to hedge I went around 
 the house, and as I drew near the barn I fan 
 cied I could hear from a little room adjoin 
 ing it the snores of the coachman. The lazy 
 rascal would probably not awaken for two or 
 three hours yet, but I would run no risks and 
 in half an hour I had sped away. 
 
 Now I knew exactly why I was staying at 
 the house of the miller. I was doing so in 
 order that I might go early in the mornings to 
 my own home, in which the girl I loved lay 
 dreaming, and that for the rest of the day and 
 much of the night I might think of her. 
 
 " What place in Europe," I said to myself, 
 
138 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 " could be so beautiful, so charming, and so 
 helpful to reflection as this sequestered lake, 
 these noble trees, these stretches of undulat 
 ing meadow ? " 
 
 Even if I should care to go abroad, a 
 month or two later would answer all my pur 
 poses. Why had I ever thought of spending 
 five months away ? 
 
 There was a pretty stream which ran from 
 the lake and wended its way through a green 
 and shaded valley, and here with a rod I 
 wandered and fished and thought. The mil 
 ler had boats, and in one of these I rowed 
 far up the lake where it narrowed into a 
 creek, and between the high hills which shut 
 me out from the world I would float and 
 think. 
 
 Every morning, soon after break of day, I 
 went to my home and wandered about my 
 grounds. If it rained I did not mind that ; I 
 like a summer rain. 
 
 Day by day I grew bolder. Nobody in 
 that household thought of getting up until 
 seven o clock. For two hours, at least, 
 I could ramble undisturbed through my 
 grounds, and much as I had once enjoyed 
 these grounds, they never afforded me the 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 139 
 
 pleasure they gave me now. In these happy 
 mornings I felt all the life and spirits of a boy. 
 I went into my little field and stroked the 
 sleek sides of my cows as they nibbled the 
 dewy grass. I even peeped through the 
 barred window of Sappho s box, and fed her, 
 as I had been used to doing, with bunches of 
 clover. I saw that the young chickens were 
 flourishing. I went into the garden and noted 
 the growth of the vegetables, feeling glad that 
 she would have so many fine strawberries and 
 tender peas. 
 
 I had not the slightest doubt that she was 
 fond of flowers, and for her sake now, as I 
 used to do for my own sake, I visited the 
 flower beds and borders. Not far from the 
 house there was a cluster of old-fashioned 
 pinks which I was sure were not doing very 
 well. They had been there too long, per 
 haps, and they looked stunted and weak. 
 In the miller s garden I had noticed great 
 beds of these pinks and I asked his wife if I 
 might have some, and she, considering them 
 as mere wild flowers, said I might have as 
 many as I liked. She might have thought 
 I wanted simply the blossoms, but the next 
 morning I went over to my house with a bas- 
 
140 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 ket filled with great matted masses of the 
 plants taken up with the roots and plenty of 
 earth around them, and after twenty minutes 
 work in my own bed of pinks, I had taken 
 out all the old plants and filled their places 
 with fresh, luxuriant masses of buds and 
 leaves and blossoms. How glad she would 
 be when she saw the fresh life that had come 
 to that flower bed ! With light footsteps I 
 went away, not feeling the weight of the bas 
 ket filled with the old plants and roots. 
 
 The summer grew and strengthened and 
 the sun rose earlier, but as that had no effect 
 upon the rising of the present inhabitants of 
 my place, it gave me more time for my morn 
 ing pursuits. Gradually I constituted myself 
 the regular flower-gardener of the premises. 
 How delightful the work was, and how fool 
 ish I thought I had been never to think of 
 doing this thing for myself, but no doubt it 
 was because I was doing it for her that I found 
 it so pleasant. 
 
 Once again I had seen Miss Vincent. It 
 was in the afternoon and I had rowed myself 
 to the upper part of the lake, where, with the 
 high hills and the trees on each side of me, I 
 felt as if I were alone in the world. Floating 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 141 
 
 idly along, with my thoughts about three 
 miles away, I heard the sound of oars, and 
 looking out on the open part of the lake I 
 saw a boat approaching. The miller was 
 rowing and in the stern sat an elderly gentle 
 man and a young lady. I knew them in an 
 instant ; they were Mr. and Miss Vincent. 
 
 With a few vigorous strokes I shot myself 
 into the shadows and rowed up the stream 
 into the narrow stretches among the lily pads, 
 under a bridge and around a little wooded 
 point, where I ran the boat ashore and sprang 
 upon the grassy bank. I did not believe the 
 miller would bring them as far as this, but I 
 Avent up to a higher spot and watched for 
 half an hour, but I did not see them again. 
 How relieved I was, for it would have been 
 terribly embarrassing had they discovered me, 
 and how disappointed I was that the miller 
 turned back so soon ! 
 
 I now extended the supervision of mv 
 grounds. I walked through the woods, and 
 saw how beautiful they were in the early 
 dawn. I threw aside the fallen twigs and 
 cut away encroaching saplings, which were 
 beginning to encumber the paths I had made, 
 and if I found a bough which hung too low I 
 
142 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 cut it off. There was a great beech tree, be 
 tween which and a dogwood I had the year 
 before suspended a hammock. In passing 
 this one morning I was amazed to see a ham 
 mock swinging from the hooks I had put in 
 the two trees. This was a retreat which I 
 had supposed no one else would fancy or 
 even think of ! In the hammock was a fan, 
 a common Japanese fan. For fifteen minutes 
 I stood looking at that hammock, every nerve 
 a-tingle. Then I glanced around; the spot 
 had been almost unfrequented since last 
 summer ; little bushes, weeds and vines had 
 sprung up here and there between the two 
 trees. There were dead twigs and limbs 
 lying about, and the short path to the main 
 walk was much overgrown. 
 
 I looked at my watch. It was a quarter to 
 six. I had yet a good hour for work, and 
 with nothing but my pocket-knife and my 
 hands I began to clear away the space about 
 that hammock. When I left it it looked as 
 it used to look when it was my pleasure to 
 lie there and swing and read and reflect. 
 
 To approach this spot it was not necessary 
 to go through my grounds, for my bit of 
 woods adjoined a considerable stretch of for- 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 143 
 
 est land, and in my morning walks from the 
 mill I often used a path through these woods. 
 The next morning when I took this path I 
 was late because I had unfortunately over 
 slept myself. When I reached the hammock 
 it wanted fifteen minutes to seven o clock. 
 It was too late for me to do anything, but I 
 was glad to be able to stay there even for a 
 few minutes, to breathe that air, to stand on 
 that ground, to touch that hammock. I did 
 more than that; why shouldn t I? I got 
 into it. It was a better one than that I had 
 hung there ; it was delightfully comfortable. 
 At this moment, gently swinging in that 
 woodland solitude, with the sweet odors of 
 the morning all about me, I felt myself nearer 
 to her than I had ever been before. 
 
 But I knew I must not revel in this place 
 too long. I was on the point of rising to 
 leave when I heard approaching footsteps. 
 My breath stopped ; was I at last to be dis 
 covered ? This was what came of my reck 
 less security. But perhaps the person, some 
 workman most likely, would pass without 
 noticing me. To remain quiet seemed the 
 best course, and I lay motionless. 
 
 But the person approaching turned into 
 
144: LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 the little pathway; the footsteps came 
 nearer. I sprang from the hammock. Be 
 fore me was Miss Vincent ! 
 
 What was my aspect I know not, but I 
 have no doubt I turned fiery red. She 
 stopped suddenly, but she did not turn red. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Kipley," she exclaimed, " good- 
 morning. You must excuse me. I did not 
 know 
 
 That she should have had sufficient self- 
 possession to say good-morning amazed me. 
 Her whole appearance, in fact, amazed me. 
 There seemed to be something wanting in her 
 manner. I endeavored to get myself into 
 condition. 
 
 " You must be surprised," I said, " to see 
 me here. You supposed I was in Europe, 
 but- 
 
 As I spoke I made a couple of steps toward 
 her, but suddenly stopped. One of my coat 
 buttons had caught in the meshes of the 
 hammock. It was confoundedly awkward ; 
 I tried to loosen the button, but it was badly 
 entangled ; then I desperately pulled at it to 
 tear it off. 
 
 " Oh, don t do that," she said. " Let me 
 unfasten it for you," and taking the threads 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 145 
 
 of the hammock in one of her little hands 
 and the button in the other she quickly 
 separated them. " I should think buttons 
 would be very inconvenient things, at least, 
 in hammocks," she said smiling; "you see 
 girls don t have any such trouble." 
 
 I could not understand her manner; she 
 seemed to take my being there as a matter of 
 course. 
 
 " I must beg a thousand pardons for this 
 this trespass," I said. 
 
 " Trespass ! " said she with a smile ; " peo 
 ple don t trespass on their own land." 
 
 "But it is not my land," said I. "It is 
 your father s for the time being. I have no 
 right here whatever. I do not know how to 
 explain, but you must think it very strange to 
 find me here when you supposed I had started 
 for Europe." 
 
 "Oh, I knew you had not started for 
 Europe," said she, "because I have seen you 
 working in the grounds." 
 
 " Seen me ! " I interrupted. " Is it pos 
 sible ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," said she. " I don t know how 
 long you had been coming when I first saw 
 you, but when I found that fresh bed of 
 
146 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 pinks all transplanted from somewhere, and 
 just as lovely as they could be, instead of the 
 old ones, I spoke to the man, but he did not 
 know anything about it and said he had not 
 had time to do anything to the flowers, 
 whereas I had been giving him credit for 
 ever so much weeding and cleaning up. Then 
 I supposed that Mr. Barker, who is just 
 as kind and attentive as he can be, had done 
 it, but I could hardly believe he was the sort 
 of man to come early in the morning and 
 work out-of-doors " (oh, how I wish he had 
 come, I thought. If I had caught him here 
 working among the flowers !) " and when 
 he came that afternoon to play tennis I found 
 that he had been away for two days, and 
 could not have planted the pinks, so I simply 
 got up early one morning and looked out and 
 there I saw you, with your coat off, working 
 just as hard as ever you could." 
 
 I stepped back, my mind for a moment a 
 perfect blank. 
 
 " What could you have thought of me ? " I 
 exclaimed presently. 
 
 " Really, at first I did not know what to 
 think," said she. " Of course, I did not 
 know what had detained you in this country, 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 147 
 
 but I remembered that I had heard that you 
 were a very particular person about your 
 flowers and shrubs and grounds, and that 
 most likely you thought they would be better 
 taken care of if you kept an eye on them, and 
 that when you found there was so much to do 
 you just went to work and did it. I did not 
 speak of this to anybody, because if you did 
 not wish it to be known that you were taking 
 care of the grounds it was not my business 
 to tell people about it. But yesterday when 
 I found this place where I had hung my 
 hammock so beautifully cleared up and made 
 so nice and clean and pleasant in every way, 
 I thought I must come down to tell you how 
 much obliged I am and also that you ought 
 not to take so much trouble for us. If you 
 think the grounds need more attention I will 
 persuade my father to hire another man, now 
 and then, to work about the place. Really, 
 Mr. Eipley, you ought not to have to 
 
 I was humbled, abashed. She had seen 
 me at my morning devotions, and this was 
 the way she interpreted them. She consid 
 ered me an over-nice fellow who was so 
 desperately afraid his place would be injured 
 that he came sneaking around every morning 
 
14-8 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 to see if any damage had been done and to 
 put things to rights. 
 
 She stood for a moment as if expecting me 
 to speak, brushed a buzzing fly from her 
 sleeve, and then, looking at me with a gentle 
 smile, she turned a little as if she were about 
 to leave. 
 
 I could not let her go without telling her 
 something. Her present opinion of me must 
 not rest in her mind another minute, and yet 
 what story could I devise? How, indeed, 
 could I devise anything with which to de 
 ceive a girl who spoke and looked at me as 
 this girl did? I could not do it. I must 
 rush away speechless and never see her again, 
 or I must tell her all. I came a little nearer 
 to her. 
 
 " Miss Vincent," said I, " you do not un 
 derstand at all why I am here, why I have 
 been here so much, why I did not go to Eu 
 rope. The truth is I could not leave. I do 
 not wish to be away, I want to come here 
 and live here always 
 
 " Oh, dear," she interrupted, " of course it 
 is natural that you should not want to tear 
 yourself away from your lovely home. It 
 would be very hard for us to go away now, 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 149 
 
 especially for father and me, for we have 
 grown to love this place so much, but if you 
 want us to leave, I dare say 
 
 " I want you to leave ! " I exclaimed. 
 " Never ! When I say that I want to live 
 here myself, that my heart will not let me go 
 anywhere else, I mean that I want you to live 
 here too you, your mother and father that 
 I want- 
 
 " Oh, that would be perfectly splendid," 
 she said. " I have ever so often thought that 
 it was a shame that you should be deprived 
 of the pleasures you so much enjoy, which I 
 see you can find here and nowhere else. 
 Now, I have a plan which I think will work 
 splendidly. We are a very small family. 
 Why shouldn t you come here and live with 
 us ? There is plenty of room, and I know 
 father and mother would be very glad, and 
 you can pay your board if that would please 
 you better. You can have the room at the 
 top of the tower for your study and your 
 smoking den, and the room under it can be 
 your bedroom, so you can be just as indepen 
 dent as you please of the rest of us, and you 
 can be living on your own place without in 
 terfering with us in the least. In fact, it 
 
150 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 would be ever so nice, especially as I am in 
 the habit of going away to the seashore with 
 my aunt every summer for six weeks, and I 
 was thinking how lonely it would be this year 
 for father and mother to stay here all by 
 themselves." 
 
 The tower and the room under it ! For 
 me ! What a contemptibly little-minded and 
 insignificant person she must think me. The 
 words with which I strove to tell her that I 
 wished to live here as lord, with her as my 
 queen, would not come. She looked at me 
 for a moment as I stood on the brink of say 
 ing something but not saying it, and then she 
 turned suddenly toward the hammock. 
 
 "Did you see anything of a fan I left 
 here ? " she said. " I know I left it here, but 
 when I came yesterday it was gone. Perhaps 
 you may have noticed it somewhere." 
 
 Now, the morning before, I had taken that 
 fan home with me. It was an awkward thing 
 to carry, but I had concealed it under my 
 coat. It was a contemptible trick, but the 
 fan had her initials on it, and as it was the 
 only thing belonging to her of which I could 
 possess myself, the temptation had been too 
 great to resist. As she stood waiting for my 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 151 
 
 answer there was a light in her eye which il 
 luminated niy perceptions. 
 
 " Did you see me take that fan ? " I asked. 
 
 " I did," said she. 
 
 " Then you know," I exclaimed, stepping 
 nearer to her, " why it is I did not leave this 
 country as I intended, why it was impossible 
 for me to tear myself away from this house, 
 why it is that I have been here every morn 
 ing hovering around and doing the things I 
 have been doing ? " 
 
 She looked up at me, and with her eyes she 
 said, " How could I help knowing ? " She 
 might have intended to say something with 
 her lips, but I took my answer from her eyes, 
 and with a quick impulse of a lover I 
 stopped her speech. 
 
 " You have strange ways," she said, pres 
 ently, blushing and gently pressing back my 
 arm ; " I haven t told you a thing." 
 
 " Let us tell each other everything now," 
 I cried ; and we seated ourselves in the ham 
 mock. 
 
 It was a quarter of an hour later and we 
 were still sitting together in tjie hammock. 
 
 " You may think," said she, " that, know 
 ing what I did, it was very queer for me to 
 
152 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 come out to you this morning, but I could 
 not help it. You were getting so dreadfully 
 careless and were staying so late and doing 
 things which people would have been bound 
 to notice, especially as father is always talk 
 ing about our enjoying the fresh hours of the 
 morning, that I felt I could not let you go on 
 any longer. And when it came to that fan 
 business I saw plainly that you must either 
 immediately start for Europe, or " 
 
 "Or what," I interrupted. 
 
 " Or go to my father and regularly engage 
 yourself as a " 
 
 I do not know whether she was going to 
 say gardener or not, but it did not matter ; I 
 stopped her. 
 
 It was perhaps twenty minutes later and 
 we were standing together at the edge of the 
 woods ; she wanted me to come to the house 
 to take breakfast with them. 
 
 " Oh, I could not do that," I said; "they 
 would be so surprised. I should have so 
 much to explain before I could even begin to 
 state my case." 
 
 " Well, then explain," said she. "You will 
 find father on the front piazza. He is always 
 there before breakfast, and there is plenty of 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 153 
 
 time. After all that has been said here I can 
 not go to breakfast and look commonplace 
 while you run away." 
 
 " But suppose your father objects ? " said I. 
 
 "Well, then you will have to go back 
 and take breakfast with your miller," said 
 she. 
 
 I never saw a family so little affected by 
 surprises as those Vincents. When I appeared 
 on the front piazza the old gentleman did 
 not jump. He shook hands with me and 
 asked me to sit down, and when I told him 
 everything he did not even ejaculate, but 
 simply folded his hands together and looked 
 out over the railing. 
 
 " It seemed strange to Mrs. Vincent and 
 myself," he said, "when we first noticed your 
 extraordinary attachment for our daughter, 
 but after all it was natural enough." 
 
 "Noticed it!" I exclaimed; "when did 
 you do that?" 
 
 "Very soon," he said. "When you and 
 Cora were cataloguing the books at my house 
 in town I noticed it and spoke to Mrs. Vin 
 cent, but she said it was nothing new to her, 
 for it was plain enough on the day when we 
 first met you here that you were letting the 
 
154 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 house to Cora, and that she had not spoken 
 of it to me because she was afraid I might 
 think it wrong to accept the favorable and 
 unusual arrangements you were making with 
 us if I suspected the reason for them. We 
 talked over the matter, but, of course, we 
 could do nothing, because there was nothing 
 to do, and Mrs. Vincent was quitgjmre you 
 would write to us from Europe. [But when 
 my man Ambrose told me he had seen some 
 one working about the place in the very early 
 morning, and that as it was a gentleman he 
 supposed it must be the landlord, for nobody 
 else would be doing such things, Mrs. Vin 
 cent and myself looked out of the window the 
 next day, and when we found it was indeed you 
 who were coming here every day we felt that 
 the matter was serious and were a good deal 
 troubled. We found, however, that you were 
 conducting affairs in a very honorable way, 
 that you were not endeavoring to see Cora, 
 and that you did not try to have any secret 
 correspondence with her, and as we had no 
 right to prevent you from coming on your 
 grounds, we concluded to remain quiet until 
 you should take some step which we would 
 be authorized to notice. Later, when Mr. 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 155 
 
 Barker came and told me that you had not 
 gone to Europe and were living with a miller 
 not far from here 
 
 " Barker ! " I cried. " The scoundrel ! " 
 
 " You are mistaken, sir," said Mr. Vincent ; 
 " he spoke with the greatest kindness of you, 
 and said that as it was evident you had your 
 own reasons for wishing to stay in the neigh 
 borhood, and did not wish the fact to be 
 known, he had spoken of it to no one but me, 
 and he would not have done this had he not 
 thought it would prevent embarrassment in 
 case we should meet." 
 
 Would that everlasting Barker ever cease 
 meddling in my affairs ? 
 
 "Do you suppose," I asked, "that he 
 imagined the reason for my staying here ? " 
 
 " I do not know," said the old gentleman, 
 " but after the questions I put to him I have 
 no doubt he suspected it. I made many in 
 quiries of him regarding you, your family, 
 habits, and disposition, for this was a very 
 vital matter to me, sir, and I am happy to in 
 form you that he said nothing of you that was 
 not good, so I urged him to keep the matter 
 to himself. I determined, however, that if 
 yoji continued your morning visits I should 
 
156 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 take an early opportunity of accosting you and 
 asking an explanation." 
 
 " And you never mentioned anything of this 
 to your daughter ? " said I. 
 
 " Oh, no," he answered; " we carefully kept 
 everything from her." 
 
 "But, my dear sir," said I, rising, "you 
 have given me no answer. You have not told 
 me whether or not you will accept me as a 
 son-in-law." 
 
 He smiled. " Truly," he said, " I have not 
 answered you, but the fact is, Mrs. Vincent 
 and I have considered the matter so long, 
 and having come to the conclusion that if 
 you made an honorable and straightforward 
 proposition, and if Cora were willing to 
 accept you, we could see no reason to object 
 to 
 
 At this moment the front door opened and 
 Cora appeared. 
 
 "Are you going to stay to breakfast?" 
 she asked. " Because, if you are, it is ready." 
 
 I stayed to breakfast. 
 
 I am now living in my own house, not in 
 the two tower rooms, but in the whole man 
 sion, of which my former tenant, Cora, is now 
 mistress supreme. Mr. and Mrs. Yincent ex- 
 
JM17rB11 Trf[i 1 h^^^t^3HBHMLTfc- *^^^^^^^B 
 
 - \ 
 
 * 
 
LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 157 
 
 pect to spend the next summer here and take 
 care of the house while we are travelling. 
 
 Mr. Barker, an excellent fellow and a most 
 thorough business man, still manages my 
 affairs, and there is nothing on the place that 
 flourishes so vigorously as the bed of pinks 
 which I got from the miller s wife. 
 
 By the way, when I went back to my lodg 
 ing on that eventful day, the miller s wife met 
 me at the door. 
 
 " I kept your breakfast waiting for you for 
 a good while," said she, " but as you didn t 
 come I supposed you were taking breakfast 
 in your own house and I cleared it away." 
 
 " Do you know who I am ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " Oh, yes, sir," she said ; " we did not at 
 first, but when everybody began to talk about 
 it we couldn t help knowing it." 
 
 " Everybody ! " I gasped. " And may I 
 ask what you and everybody said about me ? " 
 
 " I think it was the general opinion, sir," 
 said she, " that you were suspicious of them 
 tenants of yours, and nobody wondered at it, 
 for when city people gets into the country 
 and on other people s property, there s no 
 trusting them out of your sight for a minute." 
 
 I could not let the good woman hold this 
 
158 LOVE BEFORE BREAKFAST 
 
 opinion of my tenants, and I briefly told her 
 the truth. She looked at me with moist ad 
 miration in her eyes. 
 
 " I am glad to hear that, sir," said she. " I 
 like it very much, but if I was you I wouldn t 
 be in a hurry to tell my husband and the 
 people in the neighborhood about it. They 
 might be a little disappointed at first, for they 
 had a mighty high opinion of you when they 
 thought that you was layin low here to keep 
 an eye on them tenants of yours." 
 
THE BISHOP S GHOST AND THE 
 PRINTER S BABY 
 
THE BISHOP S GHOST AND THE 
 PRINTER S BABY 
 
 A KOTJND the walls of a certain old church 
 l\ there stood many tombs, and these had 
 been there so long that the plaster with which 
 their lids were fastened down had dried and 
 crumbled so that in most of them there were 
 long cracks under their lids, and out of these 
 the ghosts of the people who had been buried 
 in -tho tomb were in the habit of escaping at 
 night. 
 
 This had been going on for a long time, 
 and,^-ai ihc pcriodrtrf- our otory the tombs 
 were in such bad repair that every night the 
 body of the church was 4Ht filled with ghosts^SO 
 that before daylight one of the sacristans was 
 obliged to come into the church and sprinkle 
 holy water everywhere. This was done to 
 clear the church of ghosts before the first ser 
 vice began, and who does not know that if a 
 ghost is sprinkled with holy water it shrivels 
 
162 THE BISHOP S GHOST 
 
 
 up! 
 
 eascluisrvoly -ky ffrantoro on thoir way hom-e 
 
 from-- their nightly labors on the journals-of 
 
 LiiO TJO >V1) 
 
 The tomb which had the largest crack 
 under its lid belonged to a bishop who had 
 died more than a hundred years before, and 
 who had a great reputation for sanctity ; so 
 much so, indeed, that people had been in the 
 habit of picking little pieces of plaster from 
 under the lid of his tomb and carrying them 
 away as holy relics, to prevent disease and 
 accidents. 
 
 This tomb was more imposing than -the 
 othoro, and-stood upon a pedestal, so that the 
 crack beneath its lid was quite plain to view, 
 .and remarks had been made abo.ut having it 
 
 j 
 was 
 
 Yery early one morning, before it was time 
 for the first service, there came into the 
 church a poor mason, Jlis wife had roocntl 
 
 n * l *S J i 
 
 ^eeov-efcd from Qr--eeO--icknQ00) ami Ko wa 
 desirous of making an offering to the church. 
 But having no money to spare, he had deter 
 mined that he would repair the bishop s 
 tomt> and he conscqtrefttly -earae -ttr-do this 
 bef ore-Ids regular hours of work began. 
 
AND THE PRINTER S BABY 163 
 
 All the ghosts were out of their tombs at 
 the time, but they were gathered in the other 
 end of the church, and the mason did not see 
 them, nor did they notice him ; and he im 
 mediately went to work. He-fend brought- 
 smfre plaster and a, trowol, and i-fe-wae-aot 
 long- before tho oraek under the lid of the 
 tomb was entirely filled up, and the plaster 
 made as smooth aird neat as when the tomb 
 
 ^ Whon hio work waa finiohod, tho maoon 
 ^e left the church by the little side door which 
 had given him entrance. 
 
 Not ten minutes afterward the sacristan 
 came in to sprinkle the church with holy 
 water. Instantly the ghosts began to scatter 
 right and left, and to slip into their tombs as 
 quickly as possible, but when the ghost of the 
 good bishop reached his tomb he found it im 
 possible to get in. He wont aronnd and aromid 
 could he find the least little 
 
 ekist-by which he could enter. The-sacristan 
 wfts-walkitig along the other side of the church, 
 scattering holy water, and in great trepida 
 tion the bishop s ghost hastened from tomb 
 to tomb, hoping to find one which was unoc- 
 crtpiedy-i&to which lie could slip 
 
164 THE BISHOP S GHOST 
 
 
 sprinkling began o 
 
 He soon came to* fiT which he thought 
 
 might be unoccupied, but he discovered to 
 
 his consternation that it was occupied by 
 
 the ghost of a young girl who had died of 
 
 love. 
 
 "Alas! alas!" ^esekmttGd iho bioliopfe 
 ,gkosL. " How unlucky ! Who would have 
 supposed this to be your tomb ? " 
 
 " It is not really my tomb," said the ghost 
 of the young girl. "It is the tomb of Sir 
 Geoffrey of the Marie, who was killed in bat 
 tle nigh two centuries ago. I was told that if 
 had boon ompfo forTt^ottg-feaerfefr his ghost 
 had gone to Castle Marle^Iot long ago I 
 came into the church, and finding thi&4omb 
 unoccupied, I settled here." 
 
 " Ah, me ! " said the bishop s ghost, " the 
 sacristan will soon be around here with holy 
 water. Could not you get out and go to your 
 own tomb ; where is that ? " 
 
 "Alas, good father," 
 
 young girl, " I have no tomb ; I was buried 
 plainly in the ground, and I do not know that 
 I could find the place again. But I have no 
 right to keep you out of this tomb, good 
 father ; it is as much yours as it is mine, so I 
 
AND THE PRINTERS BABY 165 
 
 will come out and let you enter j -tettl^v you 
 -are in groat danger. As for me, it doesn t 
 matter very much whether I am sprinkled or 
 not." 
 
 So the ghost of the young girl slipped out 
 of Sir Geoffrey s tomb, and the bishop s 
 ghost slipped in, but nofe a mimite before the 
 ftrt-eristan had reached the place. The ghost 
 of the young girl flitted from one pillar to an 
 other n4il it came near the door, and there 
 it paused, thinking what it should do next. 
 E^>n if tt oenld fii*^ the grave from which it 
 -had come, it did not want to go back to such 
 , place ; it liked churches better. 
 
 Soon the printers began to come in to the 
 early morning service. One of them was very 
 sad, and there were tears in his eyes. He was 
 a young man, not long married, and Luu&i&p 
 & baby girl N was so sick that he scarcely ex 
 pected to find it alive when he should reach 
 home that morning. 
 
 The ghost of the young girl was attracted 
 by the sorrowful printer, and when the ser 
 vice was over, and he had left the church, it 
 followed him, keeping itself unseen. The 
 printer found his wife in tears ; the poor lit 
 tle baby was very low. It lay upon the bed, 
 
166 THE BISHOP S GHOST 
 
 its eyes shut, its face pale and pinched, gasp 
 ing for breath. 
 
 Tho mother wao obliged to loavo tho room 
 for a few moments -to-attend to some house 
 hold -aJE&ir, and her husband followed to oom 
 f oxtiier, and when they were goag4be- ghoot 
 of fh ft ynrmor -girl approached the. Jaed-aad 
 lojoked do.\vn on the little baby. -It was 
 nearer-death than its parents suppose<i,-fttttl. 
 
 fing.rn.P.1y 1inrl J-.Vipy grma bef nvp - ^ flrPW Jtfi IftFit 
 
 breath^ 
 
 The ghost of the young girl bowed its head. 
 It was filled with pity and sympathy for the 
 printer and his wife. In an instant, however, 
 it was seized with an idea, and the next in 
 stant it had acted upon it. Scarcely had the 
 spirit of the little baby left its body than the 
 spirit of the young girl entered it. 
 
 Now a gentle warmth suffused the form of 
 the little child, a natural color came into its 
 cheeks, it breathed quietly and regularly, and 
 when the printer and his wife came back they 
 found their baby in a healthful sleep. -As. 
 thoy stood amazed Tttribe-ehango in -4fee-eo*H*- 
 tenance of the child it opened its even and 
 smiled upon them. 
 
 "The crisis is past!" cried the mother. 
 
AND THE PRINTER S BABY 167 
 
 "She is saved, and it is all because you 
 stopped at the church instead of hurrying 
 home, as you wished to do." The ghost of 
 the young girl knew that this was true, and 
 the baby smiled, fpMh 
 
 It was eighteen years later, and the print 
 er s baby had grown into a beautiful young 
 woman. From her early childhood she had 
 been fond of visiting the church, and would 
 spend hours among the tombs reading the in 
 scriptions, and sometimes sitting by thorn V OBH 
 penally by the tomb of Sir Geoffrey of the 
 Marie. There, when there was nobody by, 
 she used to talk with the bishop s ghost. 
 
 Lato ono afternoon oho oamo to tke~4ornb 
 wi4h a happy smile oa ker faoo. "^Eoly-fa- 
 thor," she said, BpeakmgHse&iy-toough the 
 
 ;. -staying so long 
 
 tomb whic 
 
 , I am, daughter, 
 
 right to complain. I 
 back here in the early morning 
 without a fooling of- the warmest gratitude &y 
 yott-for having given me-*- place of refuge. 
 My greatest trouble is caused by the fear thaT^ 
 the ghost of Sir Geoffrey of < thc"Mrtrk^ may 
 some time choose to return. In that case I 
 
168 THE BISHOP S GHOST 
 
 must give up to him his tomb. And then, 
 where, oh where, shall I go ? " 
 
 " Holy father," whinporod thn girl, " do not 
 trouble yourself ; you shall have your own 
 tomb again, and need fear no one." 
 
 " How is that ? " -exclaimed the DIt>liup*B 
 ghosfcr -"-TeHrmc, quickly, daughter" 
 
 " This is the way of it," wjjliud the young- 
 gict, " When the mason plastered up the 
 crack under the lid of your tomb he seems to 
 have been very careful about the front part 
 of it, but he did not take much pains with the 
 back, where his work was not likely to be seen, 
 so that there the plaster has crumbled and 
 loosened very much, and with a long pin from 
 my hair I have picked out ever so much of 
 it, and now there is a great crack at the back 
 of the tomb, where you can go in and come 
 out JTffii.. as easily as you ever did. As soon 
 as night shall fall you can leave this tomb and 
 go into your own." 
 
 The bishop s ghost could scarcely speak 
 for thankful emotions, and the happy young 
 girl went home to the house of her father, 
 now a prosperous man, and the head printer 
 of the town. 
 
 The next evening the young girl went to 
 
AND THE PRINTER S BABY 169 
 
 the church and hurried to the bishop s tomb. 
 Therein she found the bishop s ghost, happy 
 and content. 
 
 Sitting on a stone projection at the back of 
 the tomb, she had a long conversation with 
 the bishop s ghost, which^iu.. gi ntjitudfl fur 
 what >.l*"4MriMaap gave her all manner of 
 good advice and counsel. " Above all things, 
 my dear daughteiV <ft44~4k<rHc^ 
 "do not repeat your first great mistake; 
 promise me that you will not die of love." 
 
 The young girl smiled. " Fear not, good 
 father," sko ropliocL- " When I died of love I 
 was, in body and soul, but eighteen years old, 
 and knew no better ; now, although my body 
 is but eighteen, my soul is thirty-six. Fear 
 not, never again shall I die of love." 
 
CAPTAIN ELI S BEST EAR 
 
CAPTAIN ELI S BEST EAR 
 
 THE little seaside village of Sponkannis 
 lies so quietly upon a protected spot on 
 our Atlantic coast that it makes no more stir 
 in the world than would a pebble which, held 
 between one s finger and thumb, should be 
 dipped below the surface of a mill-pond and 
 then dropped. About the post-office and the 
 store both under the same roof the greater 
 number of the houses cluster, as if they had 
 come for their week s groceries, or were wait 
 ing for the mail ; while toward the west the 
 dwellings become fewer and fewer, until at 
 last the village blends into a long stretch of 
 sandy coast and scrubby pine-woods. East 
 ward the village ends abruptly at the foot of 
 a wind-swept bluff, 011 which no one cares to 
 build. 
 
 Among the last houses in the western end 
 of the village stood two neat, substantial 
 dwellings, one belonging to Captain Eli 
 
174: CAPTAIN ELP8 BEST EAR 
 
 Bunker, and the other to Captain Cephas 
 Dyer. These householders were two very re 
 spectable retired mariners, the first a wid 
 ower about fifty, and the other a bachelor of 
 perhaps the same age, a few years more or 
 less making but little difference in this region 
 of weather-beaten youth and seasoned age. 
 
 Each of these good captains lived alone, 
 and each took entire charge of his own do 
 mestic affairs, not because he was poor, but 
 because it pleased him to do so. When Cap 
 tain Eli retired from the sea he was the own 
 er of a good vessel, which he sold at a fair 
 profit ; and Captain Cephas had made money 
 in many a voyage before he built his house in 
 Sponkannis and settled there. 
 
 When Captain Eli s wife was living, she 
 was his household manager; but Captain 
 Cephas had never had a woman in his house, 
 except during the first few months of his 
 occupancy, when certain female neighbors 
 came in occasionally to attend to little mat 
 ters of cleaning which, according to popular 
 notions, properly belong to the sphere of 
 woman. 
 
 But Captain Cephas soon put an end to 
 this sort of thing. He did not like a woman s 
 
CAPTAIN ELI S BEST EAR 175 
 
 ways, especially her ways of attending to do 
 mestic affairs. He liked to live in sailor 
 fashion, and to keep house in sailor fashion. 
 In his establishment everything was ship 
 shape, and everything which could be stowed 
 away was stowed away, and, if possible, in a 
 bunker. The floors were holystoned nearly 
 every day, and the whole house was repainted 
 about twice a year, a little at a time, when the 
 weather was suitable for this marine recrea 
 tion. Things not in frequent use were lashed 
 securely to the walls, or perhaps put out of 
 the way by being hauled up to the ceiling by 
 means of blocks and tackle. His cooking was 
 done sailor fashion, like everything else, and 
 he never failed te have plum-duff on Sunday. 
 His well was near his house, and every morn 
 ing he dropped into it a lead and line, and 
 noted down the depth of water. Three times 
 a day he entered in a little note-book the state 
 of the weather, the height of the mercury in 
 barometer and thermometer, the direction of 
 the wind, and special weather points when 
 necessary. 
 
 Captain Eli managed his domestic affairs 
 in an entirely different way. He kept house 
 woman fashion, not, however, in the manner 
 
176 CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 
 
 of an ordinary woman, but after the manner 
 of his late wife, Miranda Bunker, now dead 
 some seven years. Like his friend, Captain 
 Cephas, he had had the assistance of his fe 
 male neighbors during the earlier days of his 
 widowerhood. But he soon found that these 
 women did not do things as Miranda used 
 to do them, and although he frequently sug 
 gested that they should endeavor to imitate 
 the methods of his late consort, they did not 
 even try to do things as she used to do them, 
 preferring their own ways. Therefore it was 
 that Captain Eli determined to keep house by 
 himself, and to do it, as nearly as his nature 
 would allow, as Miranda used to do it. He 
 swept his floors and he shook his door-mats, 
 he washed his paint with soap and hot water, 
 and he dusted his furniture with a soft cloth, 
 which he afterward stuck behind a chest of 
 drawers. He made his bed very neatly, turn 
 ing down the sheet at the top, and setting 
 the pillow upon edge, smoothing it carefully 
 after he had done so. His cooking was based 
 on the methods of the late Miranda ; he had 
 never been able to make bread rise properly, 
 but he had always liked ship biscuit, and he 
 now greatly preferred them to the risen 
 
CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 177 
 
 bread made by liis neighbors ; and as to cof 
 fee and the plainer articles of food with 
 which he furnished his table, even Miranda 
 herself would not have objected to them had 
 she been alive and very hungry. 
 
 The houses of the two captains were not 
 very far apart, and they were good neighbors, 
 often smoking their pipes together and talk 
 ing of the sea. But this was always on the 
 little porch in front of Captain Cephas s 
 house, or by his kitchen fire in the winter. 
 Captain Eli did not like the smell of tobacco- 
 smoke in his house, or even in front of it in 
 summer-time, when the doors were open. 
 He had no objection himself to the odor of 
 tobacco, but it was contrary to the principles 
 of woman-housekeeping that rooms should 
 smell of it, and he was always true to those 
 principles. 
 
 It was late in a certain December, and 
 through the village there was a pleasant 
 little flutter of Christmas preparations. Cap 
 tain Eli had been up to the store, and he had 
 stayed there a good while, warming himself 
 by the stove, and watching the women com 
 ing in to buy things for Christmas. It was 
 strange how many things they bought for 
 
178 CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 
 
 presents or for holiday use fancy soap and 
 candy, handkerchiefs and little woollen shawls 
 for old people, and a lot of pretty little things 
 which he knew the use of, but which Captain 
 Cephas would never have understood at all 
 had he been there. 
 
 As Captain Eli came out of the store he 
 saw a cart in which were two good-sized 
 Christmas-trees which had been cut in the 
 woods, and were going, one to Captain 
 Holmes s house, and the other to Mother 
 Nelson s. Captain Holmes had grandchil 
 dren, and Mother Nelson, with never a child 
 of her own, good old soul, had three little 
 orphan nieces who never wanted for any 
 thing needful at Christmas-time, or any other 
 time. 
 
 Captain Eli walked home very slowly, 
 taking observations in his mind. It was 
 more than seven years since he had had any 
 thing to do with Christmas, except that on 
 that day he had always made himself a 
 mince-pie, the construction and the con 
 sumption of which were equally difficult. It 
 is true that neighbors had invited him, and 
 they had invited Captain Cephas, to their 
 Christmas dinners, but neither of these 
 
CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 179 
 
 worthy seamen had ever accepted any of 
 these invitations. Even holiday food, when 
 not cooked in sailor fashion, did not agree 
 with Captain Cephas, and it would have 
 pained the good heart of Captain Eli if he 
 had been forced to make believe to enjoy a 
 Christmas dinner so very inferior to those 
 which Miranda used to set before him. 
 
 But now the heart of Captain Eli was 
 gently moved by a Christmas flutter. It had 
 been foolish, perhaps, for him to go up to 
 the store at such a time as this, but the mis 
 chief had been done. Old feelings had come 
 back to him, and he would be glad to cele 
 brate Christmas this year if he could think 
 of any good way to do it ; and the result of 
 his mental observations was that he went 
 over to Captain Cephas s house to talk to 
 him about it. 
 
 Captain Cephas was in his kitchen, smok 
 ing his third morning pipe. Captain Eli 
 filled his pipe, lighted it, and sat down by 
 the fire. 
 
 " Cap n," said he, " what do you say to our 
 keepin Christmas this year? A Christmas 
 dinner is no good if it s got to be eat alone, 
 and you and me might eat ourn together. It 
 
180 CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 
 
 might be in my house, or it might be in your 
 house ; it won t make no great difference to 
 me, which. Of course, I like woman house 
 keeping as is laid down in the rules of ser 
 vice for my house ; but next best to that I 
 like sailor housekeeping so I don t mind 
 which house the dinner is in, Cap n Cephas, 
 so it suits you." 
 
 Captain Cephas took his pipe from his 
 mouth. "You re pretty late thinkin about 
 it," said he, "for day after to-morrow s 
 Christmas." 
 
 " That don t make no difference," said Cap 
 tain Eli. " What things we want that are 
 not in my house or your house we can easily 
 get either up at the store or else in the 
 woods." 
 
 " In the woods ! " exclaimed Captain Ce 
 phas. " What in the name of thunder do you 
 expect to get in the woods for Christmas ? " 
 
 " A Christmas-tree," said Captain Eli. " I 
 thought it might be a nice thing to have 
 a Christmas-tree for Christmas. Captain 
 Holmes has got one, and Mother Nelson s 
 got another. I guess nearly everybody s 
 got one. It won t cost anything I can go 
 and cut it." 
 
CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 181 
 
 Captain Cephas grinned a grin, as if a great 
 leak had been sprung in the side of a vessel, 
 stretching nearly from stem to stern. 
 
 " A Christmas-tree ! " he exclaimed. " "Well, 
 I am blessed ! But look here, Cap n Eli ; you 
 don t know what a Christmas-tree s fer ; it s 
 fer children, and not fer grown-ups. Nobody 
 ever does have a Christmas-tree in any house 
 where there ain t no children." 
 
 Captain Eli rose and stood with his back 
 to the fire. " I didn t think of that," he said, 
 " but I guess it s so ; and when I come to 
 think of it, a Christmas isn t much of a 
 Christmas, anyway, without children." 
 
 " You never had none," said Captain Ce 
 phas, " and you ve kept Christmas." 
 
 " Yes," replied Captain Eli, reflectively ; 
 " we did do it, but there was always a lack- 
 ment Miranda has said so, and I have said 
 so." 
 
 " You didn t have no Christmas-tree," said 
 Captain Cephas. 
 
 " No, we didn t ; but I don t think that 
 folks was as much set on Christmas-trees 
 then. as they pear to be now. I wonder," he 
 continued, thoughtfully gazing at the ceiling, 
 " if we was to fix up a Christmas-tree and 
 
182 CAPTAIN ELP8 BEST EAR 
 
 you and me s got a lot of pretty things that 
 we ve picked up all over the world, that would 
 go miles ahead of anything that could be 
 bought at the store for Christmas-trees if 
 we was to fix up a tree, real nice, if we 
 couldn t get some child or other that wasn t 
 likely to have a tree to come in and look at 
 it, and stay awhile, and make Christmas more 
 like Christmas ; and then when it went away 
 it could take along the things that was hang- 
 in on the tree, and keep em for its own." 
 
 "That wouldn t work," said Captain Ce 
 phas. " If you get a child into this business, 
 you must let it hang up its stockin before it 
 goes to bed, and find it full in the mornin , 
 and then tell it an all-fired lie about Santa 
 Claus if it asks any questions. Most children 
 think more of stockin s than they do of trees ; 
 so I ve heard, at least." 
 
 " I ve got no objections to stockin s," said 
 Captain Eli. " If it wanted to hang one up, 
 it could hang one up either here or in my 
 house, wherever we kept Christmas." 
 
 " You couldn t keep a child all night," sar 
 donically remarked Captain Cephas, " and no 
 more could I ; for if it was to get up a croup 
 in the night, it would be as if we was on 
 
CAPTAIN ELTS BEST EAR 183 
 
 a lee shore with anchors draggin and d gale 
 a-blowin ." 
 
 "That s so," said Captain Eli; "you ve 
 put it fair. I suppose if we did keep a child 
 all night, we d have to have some sort of a 
 woman within hail in case of a sudden blow." 
 
 Captain Cephas sniffed. " What s the good 
 of talkin ? " said he. " There ain t no child, 
 and there ain t no woman that you could hire 
 to sit all night on my front step or on your 
 front step a-waitin to be piped on deck in 
 case of croup." 
 
 " No," sakl Captain Eli. " I don t suppose 
 there s any child in this village that ain t 
 goin to be provided with a Christmas-tree or 
 a Christmas-stockin , or perhaps both, except, 
 now I come to think of it, that little gal that 
 was brought down here with her mother last 
 summer, and has been kept by Mrs. Crumley 
 sence her mother died." 
 
 "And won t be kept much longer," said 
 Captain Cephas ; " for I ve Learn Mrs. Crum 
 ley say she couldn t afford it." 
 
 " That s so, said Captain Eli. " If she 
 can t afford to keep the little gal, she can t 
 afford to give no Christmas-trees nor stock- 
 in s ; and so it seems to me, Cap n, that that 
 
184: CAPTAIN ELI S BEST EAR 
 
 little gal would be a pretty good child to help 
 ns keep Christmas." 
 
 " You re all the time forgettin ," said the 
 other, "that nuther of us can keep a child 
 all night." 
 
 Captain Eli seated himself, and looked 
 ponderingly into the fire. "You re right, 
 Cap n," said he; "we d have to ship some 
 woman to take care of her. Of course, it 
 wouldn t be no use to ask Mrs. Crumley?" 
 
 Captain Cephas laughed. " I should say 
 not." 
 
 " And there doesn t seem to be anybody 
 else," said his companion. "Can you think 
 of anybody, Cap n?" 
 
 "There ain t anybody to think of," replied 
 Captain Cephas, " unless it might be Eliza 
 Trimmer ; she s generally ready enough to 
 do anything that turns up. But she wouldn t 
 be no good her house is too far away for 
 either you or me to hail her in case a croup 
 came up suddint." 
 
 " That s so," said Captain Eli ; " she does 
 live a long way off." 
 
 " So that settles the whole business," said 
 Captain Cephas. " She s too far away to 
 come if wanted, and nuther of us couldn t 
 
CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 185 
 
 keep no child without somebody to come if 
 they was wanted, and it s no use to have a 
 Christmas-tree without a child. A Christmas 
 without a Christmas-tree don t seem agree 
 able to you, Cap n, so I guess we d better 
 get along just the same as we ve been in the 
 habit of doin , and eat our Christmas din 
 ner, as we do our other meals, in our own 
 houses." 
 
 Captain Eli looked into the fire. " I don t 
 like to give up things if I can help it. That 
 was always my way. If wind and tide s 
 ag in me, I can wait till one or the other, or 
 both of them, serve." 
 
 " Yes," said Captain Cephas ; " you was 
 always that kind of a man." 
 
 " That s so. But it does pear to me as if 
 I d have to give up this time ; though it s a 
 pity to do it, on account of the little gal, for 
 she ain t likely to have any Christmas this 
 year. She s a nice little gal, and takes as 
 natural to navigation as if she d been born 
 at sea. I ve given her two or three things 
 because she s so pretty, but there s nothin 
 she likes so much as a little ship I gave her." 
 
 " Perhaps she was born at sea," remarked 
 Captain Cephas. 
 
186 CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 
 
 " Perhaps she was," said the other ; " and 
 that makes it the bigger pity." 
 
 For a few moments nothing was said. 
 Then Captain Eli suddenly exclaimed, " I ll 
 tell you what we might do, Cap n ; we might 
 ask Mrs. Trimmer to lend a hand in givin the 
 little gal a Christmas. She ain t got nobody 
 in her house but herself, and I guess she d be 
 glad enough to help give that little gal a regu 
 lar Christmas. She could go and get the child 
 and bring her to your house or to my house, 
 or wherever we re goiii to keep Christmas, 
 and 
 
 " Well," said Captain Cephas, with an air 
 of scrutinizing inquiry, " what ? " 
 
 "Well," replied the other, a little hesitat 
 ingly, " so far as I m concerned that is, I 
 don t mind one way or the other she might 
 take her Christmas dinner along with us and 
 the little gal, and then she could fix her stock- 
 in to be hung up, and help with the Christ 
 mas tree, and " 
 
 " Well," demanded Captain Cephas, " what ? " 
 
 "Well," said Captain Eli, "she could that 
 
 is, it doesn t make any difference to me one 
 
 way or the other she might stay all night at 
 
 whatever house we kept Christmas in, and 
 
CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 187 
 
 then you and me might spend the night in 
 the other house, and then she could be ready 
 there to help the child in the mornin , when 
 she came to look at her stockin ." 
 
 Captain Cephas fixed upon his friend an 
 earnest glare. " That s pretty considerable 
 of an idea to come upon you so suddint," said 
 he ; " but I can tell you one thing : there ain t 
 a-goin to be any such doin s in my house. If 
 you choose to come over here to sleep, and 
 give up your house to any woman you can 
 find to take care of the little gal, all right ; 
 but the thing can t be done here." 
 
 There was a certain severity in these re 
 marks, but they appeared to affect Captain 
 Eli very pleasantly. 
 
 "Well," said he, "if you re satisfied, I am. 
 I ll agree to any plan you choose to make. It 
 doesn t matter to me which house it s in, and 
 if you say my house, I say my house ; all I 
 want is to make the business agreeable to all 
 concerned. Now it s time for me to go to my 
 dinner ; and this afternoon we d better go and 
 try to get things straightened out, because 
 the little gal, and whatever woman comes 
 with her, ought io be at my house to-morrow 
 before dark. S posin we divide up this busi- 
 
188 CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 
 
 ness : I ll go and see Mrs. Crumley about the 
 little gal, and you can go and see Mrs. Trim 
 mer." 
 
 "No, sir," promptly replied Captain Cephas, 
 " I don t go to see no Mrs. Trimmer. You 
 can see both of them just the same as you 
 can see one they re all along the same way. 
 I ll go cut the Christmas-tree." 
 
 "All right," said Captain Eli; "it don t 
 make no difference to me which does which ; 
 but if I was you, Cap n, I d cut a good big 
 tree, because we might as well have a good 
 one while we re about it." 
 
 When he had eaten his dinner and washed 
 up his dishes, and had put everything away 
 in neat, housewifely order, Captain Eli went 
 to Mrs. Crumley s house, and very soon fin 
 ished his business there. Mrs. Crumley kept 
 the only house which might be considered a 
 boarding-house in the village of Sponkannis ; 
 and when she had consented to take charge 
 of the little girl who had been left on her 
 hands she had hoped it would not be very 
 long before she would hear from some of her 
 relatives in regard to her maintenance. But 
 she had heard nothing, and had now ceased 
 to expect to hear anything, and in conse- 
 
CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 189 
 
 quence had frequently remarked that she must 
 dispose of the child some way or other, for 
 she couldn t afford to keep her any longer. 
 Even an absence of a day or two at the house 
 of the good captain would be some relief, and 
 Mrs. Crumley readily consented to the Christ 
 mas scheme. As to the little girl, she was de 
 lighted. She already looked upon Captain 
 Eli as her best friend in the world. 
 
 It was not so easy to go to Mrs. Trimmer s 
 house and put the business before her. " It 
 ought to be plain sailin enough," Captain Eli 
 said to himself, over and over again ; " but 
 for all that it don t seem to be plain sailin ." 
 
 But he was not a man to be deterred by 
 difficult navigation, and he walked straight 
 to Eliza Trimmer s house. 
 
 Mrs. Trimmer was a comely woman, about 
 thirty-five, who had come to the village a 
 year before, and had maintained herself, or 
 at least, had tried to, by dressmaking and 
 plain sewing. She had lived at Stetford, a 
 seaport about twenty miles away, and from 
 there, three years before, her husband, Cap 
 tain Trimmer, had sailed away in a good- 
 sized schooner, and had never returned. She 
 had come to Sponkannis because she thought 
 
190 CAPTAIN ELP8 BEST EAR 
 
 that there she could live cheaper and get 
 more work than in her former home. She 
 had found the first quite possible, but her 
 success in regard to the work had not been 
 very great. 
 
 When Captain Eli entered Mrs. Trimmer s 
 little room, he found her busy mending a sail. 
 Here fortune favored him. " You turn your 
 hand to most anything, Mrs. Trimmer," said 
 he, after he had greeted her. 
 
 " Oh, yes," she answered, with a smile ; " I 
 am obliged to do that. Mending sails is 
 pretty heavy work, but it s better than 
 nothing." 
 
 " I had a notion," said he, " that you was 
 ready to turn your hand to any good kind of 
 business, so I thought I would step in and 
 ask you if you d turn your hand to a little bit 
 of business I ve got on the stocks." 
 
 She stopped sewing on the sail, and lis 
 tened while Captain Eli laid his plan before 
 her. " It s very kind in you and Captain 
 Cephas to think of all that," said she. " I 
 have often noticed that poor little girl, and 
 pitied her. Certainly I ll come, and you 
 needn t say anything about paying me for it. 
 I wouldn t think of asking to be paid for do- 
 
CAPTAIN ELI S BEST EAR 191 
 
 ing a thing like that. And besides" she 
 smiled again as she spoke " if you are go 
 ing to give me a Christmas dinner, as you 
 say, that will make things more than square." 
 
 Captain Eli did not exactly agree with her ; 
 but he was in very good humor, and she was 
 in good humor, and the matter was soon set 
 tled, and Mrs. Trimmer promised to come to 
 the captain s house in the morning and help 
 about the Christmas-tree, and in the afternoon 
 to go to get the little girl from Mrs. Crumley s 
 and bring her to the house. 
 
 Captain Eli was delighted with the arrange 
 ments. " Things now seem to be goin along 
 before a spankin breeze," said he. " But I 
 don t know about the dinner; I guess you 
 will have to leave that to me. I don t believe 
 Captain Cephas could eat a woman-cooked 
 dinner. He s accustomed to livin sailor 
 fashion, you know, and he has declared over 
 and over again to me that woman-cookin 
 doesn t agree with him." 
 
 " But I can cook sailor fashion," said Mrs. 
 Trimmer " just as much sailor fashion as 
 you or Captain Cephas ; and if he don t be 
 lieve it, I ll prove it to him ; so you needn t 
 worry about that." 
 
192 CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 
 
 When the Captain had gone, Mrs. Trimmer 
 gayly put away the sail. There was no need 
 to finish it in a hurry, and no knowing when 
 she would get her money for it when it was 
 done. No one had asked her to a Christmas 
 dinner that year, and she had expected to 
 have a lonely time of it ; but it would be very 
 pleasant to spend Christmas with the little 
 girl and the two good captains. Instead of 
 sewing any more on the sail, she got out some 
 of her own clothes to see if they needed any 
 thing done to them. 
 
 The next morning Mrs. Trimmer went to 
 Captain Eli s house, and finding Captain Ce 
 phas there, they all set to work at the Christ 
 mas-tree, which was a very fine one, and had 
 been planted in a box. Captain Cephas had 
 brought over a bundle of things from his 
 house, and Captain Eli kept running here and 
 there, bringing each time that he returned 
 some new object, wonderful or pretty, which 
 he had brought from China or Japan or Korea, 
 or some spicy island of the Eastern seas, and 
 nearly every time he came with these treasures 
 Mrs. Trimmer declared that these things were 
 too good to put upon a Christmas-tree, even 
 for such a nice little girl as the one for which 
 

 CAPTAIN CEPHAS HAD BROUGHT OVER A BUNDLE OF THINGS. 
 
CAPTAIN ELfS BEST EAR 193 
 
 that tree was intended. The presents which 
 Captain Cephas brought were much more 
 suitable for the purpose : they were odd 
 and funny, and some of them pretty, but 
 not expensive, as were the fans and bits 
 of shell-work and carved ivories which Cap 
 tain Eli wished to tie upon the twigs of 
 the tree. 
 
 There was a good deal of talk about all 
 this, but Captain Eli had his own way. 
 
 " I don t suppose, after all," said he, " that 
 the little gal ought to have all the things. 
 This is such a big tree that it s more like a 
 family tree. Cap n Cephas can take some of 
 my things, and I can take some of his things, 
 and, Mrs. Trimmer, if there s anything you 
 like, you can call it your present, and take 
 it for your own ; so that will be fair and com 
 fortable all round. What I want is to make 
 everybody satisfied." 
 
 " I m sure I think they ought to be," said 
 Mrs. Trimmer, looking very kindly at Cap 
 tain Eli. 
 
 Mrs. Trimmer went home to her own house 
 to dinner, and in the afternoon she brought 
 the little girl. She had said there ought to 
 be an early supper, so that the child would 
 
194 CAPTAIN ELfS BEST EAR 
 
 have time to enjoy the Christmas-tree before 
 she became sleepy. 
 
 This meal was prepared entirely by Cap 
 tain Eli, and in sailor fashion, not woman 
 fashion, so that Captain Cephas could make 
 no excuse for eating his supper at home. Of 
 course they all ought to be together the whole 
 of that Christmas eve. As for the big dinner 
 on the morrow, that was another affair, for 
 Mrs. Trimmer undertook to make Captain 
 Cephas understand that she had always 
 cooked for Captain Trimmer in sailor fashion, 
 and if he objected to her plum-duff, or if any 
 body else objected to her mince-pie, she was 
 going to be very much surprised. 
 
 Captain Cephas ate his supper with a good 
 relish, and was still eating when the rest had 
 finished. As to the Christmas-tree, it was 
 the most valuable, if not the most beautiful, 
 that had ever been set up in that region. It 
 had no candles upon it, but was lighted by 
 three lamps and a ship s lantern, placed in the 
 four corners of the room, and the little girl 
 was as happy as if the tree were decorated 
 with little dolls and glass balls. Mrs. Trim 
 mer was intensely pleased and interested to 
 see the child so happy, and Captain Eli was 
 
CAPTAIN ELI S BEST EAR 195 
 
 much pleased and interested to see the child 
 and Mrs. Trimmer so happy, and Captain 
 Cephas was interested, and perhaps a little 
 amused in a superior fashion, to see Captain 
 Eli and Mrs. Trimmer and the little child so 
 happy. 
 
 Then the distribution of the presents be 
 gan. Captain Eli asked Captain Cephas if 
 he might have the wooden pipe that the lat 
 ter had brought for his present. Captain Ce 
 phas said he might take it, for all he cared, 
 and be welcome to it. Then Captain Eli 
 gave Captain Cephas a red bandanna hand 
 kerchief of a very curious pattern, and Cap 
 tain Cephas thanked him kindly. After 
 which Captain Eli bestowed upon Mrs. Trim 
 mer a most beautiful tortoise-shell comb, 
 carved and cut and polished in a wonderful 
 way, and with it he gave a tortoise-shell fan, 
 carved in the same fashion, because he said 
 the two things seemed to belong to each 
 other and ought to go together ; and he would 
 not listen to one word of what Mrs. Trimmer 
 said about the gifts being too good for 
 her, and that she was not likely ever to 
 use them. 
 
 " It seems to me," said Captain Cephas, 
 
196 CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAtt 
 
 " that you might be giving something to the 
 little gal." 
 
 Then Captain Eli remembered that the 
 child ought not to be forgotten, and her soul 
 was lifted into ecstasy by many gifts, some 
 of which Mrs. Trimmer declared were too 
 good for any child in this wide, wide world ; 
 but Captain Eli answered that they could be 
 taken care of by somebody until the little girl 
 was old enough to know their value. 
 
 Then it was discovered that, unbeknown to 
 anybody else, Mrs. Trimmer had put some 
 presents on the tree, which were things which 
 had been brought by Captain Trimmer from 
 somewhere in the far East or the distant 
 West. These she bestowed upon Captain 
 Cephas and Captain Eli, and the end of all 
 this was that in the whole of Sponkannis, 
 from the foot of the bluff to the east, to the 
 very last house on the shore to the west, 
 there was not one Christmas eve party so 
 happy as this one. 
 
 Captain Cephas was not quite so happy as 
 the three others were, but he was very much 
 interested. About nine o clock the party 
 broke up, and the two captains put on their 
 caps and buttoned up their pea-jackets, and 
 
CAPTAIN ELI S BEST EAR 197 
 
 started for Captain Cephas s house ; but not be 
 fore Captain Eli had carefully fastened every 
 window and every door except the front door, 
 and had told Mrs. Trimmer how to fasten 
 that when they had gone, and had given her 
 a boatswain s whistle, which she might blow 
 out of the window if there should be a sudden 
 croup, and it should be necessary for anyone 
 to go anywhere. He was sure he could hear 
 it, for the wind was exactly right for him to 
 hear a whistle from his house. When they 
 had gone Mrs. Trimmer put the little girl to 
 bed, and was delighted to find in what a 
 wonderfully neat and womanlike fashion that 
 house was kept. 
 
 It was nearly twelve o clock that night 
 when Captain Eli, sleeping in his bunk oppo 
 site that of Captain Cephas, was aroused by 
 hearing a sound. He had been lying with 
 his best ear uppermost, so that he should 
 hear anything if there happened to be any 
 thing to hear ; and he did hear something, 
 but it was not a boatswain s whistle. It was 
 a prolonged cry, and it seemed to come from 
 the sea. 
 
 In a moment Captain Eli was sitting on the 
 side of his bunk, listening intently. Again 
 
198 CAPTAIN ELI S BEST EAR 
 
 came the cry. The window toward the sea 
 was slightly open, and he heard it plainly. 
 
 " Cap n ! " said he, and at the word Captain 
 Cephas was sitting on the side of his bunk, 
 listening. He knew from his companion s 
 attitude, plainly visible in the light of a lan 
 tern which hung on a hook at the other end 
 of the room, that he had been awakened to 
 listen. Again came the cry. 
 
 " That s distress at sea," said Captain Ce 
 phas. " Harken ! " 
 
 They listened again for nearly a minute, 
 when the cry was repeated. 
 
 " Bounce on deck, boys ! " said Captain Ce 
 phas, getting out on the floor. " There s 
 some one in distress offshore." 
 
 Captain Eli jumped to the floor, and began 
 to dress quickly. 
 
 " It couldn t be a call from land? " he asked 
 hurriedly; " It don t sound a bit to you like 
 a boatswain s whistle, does it ? " 
 
 "No," said Captain Cephas, disdainfully. 
 " It s a call from sea." And then, seizing a 
 lantern, he rushed down the companionway. 
 
 As soon as he was convinced that it was a 
 call from sea, Captain Eli was one in feeling 
 and action with Captain Cephas. The latter 
 
CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 199 
 
 hastily opened the drafts of the kitchen stove, 
 and put on some wood, and by the time this 
 was done Captain Eli had the kettle filled and 
 on the stove. Then they clapped on their 
 caps and their pea-jackets, each took an oar 
 from a corner in the back hall, and together 
 they ran down to the beach. 
 
 The night was dark, but not very cold, and 
 Captain Cephas had been to the store that 
 morning in his boat. Whenever he went to 
 the store, and the weather permitted, he 
 rowed there in his boat rather than walk. At 
 the bow of the boat, which was now drawn 
 up on the sand, the two men stood and 
 listened. Again came the cry from the sea. 
 
 " It s something ashore on the Turtle-back 
 Shoal," said Captain Cephas. 
 
 "Yes," said Captain Eli; "and it s some 
 small craft, for that cry is down pretty nigh 
 to the water." 
 
 " Yes," said Captain Cephas ; " and there s 
 only one man aboard, or else they d take 
 turns a-hollerin ." 
 
 "He s a stranger," said Captain Eli, "or 
 he wouldn t have tried, even with a catboat, 
 to get in over that shoal on ebb-tide." 
 
 As they spoke they ran the boat out into 
 
200 CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 
 
 the water and jumped in, eacli with an oar. 
 Then they pulled for the Turtle-back Shoal. 
 
 Although these two captains were rnen of 
 fifty or thereabout, they were as strong and 
 tough as any young fellows in the village, and 
 they pulled with steady strokes, and sent the 
 heavy boat skimming over the water, not in a 
 straight line toward the Turtle-back Shoal, 
 but now a few points in the darkness this 
 way, and now a few points in the darkness 
 that way, then with a great curve to the south 
 through the dark night, keeping always near 
 the middle of the only good channel out of 
 the bay when the tide was ebbing. 
 
 Now the cries from seaward had ceased, 
 but the two captains were not discouraged. 
 
 " He s heard the thumpin of our oars," 
 said Captain Cephas. 
 
 " He s listenin , and he ll sing out again if 
 he thinks we re goin wrong," said Captain 
 Eli ; " of course he don t know anything about 
 that." 
 
 And so when they made the sweep to the 
 south the cry came again, and Captain Eli 
 grinned. " We needn t to spend no breath 
 hollerin ," said he ; " he ll hear us makin for 
 him in a minute." 
 
CAPTAIN ELI S BEST EAR 201 
 
 When they came to head for the Shoal they 
 lay on their oars for a moment while Captain 
 Cephas turned the lantern in the bow, so that 
 its light shone out ahead. He had not wanted 
 the shipwrecked person to see the light when 
 it would seem as if the boat were rowing 
 away from him. He had heard of castaway 
 people who would get so wild when they 
 imagined that a ship or boat was going away 
 from them that they would jump overboard. 
 
 When the two captains reached the shoal, 
 they found there a catboat aground, with one 
 man aboard. His tale was quickly told. 
 He had expected to run into the little bay 
 that afternoon, but the wind had fallen, and 
 in trying to get in after dark, and being a 
 stranger, he had run aground. If he had not 
 been so cold, he said, he would have been 
 willing to stay there till the tide rose ; but he 
 was getting chilled, and seeing a light not 
 far away, he concluded to call for help as 
 long as his voice held out. 
 
 The two captains did not ask many ques 
 tions. They helped anchor the catboat, and 
 then they took the man on their boat and 
 rowed him to shore. He was getting chilled 
 sitting out there doing nothing, and so when 
 
202 CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 
 
 they reached the house they made him some 
 hot grog, and promised in the morning, when 
 the tide rose, they would go out and help 
 him bring his boat in. Then Captain Cephas 
 showed the stranger to a bunk, and they all 
 went to bed. Such experiences had not 
 enough of novelty to the good captains to 
 keep them awake five minutes. 
 
 In the morning they were all up very early, 
 and the stranger, who proved to be a seafar 
 ing man with bright blue eyes, said that, as 
 his catboat seemed to be riding all right at 
 its anchorage, he did not care to go out after 
 her just yet. Any time during flood-tide 
 would do for him, and he had some business 
 that he wanted to attend to as soon as pos 
 sible. 
 
 This suited the two captains very well, for 
 they wished to be on hand when the little 
 girl discovered her stocking. 
 
 " Can you tell me," said the stranger, as 
 he put on his cap, " where I can find a Mrs. 
 Trimmer, who lives in this village ? " 
 
 At these words all the sturdy stiffness 
 which, from his youth up, had characterized 
 the legs of Captain Eli entirely went out of 
 them, and he sat suddenly upon a bench. 
 
CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 203 
 
 For a few moments there was silence ; then 
 Captain Cephas, who thought some answer 
 should be made to the question, nodded his 
 head. 
 
 " I want to see her as soon I as can," said 
 the stranger. " I have come to see her on 
 particular business that will be a surprise to 
 her. I wanted to be here before Christmas 
 began, and that s the reason I took that cat- 
 boat from Stetford, because I thought I d 
 come quicker that way than by land. But 
 the wind fell, as I told you. If either one of 
 you would be good enough to pilot me to 
 where Mrs. Trimmer lives, or to any point 
 where I can get a sight of the place, I d be 
 obliged." 
 
 Captain Eli rose, and with hurried but un 
 steady steps went into the house (for they 
 had been upon the little piazza), and beckoned 
 to his friend to follow. The two men stood 
 in the kitchen and looked at each other. 
 The face of Captain Eli was of the hue of a 
 clam-shell. 
 
 " Go with him, Cap n," he said in a hoarse 
 whisper ; " I can t do it." 
 
 "To your house? " inquired the other. 
 
 " Of course ; take him to my house. There 
 
204 CAPTAIN ELfS BEST EAR 
 
 ain t no other place where she is. Take him 
 along." 
 
 Captain Cephas s countenance wore an air 
 of the deepest concern, but he thought that 
 the best thing to do was to get the stranger 
 away. 
 
 As they walked rapidly toward Captain 
 Eli s house there was very little said by 
 either Captain Cephas or the stranger. The 
 latter seemed anxious to give Mrs. Trimmer 
 a surprise, and not to say anything which 
 might enable another person to interfere with 
 his project. 
 
 The two men had scarcely stepped upon 
 the piazza when Mrs. Trimmer, who had been 
 expecting early visitors, opened the door. 
 She was about to call out " Merry Christmas ! " 
 but, her eyes falling upon a stranger, the 
 words stopped at her lips. First she turned 
 red, then she turned pale, and Captain Ce 
 phas thought she was about to fall ; but be 
 fore she could do this the stranger had her 
 in his arms. She opened her eyes, which for 
 a moment she had closed, and gazing into his 
 face, she put her arms around his neck. 
 Then Captain Cephas came away, without 
 thinking of the little girl and the pleasure 
 
CAPTAIN ELI S BEST EAR 205 
 
 she would have in discovering her Christmas 
 stocking. 
 
 When he had been left alone, Captain Eli 
 sat down near the kitchen stove, close to the 
 very kettle which he had filled with water to 
 heat for the benefit of the man he had helped 
 bring in from the sea, and, Avith his elbows 
 on his knees and his fingers in his hair, he 
 darkly pondered. 
 
 " If I d only slept with my hard-o -hearin 
 ear up," he said to himself, " I d never have 
 heard it." 
 
 In a few moments his better nature con 
 demned this thought. 
 
 "That s next to murder," he muttered; 
 "for he couldn t have kept himself from 
 fallin asleep out there in the cold and when 
 the tide riz he d have been blowed out to sea 
 with this wind. If I hadn t heard him, 
 Captain Cephas never would, for he wasn t 
 primed up to wake, as I was." 
 
 But, notwithstanding his better nature, 
 Captain Eli was again saying to himself, 
 when his friend returned, " If I d only slept 
 with my other ear up ! " 
 
 Like the honest, straightforward mariner 
 he was, Captain Cephas made an exact report 
 
206 CAPTAIN ELI S BEST EAR 
 
 of the facts. " They was huggin when I left 
 them," he said, " and I expect they went in 
 doors pretty soon, for it was too cold outside. 
 It s an all-fired shame she happened to be in 
 your house, Cap n ; that s all I ve got to say 
 about it. It s a thunderin shame." 
 
 Captain Eli made no answer. He still sat 
 with his elbows on his knees and his hands 
 in his hair. 
 
 " A better course than you laid down for 
 these Christmas times was never dotted on a 
 chart," continued Captain Cephas. "From 
 port of sailin to port of entry you laid it 
 down clear and fine ; but it seems there was 
 rocks that wasn t marked on the chart." 
 
 "Yes," groaned Captain Eli; "there was 
 rocks." 
 
 Captain Cephas made no attempt to com 
 fort his friend, but went to work to get break 
 fast. 
 
 "When that meal a rather silent one 
 was over, Captain Eli felt better. " There 
 was rocks," he said, " and not a breaker to 
 show where they lay, and I struck em bow 
 on. So that s the end of that voyage; but 
 I ve tuk to my boats, Cap n, I ve tuk to my 
 boats." 
 
CAPTAIN ELI S BEST EAR 207 
 
 " I m glad to hear you ve tuk to your 
 boats," said Captain Cephas, with an approv 
 ing glance upon his friend. 
 
 About ten minutes afterward Captain Eli 
 said, "I m goin up to my house." 
 
 " By yourself ? " said the other. 
 
 " Yes, by myself ; I d rather go alone. I 
 don t intend to mind anything, and I m goin* 
 to tell her that she can stay there and spend 
 Christmas, the place she lives in ain t no 
 place to spend Christmas, and she can make 
 the little gal have a good time, and go long 
 just as we intended to go long plum-duff 
 and mince-pie all the same ; and I can stay 
 here, and you and me can have our Christ 
 mas dinner together, if we choose to give it 
 that name. And if she ain t ready to go to 
 morrow, she can stay a day or two longer ; 
 it s all the same to me, if it s the same to 
 you, Cap n." 
 
 And Captain Cephas having said that it was 
 the same to him, Captain Eli put on his cap 
 and buttoned up his pea-jacket, declaring 
 that the sooner he got to his house the bet 
 ter, as she might be thinking that she would 
 have to move out of it now that things were 
 different. 
 
208 CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 
 
 Before Captain Eli readied his house he 
 saw something which pleased him. He saw 
 the sea-going stranger, with his back toward 
 him, walking rapidly in the direction of the 
 village store. 
 
 Captain Eli quickly entered his house, and 
 in the doorway of the room where the tree 
 was he met Mrs. Trimmer, beaming brighter 
 than any morning sun that ever rose. 
 
 " Merry Christmas ! " she exclaimed, hold 
 ing out both her hands. "I ve been wonder 
 ing and wondering when you d come to bid 
 me Merry Christmas the merriest Christ 
 mas I ve ever had." 
 
 Captain Eli took her hands and bid her 
 " Merry Christmas " very gravely. She looked 
 a little surprised. " What s the matter, Cap 
 tain Eli ? " she exclaimed. " You don t seem 
 to say that as if you meant it." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I do," he answered ; " this must 
 be an all-fired I mean a thumlerin happy 
 Christmas for you, Mrs. Trimmer." 
 
 "Yes," said she, her face beaming again. 
 "And to think that it should happen on 
 Christmas-day that this blessed morning, 
 before anything else happened, my Bob, my 
 only brother, should 
 
CAPTAIN ELI S BEST EAR 209 
 
 " Your what ! " roared Captain Eli, as if lie 
 had been shouting orders in a raging storm. 
 
 Mrs. Trimmer stepped back almost fright 
 ened. " My brother," said she. "Didn t he 
 tell you he was my brother my brother 
 Bob, who sailed away a year before I was 
 married, and who has been in Africa and 
 China and I don t know where ? It s so long 
 since I heard that he d gone into trading at 
 Singapore that I d given him up as married 
 and settled in foreign parts ; and here he has 
 come to me as if he d tumbled from the sky 
 on this blessed Christmas morning." 
 
 Captain Eli made a step forward, his face 
 very much flushed. 
 
 " Your brother, Mrs. Trimmer did you 
 really say it was your brother ? " 
 
 "Of course it is," said she. "Who else 
 could it be ? " Then she paused for a mo 
 ment and looked steadfastly at the captain. 
 
 "You don t mean to say, Captain Eli," she 
 asked, " that you thought it was 
 
 " Yes, I did," said Captain Eli, promptly. 
 
 Mrs. Trimmer looked straight in the cap 
 tain s eyes, then she looked on the ground. 
 Then she changed color and changed back 
 again. 
 
210 CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 
 
 " I don t understand," she said, hesitating 
 ly, " why I mean what difference it made." 
 
 " Difference," exclaimed Captain Eli. " It 
 was all the difference between a man on deck 
 and a man overboard that s the difference it 
 was to me. I didn t expect to be talkin to 
 you so early this Christmas mornin , but 
 things has been sprung on me, and I can t 
 help it. I just want to ask you one thing : 
 Did you think I was gettin up this Christ 
 mas-tree and the Christmas dinner and the 
 whole business for the good of the little gal, 
 and for the good of you, and for the good of 
 Captain Cephas ? " 
 
 Mrs. Trimmer had now recovered a very 
 fair possession of herself. " Of course I did," 
 she answered, looking up at him as she spoke. 
 "Who else could it have been for? " 
 
 " Well," said he, " you were mistaken. It 
 wasn t for any one of you ; it was all for me 
 for my own self." 
 
 " You yourself ? " said she. " I don t see 
 how." 
 
 " But I see how," he answered. " It s been 
 a long time since I wanted to speak my mind 
 to you, Mrs. Trimmer, but I didn t ever have 
 no chance ; and all these Christmas doin s 
 
CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 211 
 
 was got up to give me the chance not only of 
 speakin to you, but of showin my colors bet 
 ter than I could show them in any other way ; 
 and everything went on a-skimrnin till this 
 mornin , when that stranger that we brought 
 in from the shoal piped up and asked for 
 you. Then I went overboard at least I 
 thought I did and sunk down, down, clean 
 out of soundin s." 
 
 "That was too bad, Captain," said she, 
 speaking very gently, " after all your trouble 
 and kindness." 
 
 "But I don t know now," he continued, 
 " whether I went overboard or Avhether I am 
 on deck. Can you tell me, Mrs. Trimmer ? " 
 
 She looked up at him ; her eyes were very 
 soft, and her lips trembled just a little. " It 
 seerns to me, Captain," she said, " that you 
 are on deck if you want to be." 
 
 The captain stepped closer to her. " Mrs. 
 Trimmer," said he, " is that brother of yours 
 comin back ? " 
 
 " Yes," she answered, surprised at the sud 
 den question. " He s just gone up to the 
 store to buy a shirt and some things. He 
 got himself splashed trying to push his boat 
 off last night." 
 
212 CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 
 
 "Well, then," said Captain Eli, "would 
 you mind tellin him when he comes back 
 that you and me s engaged to be married? 
 I don t know whether I ve made a mistake in 
 the lights or not, but would you mind tellin 
 him that?" 
 
 Mrs. Trimmer looked at him. Her eyes 
 were not so soft as they had been, but they 
 were brighter. "I d rather you d tell him 
 that yourself," said she. 
 
 The little girl sat on the floor near the 
 Christmas tree, just finishing a large piece of 
 red-and- white candy which she had taken out 
 of her stocking. "People do hug a lot at 
 Christmas-time," said she to herself. Then 
 she drew out a piece of blue-and-white candy 
 and began on that. 
 
 Captain Cephas waited a long time for his 
 friend to return, and at last he thought it 
 would be well to go and look for him. When 
 he entered the house he found Mrs. Trimmer 
 sitting on the sofa in the. parlor, with Captain 
 Eli on one side of her and her brother on the 
 other, and each of them holding one of her 
 hands. 
 
 "It looks as if I was in port, don t it ? " said 
 Captain Eli to his astonished friend. " Well, 
 
CAPTAIN ELPS BEST EAR 213 
 
 here I am, and here s my fust mate," inclining 
 his head toward Mrs. Trimmer. " And she s 
 in port too, safe and sound ; and that strange 
 captain on the other side of her, he s her 
 brother Bob, who s been away for years and 
 years, and is just home from Madagascar." 
 
 " Singapore," amended brother Bob. 
 
 Captain Cephas looked from one to the 
 other of the three occupants of the sofa, but 
 made no immediate remark. Presently a 
 smile of genial maliciousness stole over his 
 face, and he asked, "How about the poor 
 little gal ? Have you sent her back to Mrs. 
 Crumley s?" 
 
 The little girl came out from behind the 
 Christinas tree, her stocking, now but half 
 filled, in her hand. " Here I am," she said. 
 " Don t you want to give me a Christmas hug, 
 Captain Cephas ? You and me s the only ones 
 that hasn t had any." 
 
 The Christmas dinner was as truly and per 
 fectly a sailor-cooked meal as ever was served 
 on board a ship or off it. Captain Cephas 
 had said that, and when he had so spoken 
 there was no need of further words. 
 
 It was nearly dark that afternoon, and they 
 were all sitting around the kitchen fire, the 
 
214 CAPTAIN ELP8 BEST EAR 
 
 three seafaring men smoking, and Mrs. Trim 
 mer greatly enjoying it. There could be no 
 objection to the smell of tobacco in this house 
 so long as its future mistress enjoyed it. 
 The little girl sat on the floor nursing a 
 Chinese idol which had been one of her pres 
 ents. 
 
 " After all," said Captain Eli, meditatively, 
 " this whole business come out of my sleepin 
 with my best ear up ; for if I d slept with my 
 hard-o -hearin ear up" Mrs. Trimmer put 
 one finger on his lips. " All right," said Cap 
 tain Eli, " I won t say no more ; but it would 
 have been different." 
 
 Even now, several years after that Christ 
 mas, when there is no Mrs. Trimmer, and the 
 little girl, who has been regularly adopted by 
 Captain Eli and his wife, is studying geog 
 raphy, and knows more about latitude and 
 longitude than her teacher at school, Captain 
 Eli has still a slight superstitious dread of 
 sleeping with his best ear uppermost. 
 
 "Of course it s the most all-fired non 
 sense," he says to himself over and over 
 again. Nevertheless, he feels safer when it 
 is his "hard-o -hearin ear" that is not upon 
 the pillow. 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 IT was a beautiful, quiet August morning 
 and I lay in a hammock looking up at 
 the blue and cloudless sky. The hammock 
 was hung between two trees on the back 
 lawn of my father s country house. A few 
 hundred feet to the right the roof and chim 
 neys of the house rose above the tree tops, 
 At the foot of the lawn, not quite so far away, 
 a little river ran. I could not see it, but now 
 and then I heard the gurgle of the water, and 
 this, with the singing and chirping of the 
 birds and the occasional chatter of a red 
 squirrel in a tree near by, were all the sounds 
 I heard upon that quiet morning. 
 
 Gazing upward past the nearest tree tops 
 I saw against the sky a little black spot. 
 This was odd and I waved my hand in front 
 of my face, thinking it might be some fly or 
 insect near me, but it was nothing of the 
 kind. It was a spot in the sky. I moved 
 
218 A3 ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 iny head from side to side but I could see it 
 only in one place. It was not the effect of 
 disordered vision, it was not fancy, it was 
 really a spot against the sky. 
 
 I sat up in my hammock and gazed stead 
 fastly at the distant speck, and as I looked I 
 could see that it was growing larger. In less 
 than ten minutes I saw that it was a balloon, 
 and that it was slowly approaching in my di 
 rection, and also descending. I ran out on 
 the open lawn to get a better view of it. 
 There was a very gentle wind, and this blew 
 directly in my face as I looked at the balloon. 
 I believed that it would pass over the lawn. 
 
 I became very much interested, even ex 
 cited, and the more so because I now per 
 ceived that it was a small balloon, entirely 
 too small to sustain the weight of a man. If 
 it had been an ordinary balloon with an oc 
 cupant, it might have been interesting to hail 
 him as he passed over my head, but here was 
 something that came floating out of the sky 
 toward me, and which I might secure as a 
 prize if I could follow it until it came to 
 earth. 
 
 Nearer and nearer it approached, and I 
 could plainly see the little basket which hung 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 219 
 
 beneath the partly distended bag. The wild 
 desire seized me to capture this air-ship. As 
 I hastily considered my chances they did not 
 appear encouraging. The wind, though light, 
 was steady, and there was every reason to be 
 lieve that the balloon would be carried across 
 the river, and might not touch the earth until 
 it had gone a long distance on the other side. 
 If I crossed the river I might be able to keep 
 up with the balloon, but I suddenly remem 
 bered that this would be impossible because 
 my younger brother Richard had gone fishing 
 in the boat. He had started to fly a kite I had 
 made him, but the wind had not been strong 
 enough and he had taken to the water. 
 
 As I hurried down to the river I could not 
 see or hear the boat, but by the wall at the 
 bottom of the lawn I saw Richard s kite, and 
 near by a basket in which he kept his fishing 
 tackle. A thought struck me ; I ran down to 
 the wall and turned over the basket and 
 spread its contents on the ground. Among 
 them I found three large fish-hooks which the 
 youngster had used at the seashore. Then I 
 sprang to the kite ; the wind was fresher now. 
 With all the nervous earnestness of a boy 
 I bound the three hooks, back to back and 
 
220 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 points downward, to the cord a few feet below 
 the point where it was fastened to the kite, 
 and then, the kite in one hand, and the ball 
 of cord in the other, I ran out into the open 
 and looked up. Not far away, on the other 
 side of the house, but still high above the 
 tree tops, I saw the balloon steadily moving 
 toward me. It would certainly cross the 
 river, it might sail on for hours. I set the 
 kite against the wind ; I tossed it up ; I ran. 
 In a few seconds it caught the breeze, steadied 
 itself and began to rise. On I ran toward the 
 house, and higher and higher rose the kite. 
 If I could only get it high enough ; if I could 
 hook it on to that balloon I should be as 
 happy as a deer stalker who brings down 
 a stag. 
 
 The kite went up grandly, high over the 
 river, higher and higher, and I ran this way 
 and that to bring it in line with the balloon. 
 I let out more cord ; the kite, like a hawk, 
 was now soaring far above its quarry. If I 
 could bring the cord against the balloon ; if 
 those hooks would catch ; if they would take 
 such good hold of some of the netting or of 
 the basket so that I might pull it down ! In 
 my excitement and with my eyes ever aloft, I 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 221 
 
 fell over a little bush, but it did not matter ; I 
 was up in an instant and the kite made but a 
 few flaps before I had it steady again. 
 
 The balloon had now passed over my head 
 and was not far from the cord. I ran a few 
 steps to the right and then pulled down. The 
 cord almost touched it. I pulled down hard 
 er. I could feel a little thump upon the cord 
 and then the balloon moved gently away 
 from the kite. 
 
 I let out more cord and ran toward the 
 river. The kite rose again. I pulled it down. 
 "With eyes fixed as though I were aiming a 
 rifle I moved the cord so that it might again 
 touch the balloon. It did touch ; I pulled it 
 sharply ; the hooks caught in the netting 
 over the bag and held ! What a bound my 
 heart gave ! Had I been my young brother 
 I could not have breathed more triumphantly. 
 
 But I had not yet secured my prize. The 
 cord, though light, was a strong one, but 
 there was now a great strain upon it. Al 
 though the balloon was small, with the bag 
 but partly filled with gas, it presented a con 
 siderable surface to the wind, and I soon be 
 gan to fear that the cord would break before 
 I could pull down both the balloon and the 
 
222 A3 ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 kite, but in a moment I saw that the bag was 
 collapsing, and the strain upon the cord was 
 becoming much less. I could easily imagine 
 what had happened. One or more of the 
 hooks had torn the silk of the balloon, and 
 as gas escaped through .fche rent it was falling 
 by its own weight. 
 
 Down, down it came, pulling the kite with 
 it, and all I had to do was to draw in the 
 cord and direct my descending prize toward 
 an open spot where it would not catch on the 
 boughs of trees. 
 
 Still down it came, and as if I had pulled 
 in an aerial fish, I soon beheld the whole 
 affair lying on the grass at my feet. 
 
 For a moment I stood and gazed, but in 
 the whole jumbled mass I paid attention to 
 nothing but a small basket with a piece of 
 waterproof cloth tied over the top. I ap 
 proached it and then I stopped to consider. 
 I felt a strong desire to inspect the secret of 
 that basket alone. Fortunately my mother 
 and father were away and my sister had gone 
 to visit some neighbors. Kichard was boat 
 ing, but he might return at any moment. I 
 jerked out my knife and cut the basket loose 
 from the cords, and then, taking it under my 
 
A8 ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 223 
 
 arm, I ran to the house and up-stairs to my 
 room, where I locked myself in. 
 
 With trembling hands and eager curiosity 
 I removed the cover from the basket. The 
 first thing I saw was a small cage containing 
 a pigeon. I took this out and set it on the 
 floor, the bird cooing and turning itself around 
 as if it were glad to see a human being. Then 
 I perceived a wooden framework, in which 
 were set some instruments, thermometers, 
 barometers, and I do not know what. On 
 the top of this was attached a stout envelope 
 on which was written : "To the person who 
 finds this balloon." 
 
 It took me but a few seconds to release the 
 envelope. It was not sealed and I opened it 
 and drew out a letter. This surprised me. As 
 soon as I had noticed the instruments secure 
 ly fastened to the framework I had suspected 
 that this balloon had been sent up by some 
 scientific person and that the envelope con 
 tained technical directions to the finder. But 
 here was a letter on two sheets of cream- 
 colored note paper, and evidently written by 
 a lady. I glanced at the end of it. It had no 
 signature, and then, still seated on the floor, 
 I read it : 
 
224 A3 ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 " Whoever you may be who shall find this 
 letter I beg and implore you to read it care 
 fully and then to do what you can to assist a 
 fellow-being who can ask no one in the world 
 but yourself to help her. I cannot write 
 everything in this letter, but I will put in all 
 that I can. I am an unfortunate girl who is 
 suffering great misery, and who is cut off 
 from all the world by a cruelty which would 
 take a long time to describe. All I can say 
 here is that my uncle, who has been ap 
 pointed my guardian and the trustee of my 
 property, has kept me for months and months 
 and months as a close prisoner. I never go off 
 the premises and I never see anybody but 
 him and one or two servants. I am not 
 allowed to send any letters that are not first 
 examined by him, and my situation is getting 
 to be more dreadful every day. 
 
 " It will not be long before I shall go crazy. 
 I have tried ever so many ways of getting 
 news of my situation to somebody in the 
 outside world, but I have failed, and now I 
 try this, which is my last chance. My uncle 
 is a very learned man and is always making 
 experiments. He sends up balloons with in 
 struments in them, which register heat and 
 
A3 ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 225 
 
 cold and height, and all sorts of things. He 
 always puts in his balloon a letter to the per 
 son who shall find it when it comes down, 
 asking that person to look at the instruments 
 and set down whatever they register. He 
 also tells him to take out the pigeon which is 
 in the cage and remove from its wing a roll 
 of very thin paper. Then he asks that the 
 registrations be written 011 this paper, and 
 that it shall be tied on the pigeon s wing just 
 as it was before ; after which the pigeon is to 
 be set at liberty, when it will immediately 
 fly back to him. He also sends his address 
 and requests that a letter be written to him 
 giving all sorts of information on a printed 
 form which he incloses. But he wants the 
 pigeon sent first, because the balloon may 
 come down at some place which is very far 
 from a post-office. 
 
 " My plan is this, and if you get this let 
 ter you will know that it has succeeded. He 
 sends up his balloons from a courtyard 
 which is under my window, and one of the 
 first things he does is to tie his letter to the 
 instrument frame, and the last thing he does 
 is to go and get the pigeon. While he is 
 away doing this I shall slip down to the 
 
226 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 court, take out his letter and put in mine, 
 and then pray that it may go to some good 
 soul who will help me. 
 
 " What I want you to do is this : first make 
 up your mind whether or not you are will 
 ing to help a poor unfortunate girl, shut off 
 from all other help by a sky above her 
 which she cannot reach, an earth below her 
 which she cannot penetrate, and walls all 
 about her which she cannot get through. If 
 you are willing to do what you can for me 
 please take the paper from the pigeon s wing 
 and write your name and address upon it, 
 and then tie it on as it was before. But if 
 you are not willing to help me, and do not 
 wish to put yourself to trouble by meddling 
 in the affairs of an utter stranger, please at 
 least be kind enough not to write anything 
 on the paper which might let my uncle know 
 what I have done, but let the pigeon come 
 back just as it is. 
 
 " I am almost sure it will come to me be 
 fore he sees it, for I have fed this bird for a 
 long time on the balcony under my window, 
 and I shall watch for it by day and by night. 
 But if my uncle should get it first he will 
 see nothing but your address or the empty 
 
A3 ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 227 
 
 paper, and so lie will not know what I have 
 done. If I first get the pigeon and find 
 your name on it, I will immediately write to 
 you, asking you to send me some drawing 
 material or something of that kind, and 
 give my name and address. That sort of 
 letter my uncle will let pass. I do not send 
 my address now because I am afraid to do 
 so until I really know of some person who is 
 willing I should send it. 
 
 " Now when you get my note I implore 
 you to come to the little town where I live 
 and find out where my uncle s house is. 
 You can easily do this, for everybody knows 
 him. Then please, I beg of you, try to see 
 me. There is a large garden at the back of 
 the house and a high wall all around it. 
 After I hear from you I shall be there as 
 much as I can. You cannot make a mistake, 
 for I am the only young person in the house. 
 Even if it should rain I will go out with a 
 mackintosh. And now, without knowing 
 who you are, I put my happiness, my fort 
 une, and I may even say the possession of 
 my senses, into your charge, for I know if you 
 will make my situation known to the proper 
 persons I shall soon be free and happy." 
 
228 A8 ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 For a long time after I read this letter I 
 sat on the floor holding it in my hand. 
 What a message to come to me out of the 
 clear August sky ! How glad I was that no 
 body but myself had seen the balloon, and 
 that I could sit here and consider the matter 
 without interference. While thinking thus 
 I was reminded that I was not alone, and 
 that there was another party who had an 
 interest in the proceedings. This was the 
 pigeon, who began to coo louder and louder 
 and to turn itself around with considerable 
 vigor. 
 
 I laid down the letter and picked up the 
 cage, and as I put my hand under it to raise 
 it, so that I could better look at the pigeon s 
 wing, I felt that the bottom of the cage was 
 very warm, and on examining it I found that 
 the bottom was a double one and contained 
 a long bag of fine charcoal, which, on being 
 lighted at one end, would burn for many 
 hours, after the manner of the little Japanese 
 stoves. This, no doubt, was to protect the 
 pigeon against the extreme cold of high alti 
 tudes. The wicked uncle must indeed be an 
 ingenious and practical man. 
 
 I did not look at the instruments ; my 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 229 
 
 mind was too much excited by the letter to 
 allow me to examine their registrations. I 
 was entirely occupied with the question: 
 " What shall I do for the writer of this let 
 ter ? " I could not believe it was a hoax be 
 cause no one wishing to play a joke would 
 send up such a balloon with those expensive 
 instruments. 
 
 I thought for a moment of waiting until 
 some of the family returned, and taking 
 counsel of them, but this idea I quickly re 
 jected. If I were going to do anything I 
 ought to do it now. If there really should 
 be a young woman who needed help she was 
 waiting and watching for the return of that 
 pigeon. If it should prove to be nothing 
 but a joke I would rather be laughed at for 
 doing what I thought was a good action 
 than to have my conscience reproach me for 
 being a coward, afraid of being laughed at. 
 
 Now that my decision was made I drew 
 the pigeon from the cage, took off the paper, 
 noticing how it was rolled and tied, wrote on 
 it my name and address, attached it again to 
 the wing of the bird, and then, going to the 
 window, threw the pigeon into the air. For 
 a few minutes it flew round and round, then 
 
230 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 it mounted high and disappeared over the 
 tops of the trees. 
 
 " It has gone to her," I said, and I sat 
 down and read the letter over again. 
 
 Suddenly I thought of the balloon on the 
 grass. Why should any one know of this 
 thing but myself, at least until I chose to 
 make it known? I ran down to the lawn 
 and disengaged the kite, and then, rolling up 
 the balloon-bag with its netting, I carried it 
 to a corner of the grounds and concealed it 
 under a heavy hedge. Then I took Eichard s 
 kite to the river-wall and restored all his 
 possessions to the condition in which I had 
 found them. 
 
 Now all traces of my messenger from the 
 sky having been removed and my answer to 
 the message having been despatched, I sat 
 upon the wall to think more about it, and 
 while doing so my mind became deeply, and, 
 I may say, not altogether pleasantly, im 
 pressed by the remembrance that I was en 
 gaged to be married. This, of course, had 
 never been anything but a most delightful 
 remembrance, but just now it did not seem 
 to fit into the condition of things. Perhaps 
 I ought to have remembered it sooner. 
 
GOING TO THE WINDOW, I THREW THE PIGEON INTO THE AIR. 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 231 
 
 What would Clara Markham think of my 
 offering to become the knight-errant for the 
 benefit of another young lady ? That this 
 lady s name and habitation were unknown 
 would make no difference, and if it should 
 prove that no such lady existed it would still 
 make no difference, for I had assumed her to 
 be a real person, suffering real hardships, 
 and had, in fact, offered myself as her protec 
 tor. The more I thought of Clara Markham 
 in connection with what I had done the 
 more my thoughts troubled me. One thing 
 was clear to me : I had no right to keep this 
 affair a secret from her. So, that afternoon, 
 I rode over to her father s house, about two 
 miles distant, and being fortunate enough to 
 find Clara at home, I conducted her to a se 
 cluded spot on the ground, and there I as 
 tonished her as I think she was never aston 
 ished before. With her eyes very wide open 
 she sat and looked at me. 
 
 " If it had been anybody but you, Tom," 
 she exclaimed, " had told me this, I would 
 not have believed it ! I would not have be 
 lieved there had been any balloon, any pig 
 eon, any letter. But what you tell me, I be 
 lieve, no matter what it is." 
 
232 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 To this I replied properly and added that 
 I expected her always to do so. 
 
 " But there is one thing I do not believe," 
 she went on to say, " and that is that there 
 is any young lady at all in the matter, or if 
 there is that she is in trouble and needs as 
 sistance. I think it is all a hoax, and we need 
 not consider it or talk about it any more." 
 
 " But, my dear girl," said I, " I have sent 
 my name to the writer of that letter, and in 
 so doing I have given her a promise that I 
 will help her. Of course it all may be a hoax, 
 but suppose it is not, would you like to think 
 that I had positively declined to help a fellow- 
 being in distress ? Would you like to con 
 sider me that sort of a man ? " 
 
 "Of course not," said Clara. "If she is 
 a real person and needs help she ought to be 
 helped, but there are other people besides you 
 who can do it." 
 
 " Who, for instance ? J I asked. 
 
 " There is my cousin Charles," she said. 
 
 Now, above all people in this world I hated 
 that cousin Charles. He was in the habit of 
 mingling with the Markham family as if he 
 belonged to it, and I had often been jealous 
 of him in regard to Clara, and now it seemed 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 233 
 
 as if I were even more jealous of him in re 
 gard to this unknown girl, to whom, perhaps, 
 the pigeon had, even now, carried my mes 
 sage. 
 
 " No," said I, a little too decidedly per 
 chance, " your cousin would not do. I have 
 sent my name in good faith, and whatever 
 happens I shall act in a straightforward and 
 honest way, telling you everything that I do 
 and taking your advice about it. But your 
 cousin would either make fun of the whole 
 affair or else anyway it would, in fact, be a 
 breach of confidence for me to pass over the 
 management of this affair to anyone else 
 until the writer of that letter should authorize 
 me to do so. I found the balloon ; I am the 
 person to whom she wrote, that is to say " 
 (here a happy thought struck me) " you and I 
 are the persons to whom she wrote, and it is 
 to us that she appeals for help. Now, are we 
 going to throw her over even before we know 
 who she is ? " 
 
 At this Clara s countenance began to clear 
 a little. 
 
 " That is true," she said ; " you and I are 
 the persons who have this case in our 
 hands." 
 
234: A3 ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 "And whatever happens we will keep the 
 whole matter a secret between ourselves," I 
 said. 
 
 It was three clays after this conversation 
 that, walking on the lawn, I saw our man 
 bringing the mail-bag from the post-office. 
 As had happened on the two preceding 
 mornings I met him at the gate and looked 
 into the bag to see if there were any letters 
 for me. This morning there were several 
 letters addressed to me, and among them one 
 in the handwriting of the balloon lady. I 
 put this in my pocket and tore open the 
 others, but I am sure I did not know then, 
 nor have I ever since known, what was in 
 them. I went to my room and opened my 
 letter. As I did so I said to myself that I 
 ought not to be so interested in this corre 
 spondence. But I was interested so much so 
 that I cut my finger with the knife with which 
 I opened the envelope. 
 
 The following is an exact copy of the note 
 I read : 
 
 August 17, 1891. 
 MR. THOMAS W. GRANT, 
 
 Dear Sir : Having seen your advertisement of music 
 for the guitar I beg you will send me the pieces Nos. 39, 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 235 
 
 102 and 68. I inclose a postal note for the amount, 
 
 ninety-five cents. 
 
 Yours truly, 
 
 GRACE SOMERVILLE ROSLEY, 
 Care George R. Rosley, Esq., 
 
 Wolverton, Hunterdon Co., 
 New Jersey. 
 
 "Well ! well ! " said I, " she is as practical- 
 minded as her uncle. Think of her putting 
 in that postal note ! What a capital idea ! 
 The most suspicious person would never im 
 agine that this letter had been sent to one 
 whom she had called upon to act as her pro 
 tector, her knight-errant. Of course the pig 
 eon went to her first, for had her uncle re 
 ceived my address there would have been no 
 reason for his giving it to her. Everything 
 has gone well, and now what am I to do ? " 
 As I asked myself this question my conscience 
 again reproached me for taking so much in 
 terest in the matter, but I turned severely 
 on my conscience and asked it, in turn, if it 
 were not possible for a man to truly love one 
 woman and yet feel desirous of helping an 
 other woman in sore distress ? If these two 
 things were incompatible, no man should love. 
 At this, I am happy to say, my conscience 
 was completely humbled and said no more. 
 
236 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 But when I took the note I had received to 
 Clara she said a great deal. She took much 
 interest in the matter, even more, I thought, 
 than I did, and in my opinion entirely too 
 much. 
 
 " I believe," said she, " that the writer of 
 this is a person accustomed to deception. I 
 do not see how she could bring herself to say 
 she had seen your advertisement, and then to 
 send you money ! It is a positive insult ! 
 How much better it would have been if she 
 had written plainly and honestly what she 
 had to say, without all these tricks." 
 
 With a sigh at the obtuseness of the female 
 intellect I explained to Clara that if Miss 
 Rosley had written a plain, straightforward 
 letter her uncle would not have allowed her 
 to send it. Nothing but a simple business 
 note like this would have passed his sus 
 picious scrutiny. The inclosing of the postal 
 note was I was about to say a stroke of 
 genius, but I changed this expression to the 
 most prudent thing possible. 
 
 " When a person is a prisoner and guarded 
 with cruel watchfulness," I said, " subterfuges 
 are necessary and right. Would you hesitate 
 if you were cruelly imprisoned, and wished 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 237 
 
 to communicate with me, to resort to a sub 
 terfuge?" 
 
 " I do not believe in such imprisonments 
 in this enlightened age, and in this country," 
 said she; "it is nonsense to suppose that 
 there are such things." 
 
 " It does seem so," I answered, " but every 
 thing is possible, and supposing that this 
 young lady s story should be true, how could 
 we reconcile it to our consciences if we totally 
 disregard her second appeal to us for help?" 
 
 Clara did not immediately answer. Her 
 mind seemed disturbed. 
 
 " Of course she ought to be helped," she 
 said, " but you are not the person to do it. 
 Why couldn t I go to her and hear what she 
 has to say ? " 
 
 "You! "said I. " Impossible. Wolverton 
 is a long way from here, and, besides, you 
 could not go about alone asking for Mr. 
 Eosley s house, and even manage to get an 
 undisturbed interview with his niece." 
 
 " I would rather do that than have you do 
 it," she said, "but it is not necessary for me 
 to go alone. Cousin Charles could go with 
 me." 
 
 " If your cousin goes," said I, a little sharp- 
 
238 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 ly, for this remark annoyed me very much, 
 "he would better go by himself. But I do 
 not want him to have anything to do with it. 
 This is my affair." 
 
 " And mine," said she. 
 
 "Yes," I assented, "it is ours. But," I 
 added, "although I came to you with it and 
 laid the whole thing before you exactly as I 
 knew it myself, trusting you as I always do 
 in everything, you do not seem in the least 
 willing to trust me." 
 
 At this Clara s eyes became a little dim. 
 "Tom," she said, putting her hand on my 
 arm, " you have no right to say that." And 
 then for ten minutes our conversation be 
 came strictly personal. When this inter 
 change of sentiments had been satisfactorily 
 concluded, Clara suddenly exclaimed : 
 
 " Tell me, Tom, what it is that you think 
 you ought to do. Have you thought of any 
 plan?" 
 
 " It is all as simple as can be," I answered ; 
 " there is no plan but one. I go to Wolver- 
 ton and I find out where Mr. Eosley s house 
 is. Then I walk toward it and around the 
 back of it, on some elevated ground where I 
 can look over the wall, for, of course, if there 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 239 
 
 were not such a place she could not expect 
 any one to see her in the garden, and then if 
 I see a young lady I will approach the garden 
 and speak to her, probably through a grated 
 gate. I will ask her to tell me her story as 
 quickly as possible, and, after making some 
 inquiries in the village, by which, with 
 out exciting suspicion, I can find out some 
 thing about the Eosley family, I will return 
 to you and tell you all about it. Then we 
 can decide whether or not we ought to in 
 form the legal authorities or her distant 
 friends, if she has any, of the state of her 
 case, or let the whole thing drop." 
 
 " You must have been thinking a great deal 
 about it," she said quickly, " to have such a 
 plan as that so pat and ready to carry out. 
 But I am not going to find fault with you ; I 
 know you have one of the quickest of minds. 
 Of course your plan is the proper one, and I 
 would approve of it in every way if it were 
 Mr. Eosley s nephew who was imprisoned, but 
 a young girl in a sequestered garden, that is 
 dreadfully different 1 " 
 
 I replied loftily, " To me she would be 
 simply a human being her sex, her age, her 
 appearance would be nothing to me. I would 
 
240 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 consider only her sufferings, and would not 
 even consider my ability to relieve her. I 
 would consult you about that." 
 
 " Tom," said Clara, " I do not suppose that 
 I really can go to talk to that girl, which is 
 what I want to do, but do you think that you 
 could go to her as I would, feeling all the 
 time that you were filling my place, and that 
 you could speak to her, and listen to her, as 
 one woman to another ? " 
 
 I did not hesitate a moment. " Clara ! " I 
 exclaimed, " I believe that I could." 
 
 " Then, Tom," said the noble girl, " you 
 can go." 
 
 There was no chance to say or do more, 
 for we saw persons approaching from the 
 house. 
 
 The next morning I took an early train for 
 Wolverton. I determined to be very cautious 
 about this business, and if I should find there 
 were no Mr. Eosley, and consequently no 
 young lady in a garden, I would quietly re 
 turn without giving anyone a chance to make 
 fun of me. 
 
 Wolverton was a small village, and as I 
 took some refreshments at the inn I asked 
 some very natural questions of the innkeeper 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 241 
 
 about the village and some of its principal 
 residents. 
 
 I was disappointed that he did not men 
 tion the only name I cared to hear, but on 
 my remarking that I had heard a scientific 
 gentleman lived in the place, he answered : 
 
 " Oh, you must mean Mr. Eosley, but he 
 doesn t live in the village. His house is about 
 a mile out." 
 
 "In what direction ? " I asked, carelessly, 
 and while the innkeeper was giving me the 
 information I endeavored to suppress the ex 
 citement caused by the knowledge that I was 
 really on the right track. 
 
 As soon as I could decently do so I paid 
 my little bill and sauntered out. I know the 
 man took me for a book agent, but I was very 
 well satisfied that he should do so. 
 
 The Kosley place was an old-fashioned one. 
 The house faced the main road, but stood 
 well back from it, and a narrow lane, at right 
 angles with the main road, passed the house 
 at no great distance, and as I walked along 
 this lane I could see through a bushy hedge 
 a courtyard, lying in an angle of the man 
 sion. 
 
 " That is the place where he sends up his 
 
242 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 balloons," I said to myself ; " her window 
 must look out on it." 
 
 Passing still farther on my heart fairly 
 bounded when I perceived behind the house 
 the high wall of a garden. 
 
 As I passed the long side wall I saw that 
 it had no gate nor opening, and when I 
 reached the end of it I found that the garden 
 backed upon a field planted with corn. On 
 the outside of the back wall was a row of 
 cedar-trees. 
 
 Looking about me and finding that no one 
 was in sight I got into the cornfield and ap 
 proached the garden. I passed along the 
 whole of the back wall but found no door nor 
 grating. I peeped around the corner to the 
 other side and saw there was a door there 
 but it was of solid plank and too near the 
 house. When my unknown correspondent 
 wrote to me that I would see her in the gar 
 den, it evidently had not entered her head to 
 inform me how I should see her. The neigh 
 boring elevation from which I had imagined 
 I might look down into the garden did not 
 exist, and the only way in which I could see 
 into it was to look over the back wall, where I 
 would myself be protected from observation. 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 243 
 
 This would not be difficult if I could manage 
 to climb into one of the cedar-trees which 
 stood on the outer side of the wall. 
 
 The position in which I found myself while 
 I was quietly surveying Mr. Eosley s walled 
 garden, with the intention of getting into it 
 if I could do so, was not altogether satisfac 
 tory. I felt as if I were engaged in a sly and 
 underhand business. Clandestine methods 
 are allowable in war and love, but I was not 
 engaged in either of these pursuits, besides 
 I was endeavoring to speak to a young lady 
 as a woman would speak to her. Would a 
 woman have climbed into a tree to talk with 
 her? 
 
 However, I could not burden my mind with 
 such casuistries. I had come to do a thing 
 and I must do it. 
 
 I quietly climbed into a tree and very 
 cautiously projected my head above the wall. 
 I looked into a garden with flower-beds, 
 paths bordered with high rows of box, masses 
 of shrubbery here and there, and a heavily 
 shaded arbor, but I saw no human being. 
 Some of the branches of the tree in which I 
 was standing rested on the top of the wall so 
 that I looked through them without danger 
 
244: A3 ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 of being seen. I looked and I looked and I 
 looked, but there was nothing I cared to see 
 and my heart grew heavier and heavier. At 
 one time I thought of going boldly to the 
 front door and asking for Miss Kosley. I 
 might thus, at least, find out if such a person 
 existed, and if this were so I might even 
 manage in the presence of witnesses to talk 
 to her about the music she had ordered and 
 thus let her know who I was. 
 
 Suddenly, and with such startling effect 
 that I almost slipped out of the tree, there 
 appeared before me an apparition. It was 
 that of a young lady dressed in white, and 
 she came out of the summer-house. She held 
 a book in her hand, and with sparkling eyes 
 and lips half open she stepped rapidly toward 
 me. Stopping a little distance from the wall, 
 she said : 
 
 "Is that Mr. Thomas - - ? If so, what 
 is the rest of your name ? " 
 
 I could scarcely answer, so surprised was 
 I. The girl was beautiful. I do not believe 
 I ever saw such eyes. Clara s are dark. 
 
 " W. Grant," said I. 
 
 A smile of delight spread over her face. 
 She was not tall, but her movements and ex- 
 
" IS THAT MR. THOMAS 
 
A8 ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 245 
 
 pressions had a charm in them which seemed 
 entirely novel to me. 
 
 "Oh, I am so glad," she said; "I had not 
 the least idea there was anybody here until I 
 happened to look up from my book and saw 
 those branches moving. Then I noticed your 
 hat. How good of you to come. Do you 
 think you can reach this ? " Then dropping 
 her book on the ground she took from her 
 pocket a letter and held it up to me. " That 
 is a full account of me, with all things which 
 I wish to have known. I give it to you now 
 because if anyone should come before I have 
 time to talk to you, you will not have to go 
 away without knowing everything." 
 
 I leaned over the wall, stretched down my 
 arm and took the letter. 
 
 " Then I may talk to you ? " I said. 
 
 " Oh, yes," she answered, " there are a 
 good many things I want to ask you. If I 
 had something to stand on it would be bet 
 ter," and she looked about her. 
 
 " Oh, you need not trouble yourself to 
 stand on anything," said I, visions of top 
 pling boxes or barrels coming into my mind. 
 " May I not get over the wall and speak with 
 you on the ground ? " 
 
246 A3 ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 11 That would be better," she said, " but I 
 am so afraid that if anyone should come you 
 could not get back again." 
 
 I glanced along the inner side of the wall ; 
 not far away there was a low pear-tree, and 
 from a crotch of this I saw I could readily 
 reach the coping. 
 
 " I can get back again easily enough," said 
 I, and in a moment I was standing by her 
 side. 
 
 " Let us step into the arbor," she said ; " it 
 is possible that we may be seen here from 
 the house." 
 
 I followed her quick steps toward the ar 
 bor. 
 
 "Now let us sit down here," said she, 
 " and not speak very loud. I am dreadfully 
 anxious to ask you some things, and, besides, 
 I can tell you what is in that letter a great 
 deal better than I have written it. But first 
 of all I want to ask you some questions. 
 Have you a sister ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "What is her name?" 
 
 " Margaret." 
 
 " Oh, and is your mother living, and what 
 was her name before she was married ? " 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 247 
 
 "Margaret also Margaret Carson." 
 
 She clasped her little hands in her lap, 
 and turned herself slowly toward me. 
 
 " Then you are not the person," said she. 
 
 " What person ? " I asked in consterna 
 tion. 
 
 " When my father was living," she said, 
 "he had a partner who was his great friend, 
 and although I am not positively and cer 
 tainly sure that his name was the same as 
 yours, I know it was Grant, and I think it 
 was Thomas W. He is dead, but I know he 
 had a son whose name was Thomas, and I 
 thought there was no reason why he should 
 not be living at the address you sent me. 
 But I know his sister and his mother, and 
 her maiden name was Stanfield, and neither 
 of them is named Margaret. Ever since I 
 have been in trouble I have so longed to 
 know where the Grants lived, and when I 
 took your address from the pigeon s wing I 
 could have screamed with delight. But, af 
 ter all, you are not the person." 
 
 Did this mean that I was to get up and re 
 tire over the garden wall ? I could not act 
 on such a supposition. 
 
 " I do not know any Grants who married 
 
248 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 Stanfields," said I, speaking very earnestly, 
 " but I assure you, Miss Kosley, that that 
 does not make the least difference in the 
 world. You want help and I am here. Tell 
 me what it is that I can do for you, and it 
 shall be done just the same as if I were the 
 son of your father s friend. I judged from the 
 letter that I found in the balloon that you were 
 in great trouble. Now, I am a lawyer, tell 
 me everything, and it may be I can help you 
 as well as anyone else. Your appeal for help 
 canie to me floating out of the sky, and it 
 made a great impression upon me. I felt that 
 such a call as that must not be disregarded. 
 I came to you just as soon as it was possible, 
 and now I do not want you to send me away 
 without allowing me to do what I can for you." 
 
 "How glad I am you are a lawyer," she 
 said, the light again shining in her eyes. " A 
 lawyer ought to know exactly what to do, and 
 it was wonderfully kind of you to take so 
 much trouble for an absolute stranger, and 
 now I will begin at the beginning and tell 
 you everything as quickly as I can." 
 
 The story she told did not surprise me. In 
 fact, I had guessed the drift of it. She was 
 an orphan and had reason to believe that her 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 249 
 
 uncle, who was her guardian, and who of late 
 years had become very eccentric, had spent 
 a great part, or perhaps all, of her fortune 
 in his expensive experiments, and since she 
 had left school and was of age he had been 
 very suspicious and watchful of her, refusing 
 her permission to travel or visit her friends, 
 and lately had actually instituted a system of 
 espionage of all her correspondence. There 
 was no doubt that he was afraid she would 
 write something or say something that would 
 cause an investigation of her affairs before he 
 had finished a great scientific work on which 
 he was engaged, and from which, as he in 
 formed her almost every day, he expected to 
 derive great profit as well as reputation. 
 
 Miss Kosley s affection for her uncle, whose 
 mind was probably unsettled, had prevented 
 her from appealing to the neighbors, by 
 whom the old gentleman was evidently much 
 disliked, and who had already talked about 
 the strictness with which he treated his niece, 
 although they did not know the extent of his 
 vigilance. Such an appeal, my companion 
 said, would probably have resulted in his be 
 ing sent to a lunatic asylum or a prison, and 
 she had, therefore, confined herself to efforts to 
 
250 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 open a correspondence with the outside world. 
 If she could not in this way bring her case 
 to the knowledge of friends, she might, at 
 least, obtain the assistance of an unpreju 
 diced and dispassionate lawyer, who, without 
 making her uncle the subject of public scan 
 dal, would quietly obtain for her an allow 
 ance sufficient for her support, and let her 
 uncle keep the rest. Thus, under legal pro 
 tection, she would get out into the world and 
 seek her friends, leaving her uncle to go on 
 with his experiments and expenses without 
 fear of disturbance from her. If he could be 
 sure that he were in no danger of an investi 
 gation of his guardianship he would be quite 
 willing, she believed, to let her go wherever 
 she chose. 
 
 I did not interrupt her story. It was told 
 with great directness and clearness, owing, no 
 doubt, to her having previously written it. 
 
 " Now," said she, when she had finished, 
 " you are a lawyer ; will you take my case, 
 will you advise me ? " 
 
 " Most gladly will I do that," I said. " I 
 will take counsel of the heads of the law firm 
 with which I am connected. I will manage 
 the matter in the quietest and most private 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 251 
 
 way, mentioning no names until it is neces 
 sary. You may suppose that I have not had 
 experience enough to conduct an affair which 
 demands such delicacy, prudence, and knowl 
 edge, but I assure you that the firm of Round- 
 man, Bostwick & Unger stands in the highest 
 rank of the profession. I will remember all 
 that you have told me, and I will carefully 
 study the paper you have given me. I will 
 find the family of your father s partner. I 
 will put you into communication with them, 
 for I can manage a correspondence for you. 
 In fact, I will attend to anything you wish." 
 
 " That is very good of you," she said. " I 
 believe that lawyers are as kind as doctors. 
 When I succeeded in getting my letter into the 
 balloon, I really had great hopes that some 
 thing would come of it, but I did not believe 
 that I would so soon have the chance of 
 speaking to a lawyer and putting my affairs 
 into his hands. I think it is wonderful." 
 
 " I consider it one of the lucky chances of 
 my life," said I, " that I happened to be the 
 one who discovered that balloon." 
 
 " It was a happy thing for me," she said, 
 " for you came so quickly. Now there is 
 something I have just thought of. Wouldn t 
 
252 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 it be well, before you do anything else, to 
 find out where the Grants live I mean my 
 Grants ; then, if when my uncle first hears 
 from you or your firm, he should become 
 excited and angry, so that I should be afraid 
 of him and there have been times when I 
 have been a little afraid of him I might 
 quietly escape from this place and go to the 
 Grants?" 
 
 This proposition alarmed me. "My dear 
 young lady," I replied, " if you suspect any 
 such danger as that we must all be very care 
 ful. In no event must you try to get away 
 from here without assistance. Any attempt 
 of the kind would be extremely hazardous, for 
 your uncle will be extraordinarily watchful, 
 and in his state of mind there is no knowing 
 what might happen, and in any case you 
 must not travel by yourself. Don t think of 
 doing anything of the sort without my know 
 ing it. It may be well for me to stay near 
 you after negotiations have been opened with 
 your uncle. I can take lodgings in the vil 
 lage and we can arrange signals, so that if 
 you think you ought to leave this house I 
 shall be ready to take you wherever you 
 want to go. If your Grants are too far away 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 253 
 
 I will take you to my Grants. My mother 
 and sister will be glad to receive you." 
 
 " How good you are," she said, and she 
 held out her hand. I took it and did not im 
 mediately release it. I think she supposed 
 that this was because I wished to take leave 
 of her. 
 
 " Good-by," she said, as she gently with 
 drew her hand, " good-by ; I shall think of 
 other things to say to you, of course, but I 
 ought not to keep you any longer, and some 
 body might come out before you could get 
 over the wall." 
 
 I did not want to go ; I was not at that 
 moment afraid of anyone. I was sure I had 
 not thought of all the things I ought to 
 say. Happily one of these things now came 
 to me. 
 
 "I will tell you what you ought to do," 
 I said. " You should write a letter to your 
 Grants ; then I can give it to them if I see 
 them, or send it to them even if they are in 
 California or abroad. Now is your chance to 
 communicate with your friends." 
 
 "But I cannot write a letter before you 
 go," said she. 
 
 " Oh, I will leave you and come back again 
 
254 A3 ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 this afternoon. Then you can give me the 
 letter." 
 
 " I shall not say anything more about your 
 kindness," said she, "because there is so 
 much of it. About three o clock will be a 
 good time, and do not show yourself unless 
 you see me." 
 
 She raised a little watch that was dangling 
 at her belt, and looked at it. 
 
 " Dear me ! " she exclaimed, " it is after 
 one o clock. I had not the least idea it was 
 so late." 
 
 She rose, and as I perceived that she 
 wanted to see me safely off before she went 
 to the house, I assured her that I would be 
 back at three, and jumping into the pear-tree 
 easily cleared the wall. 
 
 I went back to the inn for my luncheon. 
 
 " Did you see all the people I told you the 
 names of ? " said my host. 
 
 " No," said I, " but I shall stay here for 
 the rest of the day." 
 
 " You didn t get out to old Eosley s, I sup 
 pose," he continued ; " but it wouldn t be much 
 use unless you ve got books about balloons or 
 stars." 
 
 " I may get out there this afternoon," said 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 255 
 
 I, thinking it well to divert suspicion if my 
 course should be noticed. 
 
 At about a quarter before three I was in 
 the cedar-tree looking over the garden wall. 
 It was a long time before I saw her coming, 
 and then in a moment I was in the garden. 
 She hurried toward me. 
 
 " It wasn t necessary to get over the wall," 
 she said. " I am so afraid you will be seen. 
 I thought you would reach down and take 
 the letter. But now that you are here, please 
 come into the arbor. You cannot be seen 
 from the house there. Here is a letter to 
 Mrs. Grant ; perhaps you would like to look 
 over it. I shall have to ask you to hurry, 
 for my uncle is in a very bad way to-da} r . 
 He was angry because I was two minutes late 
 to lunch, and he may send for me or come for 
 me at any minute. He was greatly disturbed 
 when he found his pigeon without anything 
 on its wing, and has since been expecting a 
 letter from the finder, and as none has come 
 he is very cross and out of humor with all the 
 world." 
 
 I had no time to waste in reading her letter. 
 I glanced over it and told her that no doubt 
 she had stated everything correctly, and that 
 
256 A8 ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 I would see tliat it reached Mrs. Grant if she 
 were alive. Then I stood and looked down 
 on that beautiful young face, not happy as it 
 had been in the morning, but troubled and 
 anxious. I could not bear to go away and 
 leave her with this half-crazy and selfish old 
 man. It was not safe, it was not right, that 
 she should be here. Earnestly and quickly I 
 told her what I thought. 
 
 She looked up at me with tears in her eyes 
 and seemed about to speak when suddenly 
 she started. 
 
 " Hark ! " said she, " I think my uncle is 
 calling me. Yes, he is." 
 
 At this instant there came a loud call, or, 
 rather, shout, from the house. She turned pale. 
 
 It is not like him to do that. I must run," 
 she said, " or he will be here. Let me go, and 
 then hurry away as fast as you can." 
 
 I had seized her by the arm to detain her 
 an instant. " I shall not go," I said quickly, 
 " I shall stay behind the garden wall until I 
 know you are not in danger. When you have 
 a chance come out and let me know ; I shall 
 be there." 
 
 She raised her eyes to mine without a word 
 and then she fled. 
 
A3 ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 257 
 
 I sat on the ground at the back of the wall, 
 listening. The place was so secluded that if 
 no one had come into the cornfield, and there 
 was no agricultural reason why anyone 
 should do so at this time of the year, I might 
 have camped there for a week. I was afraid 
 to stand in a tree, for fear I might move the 
 branches, but from where I was I thought I 
 could hear the lightest footstep or the faintest 
 call. After a time I took out my watch and 
 looked at it. 
 
 It was nearly four o clock. Almost im 
 mediately after that a little gravel stone came 
 over the wall and fell down near me. Instant 
 ly I was in the tree looking over the wall. 
 She stood almost beneath me. 
 
 "Hush!" she whispered. "Do not get 
 over the wall nor speak. I heard the click of 
 your watch and knew you must be there. Get 
 down again and wait, please." 
 
 I obeyed her implicitly. I did not even 
 hesitate long enough to see what she did. 
 
 I do not know how long I waited, but sud 
 denly I was startled by footsteps on the out 
 side of the wall, and looking around I saw 
 Miss Rosley approaching me. Her face was 
 pale as she put her finger on her lips. 
 
258 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 "I will go through the corn," she whis 
 pered, "to the end of the field. Meet me 
 there." And without another word she dis 
 appeared between two rows of tall, waving 
 green blades. 
 
 For a moment I stood, not knowing what 
 to do. It was plain she did not wish me to 
 follow her, and as I did not know the extent 
 or conformation of the cornfield, I thought it 
 best to go out to the lane and so keep on a 
 parallel course with her. The cornfield was a 
 large one, and when I came to the end of it I 
 found a piece of wooded land with a little 
 stream running under the trees. I got over 
 a rough stone wall and pushed my way 
 through the underbrush and ferns to the spot 
 which I supposed was as far from the lane as 
 the point where Miss Eosley entered the field. 
 
 I had not misjudged the distance. Soon I 
 saw a speck of white and then her two hands 
 pushing aside the bending leaves. I pulled 
 down the bars of a low rail fence in front of 
 me and hurried to meet her. Her face was 
 flushed. 
 
 " Are you not tired ? " I whispered. 
 
 " Oh, you can speak out now," she said. 
 " I am tired, for it was so rough." 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 259 
 
 I assisted her to a low rock near the stream, 
 and there we sat down. She took off her hat 
 and fanned herself. 
 
 " As soon as I get my breath," she said, " I 
 will tell you about everything." 
 
 I was content to Avait as long as she 
 pleased, but she soon began : 
 
 " I found my uncle in a perfect fury," she 
 said. " He has noticed that the pigeon he 
 put in the balloon is in the habit of coming 
 to my balcony. He suspects me of taking 
 the paper from its wing. And, more than 
 that, he thinks that in some way I have ob 
 tained possession of the letter from the per 
 son who found the balloon, and that I intend 
 to make some use of it. I tried to quiet him 
 in every way that I could, but it was of no 
 use. Presently he shook his great, long 
 finger at me and said : I have made up my 
 mind to wait for the letter until this after 
 noon s mail comes in and no longer. You 
 can go to the post-office and get me that let 
 ter. I want you to go and nobody else. You 
 are the best person to go after it. I knew 
 very well what he meant by that. He thought 
 that I had the letter and that this would give 
 me a chance to produce it. It seems strange 
 
260 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 that he should let me go to the post-office 
 alone, but his mind must have been greatly 
 upset, and, besides, I don t believe he thought 
 there was any need of my going. As soon as 
 I could I went into the garden to see if you 
 were still there, and then I put on my hat 
 and went out. If he saw me he might think 
 I was going to the post-office, although the 
 mail does not come in until six o clock. And 
 now," her eyes filling with tears as she spoke, 
 " I cannot go back. I would not dare to go 
 back to the house without the letter. I think 
 he is entirely crazy. I have not a thing with 
 me," she went on to say, " except my gloves 
 and my hat. I can go to stay with some of 
 the village people, but they are so near my 
 uncle s house." 
 
 I took one of her hands in both of mine. 
 " My dear young lady," I said, " you go to 
 none of them. They would drive you crazy 
 with their questions. They could not help 
 you in the least. I will take you to a place 
 of safety." 
 
 " How ? " asked she. 
 
 I could not instantly formulate my inten 
 tions, for the situation had been very sud 
 denly thrust upon me. It was a strange one, 
 
A3 ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 261 
 
 and required consideration. She waited a 
 few moments for me to speak, withdrawing 
 her hand the while. 
 
 " I will tell you," she said, " what I thought 
 when I came out here. I thought that I 
 would go back to my school at Stamford, 
 which I left more than a year ago. It is va 
 cation now, but one of the ladies always stays 
 there, and it is the only place I have to go 
 to. I would be afraid to take a train at the 
 village, because someone might see me and 
 interfere with me, but there is a station about 
 two miles below where I would not be likely 
 to meet anyone who knows me. My great 
 difficulty is that I have not any money. I 
 do not mind not having any clothes or things, 
 for Miss Humphreys can give me what I 
 really need, but I must buy my ticket, and I 
 thought perhaps you would lend me the 
 money." 
 
 " Oh, that is all right," said I, " you need 
 not trouble yourself about money, but Stam 
 ford is a long way from here, and you are not 
 prepared for travel," and as I spoke I looked 
 at her thin white dress. " You can do much 
 better than that. Let me take you to my 
 own home. It is not so far, and my mother 
 
262 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTIIfifi 
 
 and sister will be glad to welcome and take 
 care of you. There you can wait until you 
 hear from your Mrs. Grant, or you can write 
 to your teacher, or do what you please." 
 
 " You are very generous and good," she 
 said, " but I could not do that. Your mother 
 does not know me, and, in fact, you do not 
 know me. What would she think were you 
 to take me to her ? No, I must go to some 
 one who knows me to my school. You may 
 wonder that I have never written to my 
 teachers, but there were reasons why I could 
 not. For a long time they have been very 
 severe upon my uncle. I know he owes them 
 money, and he has treated them very rudely. 
 If I had written to them one of them would 
 have come here, and there would have been 
 great trouble. And until this day I never 
 thought of running away and going to them, 
 but now I must do it. I can walk to Still- 
 well, and a train leaves there about ten min 
 utes before six, so there is plenty of time. 
 As you are so kind as to let me have the 
 money for my fare I am sure I can easily get 
 to Stamford." 
 
 I saw that her scheme was better than 
 mine. Her words had called up in my mind 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 263 
 
 a picture of my mother and sister when I 
 presented myself before them and requested 
 them to open their arms to a strange young 
 woman, very beautiful, but without baggage, 
 which was a truer picture than the one my 
 generosity had at first evoked. 
 
 " Since you wish it," I said, " you shall go 
 to Stamford. But you cannot go alone, 
 and I shall go with you. You will have to 
 leave this train at the ferry ; you must cross to 
 New York and take another train, and it will 
 be dark before you get to the end of your 
 journey. No, do not say a word against it ; 
 you are under my wing, and I shall keep you 
 there until I give you to your friends, so that 
 is settled. You say I do not know you, but 
 I am determined you shall know me, and know 
 that I am not the kind of a man to let you 
 go off alone to Stamford at this time of day." 
 
 She looked up at me with a smile. 
 
 " Are all lawyers as kind-hearted and 
 thoughtful as you are ? " she said. 
 
 "It depends on the lawyer," I answered, 
 and then in a moment added, " and also upon 
 the client. And now, shall we walk on to 
 Stillwell?" 
 
 She rose without a word, and together we 
 
264 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 went out of the woods into the green and 
 shaded lane. 
 
 That walk to Stillwell was a charming one. 
 The afternoon sky, the summer air, and the 
 gentle confidences of my companion harmo 
 nized like the colors of a tapestry. 
 
 But as we approached Stillwell there was 
 a change in the mood of Miss Rosley. To 
 the sense of peaceful relief, arising from the 
 feeling that she was safe and being cared for, 
 there succeeded a very natural sadness when 
 she thought that she was thus leaving her 
 only home and her only relative, and one 
 who formerly had been so kind to her. As 
 she spoke of this tears began to roll down 
 her cheeks. I said everything I could to 
 comfort and cheer her, and among other 
 things I suggested that she write to her un 
 cle and let him know where she was going. 
 He would not disturb her there. She readily 
 agreed to this, and as there was plenty of 
 time she sat down on a stone by the road 
 side, and with my pencil and on a page from 
 my notebook she wrote to him, and when we 
 reached the station I procured an envelope 
 and mailed it there. 
 
 I had a great deal to do to console that 
 
TOGETHER WE WENT OUT OF THE WOODS. 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 265 
 
 young creature and to keep her from crying 
 during the long and varied journey, but I 
 succeeded fairly well. When we reached 
 New York I found we had an hour and a half 
 to wait. "We dined at a restaurant, and leav 
 ing her there to finish her dessert I went out 
 and bought her a jacket, for the air was grow 
 ing very cool. When I brought this to her 
 her eyes sparkled with delight and surprise. 
 
 " I believe you are a good fairy," she said. 
 " I was shivering when I came in here, and 
 was just wondering how I could go out into 
 the night air with nothing but this thin dress. 
 And how in the world did you know this 
 would fit me ? " 
 
 " Do you think my eyes so poor," I asked, 
 " that by this time they are not able to meas 
 ure you ? " 
 
 " I did not know," she said, as we went 
 out, "that lawyers had such good eyes." 
 
 It was after nine o clock when we reached 
 the school of the Misses Humphreys, and the 
 elder sister, who, at the time, had the house 
 nearly to herself, was just about to go to her 
 chamber when we arrived. I shall never for 
 get the surprise of that rather more than 
 middle-aged lady when she beheld her former 
 
266 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 pupil and myself. She took Miss Kosley to 
 her arms, and when the natural agitation of 
 that young lady had subsided I was intro 
 duced, and a very brief but direct explanation 
 of her appearance was given. 
 
 "I thought you would have to leave him," 
 said Miss Humphreys. " I knew you could 
 not live there, but I never expected you to 
 run away in this fashion. And so this gen 
 tleman is your lawyer ? " And as she spoke 
 she scanned me very thoroughly through her 
 spectacles. 
 
 I soon took my leave, promising to call 
 in the morning for instructions from my 
 client. I went to a hotel, and not until I 
 reached it did I remember that I, as well 
 as Miss Rosley, was unencumbered with 
 baggage. 
 
 The next morning I presented myself at 
 Miss Humphreys s school. I had first an in 
 terview with the old lady. 
 
 " Miss Kosley has told me her story," she 
 said, "balloon and everything, and I must 
 say the affair is entirely different from the 
 circumstances by which we are ordinarily 
 surrounded. She has also explained to me 
 that, although you are apparently too young 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 267 
 
 a man to Lave had much law experience, you 
 are connected with a prominent legal firm 
 of which I have heard. I hope, sir, that you 
 will submit this business, with all its details, 
 to their most careful consideration." 
 
 "Of course I shall do that," I said. "I 
 would not think of acting in such a matter 
 without the concurrence of the firm." 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 "I hope you may have their concurrence in 
 every way," she said. " Miss Rosley has told 
 me how extraordinarily kind and thoughtful 
 you have been, and has stated that if you had 
 known her all your lifetime, instead of part 
 of a day, your conduct toward her could not 
 have been more tender or sympathetic. I 
 inferred, indeed " 
 
 But she did not finish the sentence, for at 
 this moment Miss Eosley entered the room. 
 She wore a morning-gown a little too large 
 for her, but she was quite as lovely as if it 
 had fitted her. She greeted me warmly. 
 
 " I have come," I said, " to take my legal 
 instructions." 
 
 We sat down on a sofa, and Miss Hum 
 phreys took a chair at the other end of the 
 loner room. She seemed to think that when 
 
268 A3 ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 a client was giving instructions to a lawyer 
 the presence of a witness was necessary. 
 
 My instructions were very simple. If pos 
 sible I was to get an allowance for her, which 
 would support her, but in no event was I to 
 do anything which would bring a scandal 
 upon her uncle or cause his property to be 
 sold. She had written again to him, telling 
 him that he need fear nothing from her in 
 this respect. 
 
 " A much too affectionate letter, I should 
 say," interpolated Miss Humphreys from the 
 other end of the room. 
 
 When our business talk had been conclud 
 ed Miss Rosley said to me in a rather lower 
 voice than that in which she had been speak 
 ing: 
 
 "I can never thank you enough for all you 
 have done for me, but I shall " 
 
 " Oh, do not speak of that," said I ; " wait 
 until I have done more. You do not know 
 how glad I am to be able to serve you." 
 
 There was an evident restlessness at the 
 other end of the room, owing, perhaps, to an 
 inability to catch words spoken in a low 
 tone and at a considerable distance, and 
 which seemed to be a hint to speak louder or 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 269 
 
 to bring the conversation to a close. Under 
 the circumstances I thought the latter would 
 be the best course. 
 
 " I must go now," I said, " but as soon as 
 anything definite is done in regard to this 
 business I will inform you." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said she, " I shall be so glad to 
 have you write- and tell me everything." 
 
 " Of course I can write," I said, " but it 
 would be better for me to come to you 
 wherever you may be and report or consult. 
 Which would you prefer ? " I asked, daring 
 to speak in quite a low tone. " Shall I write 
 or come? " 
 
 She looked up at me as we stood together, 
 and said : 
 
 " Come." 
 
 I reached home that afternoon, and the 
 next day I went to see Clara. I found her 
 on fire to know what had happened. As 
 clearly and concisely as I could I put before 
 her the event which had occurred since I 
 saw her. She showed the greatest interest 
 in every detail of my account. In fact, her 
 manner indicated a craving for detail. "When 
 I had made what I thought was a good 
 finish to my story, she said : 
 
270 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 "Now then, Tom, there is one thing I 
 particularly want to know ; when you were 
 talking to this girl about our willingness to 
 help her, and when you were doing all those 
 things you did, did you always remember to 
 speak to her as one woman to another ? " 
 
 This question struck me dumb. I did not 
 know what to say. A backward mental 
 glance at the events of the past two days 
 made it still harder to answer. Then up 
 stood Clara, her face somewhat pale. 
 
 " Now, be honest, Tom, did you ? " 
 
 I looked straight into her eyes. " Of 
 course I did not," I said. " I could not do 
 it, and no man who is the right sort of a 
 man could do it. But I spoke to her as a 
 lawyer to his client. You must remember 
 she is my first client." 
 
 Clara regarded me for a moment with a 
 smile on her face, a very queer smile. " No, 
 Tom," she said, " she is not your client at 
 all. You know we were to act together in 
 this matter, and as I know nothing of law 
 we could not be her lawyers. There is my 
 cousin Charles, who is a lawyer, and I know 
 he would be very glad to take up this case." 
 
 " Your cousin ! " I exclaimed with con- 
 
AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 271 
 
 siderable excitement. " You do not suppose 
 tbat lie would speak with her as one woman 
 to another ! " 
 
 " In this case," said Clara, " it would not 
 matter." 
 
 Of course I agreed to give up this, my first 
 case. It was reasonable that I should do so, 
 and I did not argue about it. But it filled 
 my soul with an active jealousy to think of 
 that handsome cousin Charles taking charge 
 of my client s affairs. Against this I argued, 
 but my arguments were of no avail. Clara s 
 cousin was a good lawyer ; he was older than 
 I ; he had had experience and he had ex 
 cellent partners, and the matter ended by my 
 giving him a letter of introduction to Miss 
 Eosley, and by putting in his hands her 
 letter to Mrs. Grant, her fortunes and her 
 destinies. 
 
 I thought of writing an explanatory note 
 to the young lady, but Clara believed that 
 this was needless. Her cousin could explain 
 everything, and if a note from us should 
 prove necessary she and I could easily write 
 one when the time came to do so. The time 
 for a note from both of us did not arrive, but 
 in about a week after I had parted with Miss 
 
272 AS ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 
 
 Kosley at the Humphreys s school, and be 
 fore Clara s cousin had communicated with 
 her, I received a letter from her. That letter 
 I carried unopened in my pocket for three 
 days. 
 
 I could not bring myself to believe that 
 it was likely to be a letter which should be 
 read and answered conjointly by Clara and 
 myself, nor could I prevail upon myself that 
 under the circumstances I ought to read it 
 alone. Of course it might be a very simple 
 business note, but whenever I thought of it 
 I seemed to hear a gentle, tender call for 
 sympathy and help. I seemed to see a pair 
 of blue eyes dimmed with tears, and two 
 little hands outstretched toward me. These 
 fancies may have been but stuff and non 
 sense, but they made such an impression 
 upon me that on the third day I burned that 
 letter without reading it, and I never received 
 another. 
 
 Two years have passed since my visit to 
 Wolverton. I am married to Clara, and if I 
 should be lying in a hammock and should 
 see a speck in the blue summer sky I should 
 call her to come to look at it with me. 
 
 Clara s cousin Charles is soon to be mar- 
 
A3 ONE WOMAN TO ANOTHER 273 
 
 ried to Miss Kosley. He managed her af 
 fairs, I am told, as well as could be expected 
 of him, and, although he did not get very 
 much out of the business, he got quite as 
 much as he deserved. I never heard for I 
 took particular pains not to hear what Miss 
 Rosley thought of her change of lawyers. 
 Charles is not one of my intimates, and we 
 never have any confidences. 
 
 What I have here told was recently re 
 called by Clara, who came to me with a piece 
 of gray paper in her hand. 
 
 " I was looking for some stamps in your 
 desk," she said, " and I found this old postal 
 note for ninety-five cents. I remember it 
 very well. Shall I return it to Grace Kosley, 
 and write on the back of it, As one woman 
 to another ? I really think she ought to 
 have it." 
 
 I took it from her. "No," said I, "I 
 think I shall keep it ; but if you want to put 
 anything on it you can write : 
 
 " l A man s a man for a that. " 
 
MY WELL AND WHAT CAME OUT 
 OF IT 
 
MY WELL AND WHAT CAME OUT 
 OF IT 
 
 EARLY in my married life I bought a 
 small country estate which my wife and 
 I looked upon as a paradise. After enjoying 
 its delight for a little more than a year our 
 souls were saddened by the discovery that 
 our Eden contained a serpent. This was an 
 insufficient water supply. 
 
 It had been a rainy season when we first 
 went there, and for a long time our cisterns 
 gave us full aqueous satisfaction, but early 
 this year a drought had set in and we were 
 obliged to be exceedingly careful of our 
 water. 
 
 It was quite natural that the scarcity of 
 water for domestic purposes should affect my 
 wife much more than it did me, and perceiv 
 ing the discontent which was growing in her 
 mind, I determined to dig a well. 
 
 The very next day I began to look for a 
 well- digger. Such an individual was not easy 
 
278 MY WELL AND WHAT 
 
 to find, for in the region in which I lived 
 wells had become unfashionable, but I deter 
 mined to persevere in my search, and in 
 about a week I found a well-digger. 
 
 He was a man of somewhat rough exterior, 
 but of an ingratiating turn of mind. It was 
 easy to see that it was his earnest desire to 
 serve me. 
 
 "And now then," said he, when we had 
 had a little conversation about terms, "the 
 first thing to do is to find out where there is 
 water. Have you a peach-tree on the place?" 
 We walked to such a tree and he cut there 
 from a forked twig. 
 
 " I thought," said I, " that divining rods 
 were always of hazel wood." 
 
 " A peach twig will do quite as well," said 
 lie, and I have since found that he was right. 
 Divining rods of peach will turn and find 
 water quite as well as those of hazel or any 
 other kind of wood. 
 
 He took an end of the twig in each hand, 
 and with the point projecting in front of 
 him, he slowly walked along over the grass 
 in my little orchard. Presently the point of 
 the twig seemed to bend itself downward 
 toward the ground. 
 
(JAME OUT OF IT 271) 
 
 " There," said he, stopping ; " you will find 
 water here." 
 
 " I do not want a well here," said I ; " this is 
 at the bottom of a hill and my barnyard is at 
 the top ; besides, it is too far from the house." 
 
 " Very good," said he ; " we will try some 
 where else." 
 
 His rod turned at several other places, but 
 I had objections to all of them. A sanitary 
 engineer had once visited me and he had 
 given me a great deal of advice about drain 
 age, and I knew what to avoid. 
 
 We crossed the ridge of the hill into the 
 low ground on the other side. Here were no 
 buildings, nothing which would interfere with 
 the purity of a well. My well-digger walked 
 slowly over the ground with his divining rod. 
 Very soon he exclaimed : 
 
 "Here is water!" and picking up a stick, 
 he sharpened one end of it and drove it into 
 the ground. Then he took a string from his 
 pocket, and making a loop in one end he put 
 it over the stick. 
 
 " What are you going to do ? " I asked. 
 
 " I am going to make a circle four feet in 
 diameter," he said. "We have to dig the 
 well as wide as that, you know." 
 
280 MY WELL AND WHAT 
 
 " But I do not want a well there," said I. 
 " It s too close to the wall. I could not build 
 a house over it. It would not do at all." 
 
 He stood up and looked at me. " Well, 
 sir," said he, " will you tell me where you 
 would like to have a well ? " 
 
 " Yes," said I. " I would like to have it 
 over there in the corner of the hedge. It 
 would be near enough to the house ; it would 
 have a warm exposure, which will be desira 
 ble in winter, and the little house which I in 
 tend to build over it would look better there 
 than anywhere else." 
 
 He took his divining rod and went to the 
 spot I had indicated. " Is this the place ? " 
 he asked, wishing to be sure he had under 
 stood me. 
 
 " Yes," I replied. He put his twig in posi 
 tion, and in a few seconds it turned in the di 
 rection of the ground. Then he drove down 
 a stick, marked out a circle, and the next day 
 he came with two men and a derrick and be 
 gan to dig my well. 
 
 When they had gone down twenty -five feet 
 they found water, and when they had prog 
 ressed a few feet deeper they began to be 
 afraid of drowning. I thought they ought 
 
CAME OUT OF IT 281 
 
 to go deeper, but the well-digger said that 
 they could not dig without first taking out 
 the water, and that the water came in as fast 
 as they bailed it out, and he asked me to 
 put it to myself and tell him how they could 
 dig it deeper. I put the question to myself 
 but could find no answer. I also laid the 
 matter before some specialists, and it was 
 generally agreed that if water came in as fast 
 as it was taken out, nothing more could be 
 desired. The well was, therefore, pronounced 
 deep enough. It was lined with great tiles, 
 nearly a yard in diameter, and my well- 
 digger, after congratulating me on finding 
 water so easily, bade me good-by and departed 
 with his men and his derrick. 
 
 On the other side of the wall which bounded 
 my grounds, and near which my well had been 
 dug, there ran a country lane, leading no 
 where in particular, which seemed to be there 
 for the purpose of allowing people to pass 
 my house who might otherwise be obliged to 
 stop. 
 
 Along this lane my neighbors would pass, 
 and often strangers drove by, and as my well 
 could easily be seen over the low stone wall, its 
 construction had excited a great deal of inter- 
 
282 MY WELL AND WHAT 
 
 est. Some of the people who drove by were 
 summer folks from the city, and I am sure, 
 from remarks I overheard, that it was thought 
 a very queer thing to dig for water. Of course 
 they must have known that people used to do 
 this in the olden times, even as far back as 
 the time of Jacob and Kebecca, but the ex 
 pressions of some of their faces indicated 
 that they remembered that this was the nine 
 teenth century. 
 
 My neighbors, however, were all rural peo 
 ple, and much more intelligent in regard to 
 water supplies. One of them, Phineas Col- 
 well by name, took a more lively interest in 
 my operations than did anyone else. He 
 was a man of about fifty years of age, who 
 had been a soldier. This fact was kept alive 
 in the minds of his associates by his dress, a 
 part of which was always military. If he did 
 not wear an old fatigue jacket with brass but 
 tons, he wore his blue trousers, or, perhaps, 
 a waistcoat that belonged to his uniform, and 
 if he wore none of these his military hat would 
 appear upon his head. I think he must also 
 have been a sailor, judging from the little gold 
 rings in his ears. But when I first knew him 
 he was a carpenter, who did mason-work when- 
 
CANE OUT OF IT 283 
 
 ever any of the neighbors had any jobs of the 
 sort. He also worked in gardens by the day, 
 and had told me that he understood the care of 
 horses and was a very good driver. He some 
 times worked on farms, especially at harvest- 
 time, and I know he could paint, for he once 
 showed me a fence which he said he had 
 painted. I frequently saw him, because he 
 always seemed to be either going to his work 
 or coming from it. In fact, he appeared to 
 consider actual labor in the light of a bad 
 habit which he wished to conceal, and which 
 he was continually endeavoring to reform. 
 
 Phineas walked along our lane at least once 
 a day, and whenever he saw me he told me 
 something about the well. He did not ap 
 prove of the place I had selected for it. If 
 he had been digging a well he would have 
 put it in a very different place. When I had 
 talked with him for some time and explained 
 why I had chosen this spot, he would say 
 that perhaps I was right, and begin to talk 
 of something else. But the next time I saw 
 him he would again assert that if he had 
 been digging that well he would not have put 
 it there. 
 
 About a quarter of a mile from my house, 
 
284 MY WELL AND WHAT 
 
 at a turn of the lane, lived Mrs. Betty Perch. 
 She was a widow with about twelve children. 
 A few of these were her own, and the others 
 she had inherited from two sisters who had 
 married and died, and whose husbands, hav 
 ing proved their disloyalty by marrying again, 
 were not allowed by the indignant Mrs. Perch 
 to resume possession of their offspring. The 
 casual observer might have supposed the 
 number of these children to be very great 
 fifteen, or perhaps even twenty for if he hap 
 pened to see a group of them on the door 
 step, he would see a lot more if he looked 
 into the little garden ; and under some cedar- 
 trees at the back of the house, there were 
 always some of them on fine days. But per 
 haps they sought to increase their apparent 
 number and ran from one place to another to 
 be ready to meet observation, as the famous 
 clown, Grimaldi, who used to go through his 
 performances at one London theatre and 
 then dash off in his paint and motley to 
 another, so that a perambulating theatre- 
 going man might imagine that there were 
 two greatest clowns in the world. 
 
 When Mrs. Perch had time she sewed for 
 the neighbors, and whether she had time or 
 
CAME OUT OF IT 285 
 
 not she was always ready to supply them with 
 news. From the moment she heard I was 
 going to dig a well she took a vital interest 
 in it. Her own water supply was unsatisfac 
 tory, as she depended upon a little spring 
 which sometimes dried up in summer, and 
 should my well turn out to be a good one, 
 she knew I would not object to her sending 
 the children for pails of water on occasions. 
 
 " It will be fun for them," she said, " and 
 if your water really is good it will often come 
 in very well for me. Mr. Colwell tells me," 
 she continued, " that you put your well in the 
 wrong place. He is a practical man and 
 knows all about wells, and I do hope that for 
 your sake he may be wrong." 
 
 My neighbors were generally pessimists. 
 Country people are proverbially prudent, and 
 pessimism is prudence. "We feel safe when 
 we doubt the success of another, because if 
 he should succeed, we can say we were glad 
 we were mistaken, and so step from a position 
 of good judgment to one of generous dispo 
 sition without feeling that we have changed 
 our plane of merit. But the optimist often 
 gets himself into terrible scrapes, for if he is 
 wrong he cannot say he is glad of it. 
 
286 MY WELL AND WHAT 
 
 But whatever else he may be, a pessimist 
 is depressing, and it was, therefore, a great 
 pleasure to me to have a friend who was an 
 out-and-out optimist. In fact, he might be 
 called a working optimist. He lived about 
 six miles from my house, and had a hobby, 
 which was natural phenomena. He was al 
 ways on the lookout for that sort of thing, 
 and when he found it he would study its 
 nature and effect. He was a man in the ma 
 turity of youth, and if the estate on which he 
 lived had not belonged to his mother, he 
 would have spent much time and money in 
 investigating its natural phenomena. He 
 often drove over to see me, and always told 
 me how glad he would be if he had an oppor 
 tunity of digging a well. 
 
 " I have the wildest desire," he said, " to 
 know what is in the earth under our place, 
 and if it should so happen in the course of 
 time that the limits of earthly existence should 
 be reached by I mean if the estate should 
 come into my hands I would go down, down, 
 down until I had found out all that could be 
 discovered. To own a plug of earth four 
 thousand miles long and only know what is 
 on the surface of the upper end of it is 
 
CAME OUT OF IT 2S7 
 
 unmanly. We might as well be grazing 
 beasts." 
 
 He was sorry that I was digging only for 
 water, because water is a very commonplace 
 thing, but he was quite sure I would get it, 
 and when my well was finished he was one 
 of the first to congratulate me. 
 
 " But if I had been in your place," said he, 
 " with full right to do as I pleased, I would 
 not have let these men go away. I would 
 have set them to work in some place where 
 there would be no danger of getting water 
 at least for a long time and then you would 
 have found out what are the deeper treasures 
 of your land." 
 
 Having finished my well, I now set about 
 getting the water into my residence near by. 
 I built a house over the well and put in it a 
 little engine, and by means of a system of 
 pipes, like the arteries and veins of the hu 
 man body, I proposed to distribute the water 
 to the various desirable points in my house. 
 The engine was the heart which should start 
 the circulation, which should keep it going, 
 which should send throbbing through every 
 pipe, the water, which, if it w r ere not our life, 
 was very necessary to it. 
 
288 MY WELL AND WHAT 
 
 When all was ready we started the engine, 
 and in a very short time we discovered that 
 something was wrong. For fifteen or twenty 
 minutes water flowed into the tank at the top 
 of the house with a sound that was grander 
 in the ears of my wife and myself than the 
 roar of Niagara, and then it stopped. Inves 
 tigation proved that the flow had stopped be 
 cause there was no more water in the well. 
 
 It is needless to detail the examinations, 
 investigations, and the multitude of counsels 
 and opinions with which our minds were 
 filled for the next few days. It was plain to 
 see that, although this well was fully able to 
 meet the demands of a hand pump or of 
 bailing buckets, the water did not flow into 
 it as fast as it could be pumped out by an en 
 gine. Therefore, for the purposes of supply 
 ing the circulation of my domestic water sys 
 tem, the well was declared a failure. 
 
 My non-success was much talked about in 
 the neighborhood, and we received a great 
 deal of sympathy and condolence. Phineas 
 Colwell was not surprised at the outcome of 
 the affair. He had said that the well had 
 been put in the wrong place. Mrs. Betty was 
 not only surprised, but disgusted. 
 
CAME OUT OF IT 289 
 
 "It is all very well for you," she said, 
 " who could afford to buy water if it was nec 
 essary, but it is very different with the widow 
 and the orphan. If I had not supposed you 
 were going to have a real well, I would have 
 had my spring cleaned out and deepened. I 
 could have had it done in the early summer, 
 but it is of no use now ; the spring has dried 
 up." 
 
 She told a neighbor that she believed the 
 digging of my well had dried up her spring, 
 and that that was the way of this world, where 
 the widow and the orphan were sure to come 
 out at the little end. 
 
 Of course I did not submit to defeat at 
 least, without a struggle. I had a well, and 
 if anything could be done to make that well 
 supply me with water I was going to do it. I 
 consulted specialists, and, after careful con 
 sideration of the matter, they agreed that it 
 would be unadvisable for me to attempt to 
 deepen my present well, as there was reason 
 to suppose there was very little water in the 
 place where I had dug it, and that the very 
 best thing I could do would be to try a 
 driven well. As I had already excavated 
 about thirty feet, thr.t was so much gain to 
 
290 MY WELL AND WHAT 
 
 me, and if I should have a six-inch pipe put 
 into my present well and then driven down 
 and down until it came to a place where 
 there was plenty of water, I would have all I 
 wanted. How far down the pipe would have 
 to be driven, of course they did not know, 
 but they all agreed that if I drove deep 
 enough I would get all the water I wanted. 
 This was the only kind of a well, they said, 
 which one could sink as deep as he pleased 
 without being interfered with by the water 
 at the bottom. My wife and I then consid 
 ered the matter, and ultimately decided that 
 it would be a waste of the money which we 
 had already spent upon the engine, the pipes, 
 and the little house, and, as there was noth 
 ing else to be done but to drive a well, we 
 would have a well driven. 
 
 Of course we were both very sorry that 
 the work must be begun again, but 1 was es 
 pecially dissatisfied, for the weather was get 
 ting cold, there was already snow upon the 
 ground, and I was told that work could not 
 be carried on in winter weather. I lost no 
 time, however, in making a contract with a 
 well-driver, who assured me that as soon as 
 the working season should open, which prob- 
 
CAME OUT OF IT 291 
 
 ably would be very early in the spring, he 
 would come to my place and begin to drive 
 my well. 
 
 The season did open, and so did the pea 
 blossoms, and the pods actually began to 
 fill before I saw that well-driver again. I 
 had had a good deal of correspondence 
 with him in the meantime, urging him to 
 prompt action, but he always had some 
 good reason for delay. (I found out after 
 ward that he was busy fulfilling a contract 
 made before mine in which he promised 
 to drive a well as soon as the season should 
 open.) 
 
 At last it was early in the summer he 
 came with his derricks, a steam-engine, a 
 trip-hammer, and a lot of men. They took oft 
 the roof of my house, removed the engine, and 
 set to work. 
 
 For many a long day, and I am sorry to 
 say for many a longer night, that trip-ham 
 mer hammered and banged. On the next 
 day, after the night-work began, one of my 
 neighbors came to me to know what they 
 did that for. I told him they were anxious 
 to get through. 
 
 " Get through what," said he, " the earth ? 
 
292 MY WELL AND WHAT 
 
 If they do that and your six-inch pipe conies 
 out in a Chinaman s back yard he will sue 
 you for damages." 
 
 When the pipe had been driven through 
 the soft stratum under the old well, and be 
 gan to reach firmer ground, the pounding and 
 shaking of the earth became worse and worse. 
 My wife was obliged to leave home with our 
 child. 
 
 "If he is to do without both water and 
 sleep," said she, " he cannot long survive." 
 And I agreed with her. 
 
 She departed for a pleasant summer resort 
 where her married sister with her child was 
 staying, and from week to week I received 
 very pleasant letters from her, telling me of 
 the charms of the place, and dwelling particu 
 larly upon the abundance of cool spring 
 water with which the house was supplied. 
 
 While this terrible pounding was going on 
 I heard various reports of its effect upon my 
 neighbors. One of them, an agriculturist, 
 with whom I had always been on the best of 
 terms, came with a clouded brow. 
 
 " When I first felt those shakes," he said, 
 " I thought they were the effects of seismic 
 disturbances and I did not mind, but when I 
 
CA MB OUT OF IT 293 
 
 found it was your well I thought I ought to 
 come over to speak about it. I do not object 
 to the shaking of my barn, because my man 
 tells me the continual jolting is thrashing out 
 the oats and wheat, but I do not like to have 
 all my apples and pears shaken off my trees. 
 And then," said he, " I have a late brood of 
 chickens, and they cannot walk, because 
 every time they go to make a step they are 
 jolted into the air about a foot. And again, 
 we have had to give up having soup. We 
 like soup, but we do not care to have it spout 
 up like a fountain whenever that hammer 
 comes down." 
 
 I was grieved to trouble this friend, and I 
 asked him what I should do. "Do you want 
 me to stop the work on the well ? " said I. 
 
 " Oh, no," said he, heartily ; " go on with 
 the work. You must have water and we will 
 try to stand the bumping. I dare say it is 
 good for dyspepsia, and the cows are getting 
 used to having the grass jammed up against 
 their noses. Go ahead, we can stand it in 
 the daytime, but if you could stop the night- 
 work we would be very glad. Some people 
 may think it a well-spring of pleasure to be 
 bounced out of bed, but I don t." 
 
294 MY WELL AND WHAT 
 
 Mrs. Perch came to me with a face like a 
 squeezed lemon, and asked me if I could 
 lend her five nails. " What sort ? " said I. 
 
 " The kind you nail clapboards on with," 
 said she ; " there is one of them been shook 
 entirely off my house by your well. I am in 
 hopes that before the rest are all shook off I 
 shall get in some money that is owing me and 
 can afford to buy nails for myself." 
 
 I stopped the night-work, but this was all 
 I could do for these neighbors. 
 
 My optimist friend was delighted when he 
 heard of my driven well; he lived so far 
 away that he and his mother were not dis 
 turbed by the jarring of the ground. Now 
 he was sure that some of the internal secrets 
 of the earth would be laid bare, and he rode 
 or drove over every day to see what we were 
 getting out of the well. I know that he was 
 afraid we would soon get water, but was too 
 kind-hearted to say so. 
 
 One day the pipe refused to go deeper. No 
 matter how hard it was struck, it bounced up 
 again. When some of the substance it had 
 struck was brought up it looked like French 
 chalk, and my optimist eagerly examined it. 
 
 " A French-chalk mine," said he, " would 
 
GAME OUT OF IT 2D5 
 
 not be a bad thing, but I hoped that you had 
 struck a bed of mineral gutta-percha. That 
 would be a grand find." 
 
 But the chalk bed was at last passed and 
 we began again to bring up nothing but 
 common earth. 
 
 " I suppose," said my optimist to me one 
 morning, "that you must soon come to 
 water, and if you do I hope it will be hot 
 water." 
 
 " Hot water ! " I exclaimed, " I do not want 
 that." 
 
 "Oh, yes, you would if you had thought 
 about it as much as I have," he replied. " I 
 lay awake for hours last night, thinking what 
 would happen if you struck hot water. In the 
 first place, it would be absolutely pure, be 
 cause, even if it were possible for germs and 
 bacilli to get down so deep they would be 
 boiled before you got them, and then you 
 could cool that water for drinking. When 
 fresh it would be already heated for cooking 
 and hot baths. And then just think of it ! 
 you could introduce the hot-water system of 
 heating into your house, and there would be 
 the hot water always ready. But the great 
 thing would be your garden. Think of the 
 
296 MY WELL AND WHAT 
 
 refuse liot water circulating in pipes up and 
 down and under all your beds ! That garden 
 would bloom in the winter as others do in 
 the summer. At least, you could begin to 
 have lima beans and tomatoes as soon as the 
 frost was out of the air." 
 
 I laughed. " It would take a lot of pump 
 ing," I said, "to do all that with the hot 
 water." 
 
 " Oh, I forgot to say," he cried, with spark 
 ling eyes, " that I do not believe you would 
 ever have any more pumping to do. You 
 have now gone down so far that I am sure 
 whatever you find will force itself up. It will 
 spout high into the air or through all your 
 pipes and run always." 
 
 Phineas Colwell was by when this was 
 said, and he must have gone down to Mrs. 
 Betty Perch s house to talk it over with her, 
 for in the afternoon she came to see me. 
 
 " I understand," said she, " that you are 
 trying to get hot water out of your well, and 
 that there is likely to be a lot more than you 
 need, so that it will run down by the side of 
 the road. I just want to say that if a stream 
 of hot water comes down past my house some 
 of the children will be bound to get into it 
 
CAME OUT OF IT 297 
 
 and be scalded to death, and I came to say 
 that if that well is going to squirt biling 
 water I d like to have notice so that I can 
 move, though where a widow with so many 
 orphans is going to move to nobody knows. 
 Mr. Colwell says that if you had got him to 
 tell you where to put that well there would 
 have been no danger of this sort of thing." 
 
 The next day the optimist came to me, his 
 face fairly blazing with a new idea. " I rode 
 over on purpose to urge you," he cried, " if 
 you should strike hot water, not to stop there. 
 Go on, and, by George ! you may strike fire." 
 
 " Heavens ! " I cried. 
 
 " Oh, quite the opposite," said he, " but do 
 not let us joke. I think that would be the 
 grandest thing of this age. Think of a fire 
 well, with the flames shooting up perhaps a 
 hundred feet into the air ! " 
 
 I wish Phineas Colwell had not been there. 
 As it was he turned pale and sat down on the 
 wall. 
 
 " You look astonished ! " exclaimed the op 
 timist, "but listen to me. You have not 
 thought of this thing as I have. If you 
 should strike fire your fortune would be made. 
 By a system of reflectors you could light up 
 
298 MY WELL AND WHAT 
 
 the whole country. By means of tiles and 
 pipes this region could be made tropical. 
 You could warm all the houses in the neigh 
 borhood with hot air. And then the power 
 you could generate just think of it ! Heat 
 is power, the cost of power is the fuel. You 
 could furnish power to all who wanted it ; 
 you could fill this region with industries. 
 My dear sir, you must excuse my agitation, 
 but if you should strike fire there is no limit 
 to the possibilities of achievement." 
 
 " But I want water," said I ; " fire would 
 not take the place of that." 
 
 " Oh, water is a trifle," said he ; " you could 
 have pipes laid from town. It is only about 
 two miles. But fire ! Nobody has yet gone 
 down deep enough for that. You have your 
 future in your hands." 
 
 As I did not care to connect my future with 
 fire, this idea did not strike me very forcibly, 
 but it struck Phineas Colwell. He did not 
 say anything to me, but after I had gone he 
 went to the well-drivers. 
 
 " If you feel them pipes getting hot," he 
 said to them, "I warn you to stop. I have 
 been in countries where there are volcanoes 
 and I know what they are. There s enough 
 
CAME OUT OF IT 299 
 
 of them in this world and there s no need of 
 milking new ones." 
 
 In the afternoon a wagoner, who happened 
 to be passing, brought me a note from Mrs. 
 Perch, very badly spelled, asking if I would 
 let one of my men bring her a pail of water, 
 for she could not think of coming herself or 
 letting any of the children come near my 
 place if spouting fires were expected. 
 
 The well-driving had gone on and on with 
 intermissions on account of sickness in the 
 families of the various workmen, until it had 
 reached the limit which I had fixed, and we 
 had not found water in sufficient quantity, 
 hot or cold, nor had we struck fire, or any 
 thing else worth having. 
 
 The well-drivers and some specialists were 
 of the opinion that if I were to go ten, twenty, 
 or perhaps a hundred feet deeper, I would be 
 very likely to get all the water I wanted. 
 But of course they could not tell how deep 
 they must go, for some wells were over a 
 thousand feet deep. I shook my head at 
 this. There seemed to be only one thing 
 certain about this drilling business, and 
 that was the expense. I declined to go any 
 deeper. 
 
300 MY WELL AND WHAT 
 
 " I think," a facetious neighbor said to me, 
 " it would be cheaper for you to buy a lot of 
 Apollinaris water, at wholesale rates, of 
 course, and let your men open so many 
 bottles a day and empty them into your tank. 
 You would find that would pay better in the 
 long run." 
 
 Phineas Colwell told me that when he had 
 informed Mrs. Perch that I was going to stop 
 operations, she was in a dreadful state of 
 mind. "After all she had undergone," she 
 said, " it was simply cruel to think of my 
 stopping before I got water, and that after 
 having dried up her spring." 
 
 This is what Phineas said she said, but 
 when next I met her she told me that he had 
 declared that if I had put the well where he 
 thought it ought to be, I should have been 
 having all the water I wanted before now. 
 
 My optimist was dreadfully cast down when 
 he heard that I would drive no deeper. 
 
 " I have been afraid of this," he said. " 1 
 have been afraid of it, and if circumstances 
 had so arranged themselves that I should 
 have command of money, I should have been 
 glad to assume the expense of deeper explora 
 tions. I have been thinking a great deal 
 
GA ME OUT OF IT 301 
 
 about the matter, and I feel quite sure that 
 even if you did not get water or anything else 
 that might prove of value to you, it would be 
 a great advantage to have a pipe sunk into 
 the earth to the depth of, say, one thousand 
 feet." 
 
 " What possible advantage could that be ? " 
 I asked. 
 
 "I will tell you," he said. "You would 
 then have one of the grandest opportunities 
 ever offered to man of constructing a gravity 
 engine. This would be an engine which 
 would be of no expense at all to run. It 
 would need no fuel. Gravity would be the 
 power. It would work a pump splendidly. 
 You could start it when you liked and stop 
 it when you liked." 
 
 " Pump ! " said I, " what is the good of a 
 pump without water ? " 
 
 " Oh ! of course you would have to have 
 water," he answered; "but, no matter how 
 you get it, you will have to pump it up to 
 your tank so as to make it circulate over your 
 house. Now, my gravity pump would do 
 this beautifully. You see, the pump would 
 be arranged with cog wheels and all that sort 
 of thing, and the power would be supplied 
 
302 MY WELL AND WHAT 
 
 by a weight, which would be a cylinder of 
 lead or iron, fastened to a rope and run 
 down inside your pipe. Just think of it! 
 It would run down a thousand feet, and 
 where is there anything worked by weight 
 that has such a fall as that ? " 
 
 I laughed. "That is all very well," said 
 I; "but how about the power required to 
 wind that weight up again when it got to the 
 bottom? I should have to have an engine 
 to do that." 
 
 " Oh, no," said he. " I have planned the 
 thing better than that. You see, the greater 
 the weight the greater the power and the ve 
 locity. Now, if you take a solid cylinder of 
 lead about four inches in diameter, so that it 
 would slip easily down your pipe you might 
 grease it for that matter and twenty feet in 
 length, it would be an enormous weight, and 
 in slowly descending for about an hour a day 
 for that would be long enough for your 
 pumping and going down a thousand feet, 
 it would run your engine for a year. Now 
 then, at the end of the year you could not 
 expect to haul that weight up again. You 
 would have a trigger arrangement which 
 would detach it from the rope when it got to 
 
GAME OUT OF IT 303 
 
 the bottom. Then you would wind up your 
 rope a man could do that in a short time 
 and you would attach another cylinder of 
 lead and that would run your engine for an 
 other year, minus a few days, because it would 
 only go down 980 feet. The next year you 
 would put on another cylinder and so on. 
 I have not worked out the figures exactly, but 
 I thiak that in this way your engine would 
 run for thirty years before the pipe became 
 entirely filled with cylinders. That would 
 be probably as long as you would care to 
 have water forced into the house." 
 
 "Yes," said I. "I think that is likely." 
 He saw that his scheme did not strike me 
 favorably. Suddenly a light flashed across 
 his face. 
 
 "I tell you what you can do with your 
 pipe," he said, "just as it is. You can set 
 up a clock over it which would run for forty 
 years without winding." 
 
 I smiled, and he turned sadly away to his 
 horse, but he had not ridden ten yards before 
 he came back and called to me over the wall. 
 
 " If the earth at the bottom of your pipe 
 should ever yield to pressure and give way, 
 and if water or gas, or anything, should be 
 
304 MY WELL AND WHAT 
 
 squirted out of it, I beg you will let me know 
 as soon as possible." 
 
 I promised to do so. 
 
 When the pounding was at an end my wife 
 and child came home. But the season con 
 tinued dry, and even their presence could not 
 counteract the feeling of aridity which seemed 
 to permeate everything which belonged to 
 us, material or immaterial. We had a great 
 deal of commiseration from our neighbors. I 
 think even Mrs. Betty Perch began to pity us 
 a little, for her spring had begun to trickle 
 again in a small way, and she sent word to 
 me that if we were really in need of water she 
 would be willing to divide with us. Phineas 
 Colwell was sorry for us, of course, but he 
 could not help feeling and saying that if I 
 had consulted him the misfortune would have 
 been prevented. 
 
 It was late in the summer when my wife 
 returned, and when she made her first visit of 
 inspection to the grounds and gardens her 
 eyes, of course, fell upon the unfinished well. 
 She was shocked. 
 
 " I never saw such a scene of wreckage," 
 she said. " It looks like a Western town after 
 a cyclone. I think the best thing you can do 
 
CAME OUT OF IT 305 
 
 is to have this dreadful litter cleared up, 
 the ground smoothed and raked, the wall 
 mended, and the roof put back on that little 
 house, and then if we can make anybody be 
 lieve it is an ice-house so much the better." 
 
 This was good advice, and I sent for a man 
 to put the vicinity of the well in order and 
 give it the air of neatness which characterizes 
 the rest of our home. 
 
 The man who came was named Mr. Barnet. 
 He was a contemplative fellow, with a pipe 
 in his mouth. After having worked at the 
 place for half a day he sent for me and said : 
 
 " I will tell you what I would do if I was 
 in your place. I d put that pump-house in 
 order, and I d set up the engine, and put the 
 pump down into that thirty-foot well you first 
 dug, and I d pump water into my house." 
 
 I looked at him in amazement. 
 
 " There s lots of water in that well," he con 
 tinued, " and if there s that much now in this 
 drought, you will surely have ever so much 
 more when the weather isn t so dry. I have 
 measured the water and I know." 
 
 I could not understand him. It seemed to 
 me that he was talking wildly. He filled his 
 pipe and lighted it and sat upon the wall. 
 
306 MY WELL AND WHAT 
 
 "Now," said he, after he had taken a few 
 puffs, " I ll tell you where the trouble s been 
 with your well. People are always in too big 
 a hurry in this world about all sorts of things 
 as well as wells. I am a well-digger and I 
 know all about them. We know if there is 
 any water in the ground it will always find its 
 way to the deepest hole there is, and we dig a 
 well so as to give it a deep hole to go to in the 
 place where we want it. But you can t expect 
 the water to come to that hole just the very 
 day it s finished. Of course you will get some, 
 because it s right there in the neighborhood, 
 but there is always a lot more that will come if 
 you give it time. It s got to make little chan 
 nels and passages for itself, and of course it 
 takes time to do that. It s like settling up a 
 new country. Only a few pioneers come at 
 first, and you have to wait for the population 
 to flow in. This being a dry season, and the 
 water in the ground a little sluggish on that 
 account, it was a good while finding out where 
 your well was. If I had happened along 
 when 3 r ou was talking about a well I think I 
 should have said to you that I knew a proverb 
 which would about fit your case, and that is : 
 Let well enough, alone. " 
 
CAME OUT OF IT 307 
 
 I felt like taking this good man by tlio 
 hand, but I did not. I only told him to 
 go ahead and do everything that was 
 proper. 
 
 The next morning as I was going to the 
 well I saw Phineas Colwell coming down the 
 lane and Mrs. Betty Perch coming up it. I 
 did not wish them to question me, so I 
 stepped behind some bushes. When they 
 met they stopped. 
 
 " Upon my word ! " exclaimed Mrs. Betty, 
 " if he isn t going to work again on that ever 
 lasting well. If he s got so much money he 
 don t know what to do with it, I could tell 
 him that there s people in this world, and not 
 far away either, who would be the better for 
 some of it. It s a sin and a shame, and an 
 abomination. Do you believe, Mr. Colwell, 
 that there is the least chance in the world of 
 his ever getting water enough out of that 
 well to shave himself with ? " 
 
 "Mrs. Perch," said Phineas, "it ain t no 
 use talking about that well. It ain t no use 
 and it never can be no use, because it s in the 
 wrong place. If he ever pumps water out of 
 that well into his house I ll do 
 
 " What will you do ? " asked Mr. Barnet, 
 
308 MY WELL AND WHAT 
 
 who just then appeared from the recesses of 
 the engine-house. 
 
 " I ll do anything on this earth that you 
 choose to name," said Phineas. " I am safe 
 whatever it is." 
 
 "Well, then," said Mr. Barnet, knocking 
 the ashes from his pipe preparatory to filling 
 it again, " will you marry Mrs. Perch ? " 
 
 Phineas laughed. "Yes," he said. "I 
 promised I would do anything, and I ll 
 promise that." 
 
 " A slim chance for me," said Mrs. Betty, 
 " even if I d have you," and she marched on 
 with her nose in the air. 
 
 When Mr. Barnet got fairly to work with 
 his derrick, his men, and his buckets, he 
 found that there was a good deal more to do 
 than he had expected. The well-drivers had 
 injured the original well by breaking some 
 of the tiles which lined it, and these had to 
 be taken out and others put in, and in the 
 course of this work other improvements sug 
 gested themselves and were made. Several 
 times operations were delayed by sickness in 
 the family of Mr. Barnet, and also in the 
 families of his workmen, but still the work 
 went on in a very fair manner, although 
 
CAME OUT OF IT 309 
 
 much more slowly than had been supposed 
 by any one. But in the course of time I 
 will not say how much time the work was 
 finished, the engine was in its place and it 
 pumped water into my house, and every day 
 since then it has pumped all the water we 
 need, pure, cold, and delicious. 
 
 Knowing the promise Phineas Colwell had 
 made, and feeling desirous of having every 
 thing which concerned my well settled and 
 finished, I went to look for him to remind 
 him of his duty toward Mrs. Perch, but I 
 could not find that naval and military me 
 chanical agriculturist. He had gone away to 
 take a job or a contract I could not discover 
 which and he has not since appeared in our 
 neighborhood. Mrs. Perch is very severe on 
 me about this. 
 
 " There s plenty of bad things come out of 
 that well," she said, " but I never thought 
 anything bad enough would come out of it 
 to make Mr. Colwell go away and leave me 
 to keep on being a widow with all them 
 orphans." 
 
STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S 
 CHRISTMAS 
 
 An Archaism 
 
STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S 
 CHRISTMAS 
 
 An Archaism 
 
 WAS Christmas eve. An adamantine 
 sky hung dark and heavy over the 
 white earth. The forests were canescent with 
 frost, and the great trees bent as if they were 
 not able to sustain the weight of snow and ice 
 with which the young winter had loaded them. 
 
 In a by-path of the solemn woods there 
 stood a cottage that would not, perhaps, have 
 been noticed in the decreasing twilight, had it 
 not been for a little wisp of smoke that feebly 
 curled from the chimney, apparently intend 
 ing, every minute, to draw up its attenuat 
 ed tail, and disappear. Within, around the 
 hearth whereon the dying embers sent up 
 that feeble smoke, there gathered the family 
 of Arthur Tyrrell himself, his wife, a boy, 
 and a girl. 
 
 Twas Christmas eve. A damp air rushed 
 
314 STEPHEN 8K ABRIDGE* 8 CHRISTMAS 
 
 from the recesses of the forest and came, an 
 unbidden guest, into the cottage of the Tyr- 
 rells, and it sat on every chair, and lay 
 upon every bed, and held in its chilly em 
 brace every member of the family. All 
 sighed. 
 
 "Father," said the boy, "is there no more 
 wood, that I may replenish the fire ? " 
 
 "No, my son," bitterly replied the father, 
 his face hidden in his hands ; " I brought, at 
 noon, the last stick from the wood-pile." 
 
 The mother, at these words, wiped a silent 
 tear from her eyes, and drew her children yet 
 nearer the smouldering coals. The father 
 rose and moodily stood by the window, gaz 
 ing out upon the night. A wind had now 
 arisen, and the dead branches strewed the 
 path that he soon must take to the neighbor 
 ing town. But he cared not for the danger ; 
 his fate and heart were alike hard. 
 
 "Mother!" said the little girl, "shall I 
 hang up my stocking to-night ? Tis Christ 
 mas eve." 
 
 A Damascus blade could not have cut the 
 mother s heart more keenly than this ques 
 tion. 
 
 " No, dear," she faltered. " You must wear 
 
STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 315 
 
 your stockings there is no fire and your 
 feet, uncovered, will freeze." 
 
 The little girl sighed, and gazed sadly 
 upon the blackening coals. But she raised 
 her head again and said, 
 
 " But, mother dear, if I should sleep with 
 my legs outside the clothes, old Santa Glaus 
 might slip in some little things between the 
 stocking and my skin; could he not, dear 
 mother?" 
 
 " Mother is weeping, sister," said the boy, 
 " press her no further." 
 
 The father now drew around him his thread 
 bare coat, put upon his head his well-brushed 
 straw hat, and approached the door. 
 
 "Where are you going, this bitter night, 
 dear father ? " cried his little son. 
 
 " He goes," then said the weeping mother, 
 " to the town. Disturb him not, my son, for 
 he will buy a mackerel for our Christmas din 
 ner." 
 
 " A mackerel ! " cried both the children, 
 and their eyes sparkled with joy. The boy 
 sprang to his feet. 
 
 "You must not go alone, dear father," he 
 cried. " I will accompany you." 
 
 And together they left the cottage. 
 
316 STEPHEN SKARRIDGtfS CHRISTMAS 
 
 The streets were crowded with merry faces 
 and well wrapped-up forms. Snow and ice, it 
 is true, lay thick upon the pavements and 
 roofs, but what of that ? Bright lights glis 
 tened from every window, bright fires warmed 
 and softened the air within the houses, while 
 bright hearts made rosy and happy the coun 
 tenances of the merry crowd without. In 
 some of the shops great turkeys hung in 
 placid obesity from the bending beams, and 
 enormous bowls of mince-meat sent up de 
 lightful fumes, which mingled harmoniously 
 with the scents of the oranges, the apples, 
 and the barrels of sugar and bags of spices. 
 In others, the light from the chandeliers 
 struck upon the polished surface of many a 
 new wheelbarrow, sled, or hobby-horse, or 
 lighted up the placid features of recumbent 
 dolls and the demoniacal countenances of 
 wildly jumping jacks. The crop of marbles 
 and tops was almost more than could be gar 
 nered ; boxes and barrels of soldiers stood on 
 every side ; tin horns hung from every promi 
 nence, and boxes of wonders filled the coun 
 ters; while all the floor was packed with 
 joyous children carrying their little purses. 
 Beyond, there stood the candy-stores those 
 
STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 317 
 
 earthly paradises of the young, where golden 
 gumdrops, rare cream chocolate, variegated 
 mint-stick, and enrapturing mixtures spread 
 their sweetened wealth over all available 
 space. 
 
 To these and many other shops and stores 
 and stalls and stands thronged the towns 
 people, rich and poor. Even the humblest 
 had some money to spend upon this merry 
 Christmas eve. A damsel of the lower or 
 ders might here be seen hurrying home with 
 a cheap chicken ; here another with a duck ; 
 and here the saving father of a family bending 
 under the load of a turkey and a huge basket 
 of good things. Everywhere were cheerful 
 lights and warm hearthstones, bright and 
 gay mansions, cosey and comfortable little 
 tenements, happy hearts, rosy cheeks, and 
 bright eyes. Nobody cared for the snow and 
 ice, while they had so much that was warm 
 and cheering. It was all the better for the 
 holiday what would Christmas be without 
 snow ? 
 
 Through these jo} r ous crowds down the 
 hilarious streets, where the happy boys were 
 shouting, and the merry girls were hurrying 
 in and out of the shops came a man who was 
 
318 STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 
 
 neither joyous, hilarious, merry, nor happy. 
 It was Stephen Skarridge, the landlord of 
 many houses in that town. He wore an over 
 coat, which, though old, was warm and com 
 fortable, and he had fur around his wrists and 
 his neck. His hat was pushed down tight 
 upon his little head, as though he would shut 
 out all the sounds of merriment which filled 
 the town. Wife and child he had none, and 
 this season of joy to all the Christian world 
 was an annoying and irritating season to his 
 unsympathetic, selfish heart. 
 
 " Oh, ho ! " he said to himself, as one after 
 another of his tenants, loaded down with 
 baskets and bundles, hurried by, each wish 
 ing him a merry Christmas; "oh, ho! there 
 seems to be a great ease in the money market 
 just now. Oh, ho, ho! They all seem as 
 flush as millionnaires. There s nothing like 
 the influence of holiday times to make one 
 open his pockets ha, ha ! It s not yet the 
 first of the month, tis true ; but it matters 
 not I ll go and collect my rents to-night, 
 while all this money is afloat oh, ho ! ha, 
 ha!" 
 
 Now old Skarridge went from house to 
 house, and threatened with expulsion all who 
 
STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 319 
 
 did not pay their rents that night. Some re 
 sisted bravely, for the settlement day had not 
 yet arrived, and these were served with no 
 tices to leave at the earliest legal moment ; 
 others paid up to their dues with many an 
 angry protest ; while some, poor souls, had 
 no money ready for this unforeseen demand, 
 and Stephen Skarridge seized whatever he 
 could find that would satisfy his claim. 
 Thus many a poor, weeping family saw the 
 turkey or the fat goose which was to have 
 graced the Christmas table carried away by 
 the relentless landlord. The children shed 
 tears to see their drums and toys depart, and 
 many a little memento of affection, intended 
 for a gift upon the morrow, became the prop 
 erty of the hard-hearted Stephen. Twas 
 nearly nine o clock when Skarridge finished 
 his nefarious labor. He had converted his 
 seizures into money, and was returning to 
 his inhospitable home with more joyous 
 light in his eyes than had shone there for 
 many a day, when he saw Arthur Tyrrell 
 and his son enter the bright main street of 
 the town. 
 
 " Oh, ho ! " said Stephen ; " has he, too, 
 come to spend his Christmas money ? He, 
 
320 STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 
 
 the poor, miserable, penniless one ! I ll fol 
 low him." 
 
 So behind the unhappy father and his son 
 went the skulking Skarridge. Past the gro 
 cery store and the markets, with their rich 
 treasures of eatables; past the toy-shops, 
 where the boy s eyes sparkled with the delight 
 which disappointment soon washed out with 
 a tear ; past the candy-shops, where the win 
 dows were so entrancing that the little fellow 
 could scarcely look upon them on, past all 
 these, to a small shop at the bottom of the 
 street, where a crowd of the very poorest 
 people were making their little purchases, 
 went the father and his son, followed by the 
 evil-minded Skarridge. When the Tyrrells 
 went into the shop, the old man concealed 
 himself outside, behind a friendly pillar, lest 
 any of these poor people should happen to 
 be his tenants, and return him the damage 
 he had just done to them. But he very plainly 
 saw Arthur Tyrrell go up to the counter and 
 ask for a mackerel. When one was brought, 
 costing ten cents, he declined it, but event 
 ually purchased a smaller one, the price of 
 which was eight cents. The two cents which 
 he received as change were expended for a 
 
STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 321 
 
 modicum of lard, and father and son then 
 left the store and wended their way home 
 ward. The way was long, but the knowledge 
 that they brought, that which would make 
 the next day something more like Christmas 
 than an ordinary day, made their steps light 
 er and the path less wearisome. 
 
 They reached the cottage and opened the 
 door. There, by a rushlight on a table, sat 
 the mother and the little girl, arranging greens 
 wherewith to decorate their humble home. 
 To the mute interrogation of the mother s 
 eyes the father said, with something of the 
 old fervor in his voice : 
 
 " Yes, my dear, I have brought it ; " and he 
 laid the mackerel on the table. The little girl 
 sprang up to look at it, and the boy stepped 
 back to shut the door; but before he could 
 do so, it was pushed wide open, and Skar- 
 ridge, who had followed them all the way, 
 entered the cottage. The inmates gazed at 
 him with astonishment ; but they did not 
 long remain in ignorance of the meaning of 
 this untimely visit. 
 
 " Mr. Tyrrell," said Skarridge, taking out 
 of his pocket a huge memorandum-book, and 
 turning over the pages with a swift and prac- 
 
322 STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 
 
 tised hand, " I believe you owe ine two 
 months rent. Let me see yes, here it is 
 eighty-seven and a half cents two months 
 at forty-three and three-quarters cents per 
 month. I should like to have it now, if you 
 please," and he stood with his head on one 
 side, his little eyes gleaming with a yellow 
 maliciousness. 
 
 Arthur Tyrrell arose. His wife crept to 
 his side, and the two children ran behind 
 their parents. 
 
 " Sir," said Tyrrell, " I have no money 
 do your worst." 
 
 " No money ! " cried the hard-hearted Ste 
 phen. "That story will not do for me. 
 Everybody seerns to have money to-night ; 
 and if they have none, it is because they have 
 wilfully spent it. But if you really have 
 none " and here a ray of hope shot through 
 the hearts of the Tyrrell family " you must 
 have something that will bring money, and 
 that I shall seize upon. Ah, ha ! I will take 
 this!" 
 
 And he picked up the Christmas mackerel 
 from the table where Arthur had laid it. 
 
 " Tis very little," said Skarridge, " but it 
 will at least pay me my interest." Wrapping 
 
STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 323 
 
 it in the brown paper which lay under it, he 
 thrust it into his capacious pocket, and with 
 out another word went out into the night. 
 
 Arthur Tyrrell sank into a chair, and cov 
 ered his face with his hands. His children, 
 dumb with horror and dismay, clung to the 
 rounds of his chair, while his wife, ever faith 
 ful in the day of sorrow as in that of joy, 
 put her arm around his neck and whispered 
 in his ear, " Cheer up, dear Arthur, all may 
 yet be well ; have courage ! He did not take 
 the lard ! " 
 
 Swiftly homeward, through the forest, 
 walked the triumphant Skarridge, and he 
 reached his home an hour before midnight. 
 He lived alone, in a handsome house (which 
 he had seized for a debt), an old woman com 
 ing every day to prepare his meals and do 
 the little housework that he required. Open 
 ing his door with his latch-key, he hurried 
 upstairs, lighted a candle, and seating him 
 self at a large table in a spacious room in the 
 front of the house, he counted over the 
 money he had collected that evening, entered 
 the amount in one of the great folios which 
 lay upon the table, and locked up the cash in 
 a huge safe. Then he took from his pocket 
 
324 STEPHEN SKARRIDQE S CHRISTMAS 
 
 the mackerel of the Tyrrell family. He 
 opened it, laid it flat upon the table before 
 him, and divided it by imaginary lines into 
 six parts. 
 
 " Here," said he to himself, " are breakfasts 
 for six days I would it were a week. I like 
 to have things square and even. Had that 
 man bought the ten-cent fish that I saw of 
 fered him, there would have been seven por 
 tions. Well, perhaps I can make it do, even 
 now let me see ! A little off here and the 
 same off this so " 
 
 At this moment something very strange oc 
 curred. The mackerel, which had been lying, 
 split open, upon its back, now closed itself, 
 gave two or three long-drawn gasps, and then 
 heaving a sigh of relief, it flapped its tail, 
 rolled its eyes a little, and deliberately wrig 
 gling itself over to a pile of ledgers, sat up on 
 its tail, and looked at Skarridge. This as 
 tounded individual pushed back his chair and 
 gazed with all his eyes at the strange fish. 
 But he was more astounded yet, when the 
 fish spoke to him. " "Would you mind," said 
 the mackerel, making a very wry face, " get 
 ting me a glass of water? I feel all of a 
 parch inside." 
 
STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 325 
 
 Skarridge mumbled out some sort of an as 
 sent, and hurried to a table near by, where 
 stood a pitcher and a glass, and filling the 
 latter, he brought it to the mackerel. " Will 
 you hold it to my mouth ? " said the fish. 
 Stephen complying, the mackerel drank a 
 good half of the water. 
 
 " There," it said, " that makes me feel bet 
 ter. I don t mind brine if I can take exer 
 cise. But to lie perfectly still in salt water 
 makes one feel wretched. You don t know 
 how hungry I am. Have you any worms 
 convenient ? " 
 
 "Worms!" cried Stephen, "why, what a 
 question ! No, I have no worms." 
 
 " Well," said the fish, somewhat petulantly, 
 " you must have some sort of a yard or gar 
 den ; go and dig me some." 
 
 " Dig them ! " cried Stephen. " Do you 
 know it s winter, and the ground s frozen 
 and the worms too, for that matter ? " 
 
 "I don t care anything for all that," said 
 the mackerel. "Go you and dig some up. 
 Frozen or thawed, it is all one to me now ; I 
 could eat them any way." 
 
 The manner of the fish was so imperative 
 that Stephen Skarridge did not think of dis- 
 
326 STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 
 
 obeying, but taking a crowbar and a spade 
 from a pile of agricultural implements that 
 lay in one corner of the room (and which had 
 at various times been seized for debts), he 
 lighted a lantern and went down into the 
 little back garden. There he shovelled away 
 the snow, and when he reached the ground 
 he was obliged to use the crowbar vigorously 
 before he could make any impression on 
 the frozen earth. After a half-hour s hard 
 labor, he managed, by most carefully search 
 ing through the earth thrown out of the hole 
 he had made, to find five frozen worms. 
 These he considered a sufficient meal for a 
 fish which would scarcely make seven meals 
 for himself, and so he threw down his im 
 plements and went into the house, with his 
 lantern, his five frozen worms, and twice as 
 many frozen fingers. When he reached the 
 bottom of the stairs he was certain that he 
 heard the murmur of voices from above. 
 He was terrified. The voices came from the 
 room where all his treasures lay ! Could it 
 be thieves ? 
 
 Extinguishing his lantern and taking off 
 his shoes, he softly crept up the stairs. He 
 had not quite closed the door of the room 
 
STEPHEN SKARRIDG&S CHRISTMAS 327 
 
 when lie left it, and he could now look through 
 an opening which commanded a view of the 
 whole apartment. And such a sight now met 
 his wide-stretched eyes ! 
 
 In his chair his own arm-chair by the 
 table, there sat a dwarf, whose head, as large 
 as a prize cabbage, was placed upon a body 
 so small as not to be noticeable, and from 
 which depended a pair of little legs appearing 
 like the roots of the before-mentioned vege 
 table. On the table, busily engaged in dust 
 ing a day-book with a pen-wiper, was a fairy, 
 no more than a foot high, and as pretty and 
 graceful as a queen of the ballet viewed from 
 the dress circle. The mackerel still leaned 
 against the pile of ledgers ; and oh horror ! 
 upon a great iron box, in one corner, there 
 sat a giant, whose head, had he stood up, 
 would have reached the lofty ceiling ! 
 
 A chill, colder than the frosty earth and 
 air outside could cause, ran through the 
 frame of Stephen Skarridge, as he crouched 
 by the crack of the door and looked upon 
 these dreadful visitors, while their conversa 
 tion, of which he could hear distinctly every 
 word, caused the freezing perspiration to 
 trickle in icy globules down his back. 
 
328 STEPHEN SKARRIDOE S CHRISTMAS 
 
 " He s gone to get me some worms," said 
 the mackerel, " and we might as well settle it 
 all before he conies back. For my part I m 
 very sure of what I have been saying." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said the dwarf ; " there can be 
 no doubt about it, at all. I believe it, every 
 word." 
 
 " Of course it is so," said the fairy, stand 
 ing upon the day-book, which was now well 
 dusted ; " everybody knows it is." 
 
 " It couldn t be otherwise," said the giant, 
 in a voice like thunder among the pines ; 
 " we re all agreed upon that." 
 
 " They re mighty positive about it, what 
 ever it is," thought the trembling Stephen j 
 who continued to look with all his eyes and 
 to listen with all his ears. 
 
 " Well," said the dwarf, leaning back in the 
 chair and twisting his little legs around each 
 other until they looked like a rope s end, 
 " let us arrange matters. For my part, I 
 would like to see all crooked things made 
 straight, just as quickly as possible." 
 
 " So would I," said the fairy, sitting 
 down on the day-book, and crossing her 
 dainty satin-covered ankles, from which she 
 stooped to brush a trifle of dust ; "I want 
 
STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 329 
 
 to see everything nice, and pretty, and just 
 right." 
 
 " As for ine," said the mackerel, " I m 
 somewhat divided in my opinion, I mean 
 but whatever you all agree upon, will suit 
 me, I m sure." 
 
 " Then," said the giant, rising to his feet, 
 and just escaping a violent contact of his 
 head with the ceiling, " let us get to work, 
 and while we are about it, we ll make a clean 
 sweep of it." 
 
 To this the others all gave assent, and the 
 giant, after moving the mackerel to one cor 
 ner of the table, and requesting the fairy to 
 stand beside the fish, spread all the ledgers, 
 and day-books, and the cash, bill, and memo 
 randum books upon the table, and opened 
 each of them at the first page. 
 
 Then the dwarf climbed up on the table 
 and took a pen, and the fairy did the same, 
 and they both set to work, as hard as they 
 could, to take an account of Stephen Skar- 
 ridge s possessions. As soon as either of 
 them had added up two pages the giant 
 turned over the leaves, and he had to be very 
 busy about it, so active was the dwarf, who 
 had a splendid head for accounts, and who 
 
330 STEPHEN SKARRIDQE S CHRISTMAS 
 
 had balanced the same head so long upon his 
 little legs that he had no manner of difficulty 
 in balancing a few ledgers. The fairy, too, 
 ran up and down the columns as if she were 
 dancing a measure in which the only move 
 ments were " Forward one ! " and " Backward 
 one ! " and she got over her business nearly as 
 fast as the dwarf. As for the mackerel, he 
 could not add up, but the fairy told him what 
 figures she had to carry to the next column, 
 and he remembered them for her, and thus 
 helped her a great deal. In less than half an 
 hour the giant turned over the last page of 
 the last book, and the dwarf put down on a 
 large sheet of foolscap the sum total of Ste 
 phen Skarridge s wealth. 
 
 The fairy read out the sum, and the woeful 
 listener at the door was forced to admit to 
 himself that they had got it exactly right. 
 
 " Now, then," said the giant, " here is the 
 rent list. Let us make out the schedule." 
 In twenty minutes the giant, the dwarf, and 
 the fairy the last reading out the names of 
 Stephen s various tenants, the giant stating 
 what amounts he deemed the due of each 
 one, and the dwarf putting down the sums 
 opposite their names had made out the 
 
STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 331 
 
 schedule, and the giant read it over in a voice 
 that admitted of no inattention. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " said the dwarf. " That s done, 
 and I m glad," and he stepped lightly from 
 the table to the arm of the chair, and then 
 down to the seat, and jumped to the floor, 
 balancing his head in the most wonderful 
 way, as he performed these agile feats. 
 
 "Yes," said the mackerel, "it s all right, 
 though to be sure I m somewhat divided 
 
 " Oh ! we won t refer to that now," said the 
 giant; "let by-gones be by-gones." 
 
 As for the fairy, she did not say a word, 
 but she made a bounce to the top of the day 
 book which she had dusted, and which now 
 lay closed near the edge of the table, and she 
 danced such a charming little fantaisie that 
 everybody gazed at her with delight. The 
 giant stooped and opened his mouth as if he 
 expected her to whirl herself into it when she 
 was done ; and the mackerel was actually 
 moved to tears, and tried to wipe his eyes 
 with his fin, but it was not long enough, and 
 so the tears rolled down and hardened into a 
 white crust on the green baize which covered 
 the table. The dwarf was on the floor, and 
 he stood motionless on his little toes, as if he 
 
332 STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 
 
 had been a great top dead asleep. Even Ste 
 phen, though he was terribly agitated, thought 
 the dance was the most beautiful thing he 
 had ever seen. At length, with a whirl which 
 made her look like a snow-ball on a pivot, 
 she stopped stock-still, standing on one toe, 
 as if she had fallen from the sky and had 
 stuck upright on the day-book. 
 
 " Bravo! bravo!" cried the dwarf, and you 
 could hear his little hands clapping beneath 
 his head. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " cried the giant, and he brought 
 his great palms together with a clap that rat 
 tled the window-panes, like the report of a 
 cannon. 
 
 " Very nice ! very nice, indeed ! " said the 
 mackerel. " Though I m rather di " 
 
 " Oh, no, you re not ! " cried the fairy, mak 
 ing a sudden joyful jump at him, and putting 
 her little hand on his somewhat distorted and 
 certainly very ugly mouth. " You re nothing 
 of the kind, and now let s have him in here 
 and make him sign. Do you think he will 
 do it ? " said she, turning to the giant. That 
 mighty individual doubled up his great right 
 fist like a trip-hammer, and he opened his 
 great left hand, as hard and solid as an anvil, 
 
STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 333 
 
 and lie brought the two together with a sound 
 ing whang ! 
 
 " Yes," said he, "I think he will." 
 
 "In that case," said the dwarf, "we might 
 as well call him." 
 
 " I sent him after some worms," said the 
 mackerel, " but he has not been all this time 
 getting them. I should not wonder at all if 
 he had been listening at the door all the 
 while." 
 
 " We ll soon settle that," said the dwarf, 
 walking rapidly across the room, his head 
 rolling from side to side, but still preserving 
 that admirable balance for which it was so 
 justly noted. \Y nen he reached the door he 
 piilled it wide open, and there stood poor 
 Stephen Skarridge, trembling from head to 
 foot, with the five frozen worms firmly grasped 
 in his hands. 
 
 " Come in ! " said the giant, and Stephen 
 walked in slowly and fearfully, bowing as 
 he came, to the several personages in the 
 room. 
 
 " Are those my worms ? " said the mackerel. 
 " If so, put them in my mouth, one at a time. 
 There ! not so fast. They are frozen, sure 
 enough; but do you know that I believe I 
 
334: STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 
 
 like them this way the best. I never tasted 
 frozen ones before." 
 
 By this time the dwarf had mounted the 
 table, and opening the schedule, stood point 
 ing to an agreement written at the bottom 
 of it, while the fairy had a pen already 
 dipped in the ink, which she held in her 
 hand, as she stood on the other side of the 
 schedule. 
 
 " Now, sir ! " said the giant, " just take your 
 seat in your chair, take that pen in your hand, 
 and sign your name below that agreement. 
 If you ve been listening at the door all this 
 time, as I believe you have, you have heard 
 the contents of the schedule, and therefore 
 need not read it over." 
 
 Stephen thought no more of disobeying 
 than he did of challenging the giant to a bat 
 tle, and he therefore seated himself in his 
 chair, and taking the pen from the fairy, wrote 
 his name at the bottom of the agreement, al 
 though he knew that by that act he was sign 
 ing away half his wealth. When he had writ 
 ten his signature he laid down his pen and 
 looked around to see if anything more was re 
 quired of him ; but just at that moment some 
 thing seemed to give way in the back of his 
 
STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 335 
 
 neck, his head fell forward so as to nearly 
 strike the table, and he awoke ! 
 
 There was no longer a schedule, a fairy, a 
 dwarf, or a giant. In front of him was the 
 mackerel, split open and lying on its back. 
 
 It was all a dream ! 
 
 For an hour Stephen Skarridge sat at his 
 table, his face buried in his hands. When, 
 at last, his candle gave signs of spluttering 
 out, he arose, and, with a subdued and quiet 
 air, he went to bed. 
 
 The next morning was bright, cold, and 
 cheering, and Stephen Skarridge arose very 
 early, went down to the large front room where 
 his treasures were kept, got out his check 
 book, and for two hours was busily emplo} T ed 
 in writing. When the old woman who at 
 tended to his household affairs arrived at the 
 usual hour, she was surprised at his orders to 
 cook, for his breakfast, the whole of a mack 
 erel which he handed her. When he had 
 finished his meal, at which he ate at least one- 
 half of the fish, he called her up into his room. 
 He then addressed her as follows : 
 
 " Margaret, you have been my servant for 
 seventeen years. During that time I have 
 paid you fifty cents per week for your ser- 
 
336 STEPHEN SKAREIDGE S CHRISTMAS 
 
 vices. I am now convinced that the sum was 
 insufficient ; you should have had, at least, two 
 dollars considering you only had one meal 
 in the house. As you would probably have 
 spent the money as fast as I gave it to you, 
 I shall pay you no interest upon what I have 
 withheld, but here is a check for the unpaid 
 balance one thousand three hundred and 
 twenty -six dollars. Invest it carefully, and 
 you will find it quite a help to you." Hand 
 ing the paper to the astounded woman, he 
 took up a large wallet, stuffed with checks, 
 and left the house. 
 
 He went down into the lower part of the 
 town, with a countenance full of lively fervor 
 and generous light. When he reached the 
 quarter where his property lay, he spent an 
 hour or two in converse with his tenants, and 
 when he had spoken with the last one, his 
 wallet was nearly empty, and he was followed 
 by a wildly joyful crowd, who would have 
 brought a chair and carried him in triumph 
 through the town, had he not calmly waved 
 them back. 
 
 When the concourse of grateful ones had 
 left him, he repaired to the house of Philip 
 Weaver, the butcher, and hired his pony and 
 
STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 337 
 
 spring cart. Then he went to Ambrose 
 Smith, the baker (at whose shop he had 
 stopped on his way doAvn-town), and inquired 
 if his orders had been filled. Although it 
 was Christmas morning, Ambrose and his 
 seven assistants were all as busy as bees, but 
 they had not yet been able to fill said orders. 
 In an hour, however, Ambrose came himself 
 to a candy store, where Stephen was treating 
 a crowd of delighted children, and told him 
 all was ready and the cart loaded. At this, 
 Stephen hurried to the baker s shop, mounted 
 the cart, took the reins, and drove rapidly in 
 the direction of the cottage of Arthur Tyrrell. 
 When he reached the place it was nearly one 
 o clock. 
 
 Driving cautiously, as he neared the house, 
 he stopped at a little distance from it, and 
 tied the horse to a tree. Then he stealthily 
 approached a window and looked in. 
 
 Arthur Tyrrell sat upon a chair, in the 
 middle of the room, his arms folded and his 
 head bowed upon his breast. On a stool by 
 his left side sat his wife, her tearful eyes 
 raised to his sombre countenance. Before 
 her father stood the little girl, leaning upon 
 his knees and watching the varied expressions 
 
338 STEPHEN SKARRIDGE 8 CHRISTMAS 
 
 that flashed across his face. By his father s 
 right side, his arm resting upon his parent s 
 shoulder, stood the boy, a look of calm res 
 ignation far beyond his years lighting up his 
 intelligent face. 
 
 Twas a tableau never to be forgotten ! 
 
 Able to gaze upon it but a few minutes, 
 Stephen Skamdge pushed open the door and 
 entered the room. His entrance was the 
 signal of consternation. The wife and chil 
 dren fled to the farthest corner of the room, 
 while Arthur Tyrrell arose and sternly con 
 fronted the intruder. 
 
 " Ha ! " said he. " You have soon returned. 
 You think that we can be yet further de 
 spoiled. Proceed, take all we have. There 
 is yet this," and he pointed to the two cents 
 worth of lard, which still lay upon the 
 table. 
 
 " No, no," faltered Stephen Skarridge, seiz 
 ing the hand of Arthur Tyrrell and warmly 
 pressing it. " Keep it ! Keep it ! Tis not 
 for that I came, but to ask your pardon and 
 to beg your acceptance of a Christmas gift. 
 Pardon, for having increased the weight of 
 your poverty, and a gift to celebrate the ad 
 vent of a happier feeling between us." 
 
STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 339 
 
 Having said this, Stephen paused for a re 
 ply. Arthur Tyrrell mused for a moment; 
 then he cast his eyes upon his wife and his 
 children, and, in a low but firm voice, he said : 
 
 "I pardon and accept ! " 
 
 " That s right ! " cried Skarridge, his whole 
 being animated by a novel delight; "come 
 out to the cart, you and your son, and help 
 me bring in the things, while Mrs. T. and the 
 girl set the table as quickly as possible. The 
 cart was now brought up before the door, and 
 it was rapidly unloaded by willing hands. 
 From under a half dozen new blankets, which 
 served to keep the other contents from con 
 tact with the frosty air, Stephen first handed 
 out a fine linen table-cloth, and then a basket 
 containing a dinner-set of queensware (third 
 class seventy-eight pieces with soup-tureen 
 and pickle-dishes) and a half-dozen knives 
 and forks (rubber-handled and warranted to 
 stand hot water). When the cloth had been 
 spread and the plates and dishes arranged, 
 Arthur Tyrrell and his son, aided now by the 
 wife and daughter, brought in the remaining 
 contents of the cart and placed them on the 
 table, while, with a bundle of kindling which 
 he had brought, and the fallen limbs which 
 
34:0 STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S GHRISTMAS 
 
 lay all about the cottage, Skarridge made a 
 rousing fire on the hearth. 
 
 When the cart was empty and the table 
 fully spread, it presented indeed a noble 
 sight. At one end a great turkey; at the 
 other, a pair of geese; a duck upon one side 
 and a pigeon-pie upon the other ; cranberries, 
 potatoes, white and sweet ; onions, parsnips, 
 celery, bread, butter, beets (pickled and but 
 tered), pickled cucumbers, and walnuts, and 
 several kinds of sauces, made up the first 
 course ; while upon a side-table stood mince- 
 pies, apple-pies, purnpkin-pies, apples, nuts, 
 almonds, raisins, and a Luge pitcher of cider, 
 for dessert. 
 
 It was impossible for the Tyrrell family to 
 gaze unmoved upon this bounteously spread 
 table, and after silently clasping each other 
 for a moment, they sat down, with joyful, 
 thankful hearts, to a meal far better than 
 they had seen for years. At their earnest 
 solicitation Mr. Skarridge joined them. 
 
 When the meal was over, and there was 
 little left but empty dishes, they all arose, 
 and Skarridge prepared to take his leave. 
 
 " But before I go," said he, " I would leave 
 with you a further memento of my good feel- 
 
STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 341 
 
 ing and friendship. You know my Hillsdale 
 farm, in the next township ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ! " cried Arthur Tyrrell ; " is it 
 possible that you will give me a position 
 there?" 
 
 " I make you a present of the whole farm," 
 said Skarridge. " There are two hundred 
 and forty-two acres, sixty of which are in 
 timber ; large mansion-house, two good barns, 
 and cow and chicken houses ; a well, covered 
 in; an orchard of young fruit-trees, and a 
 stream of water flowing through the place. 
 The estate is well stocked with blooded cat 
 tle, horses, etc., and all necessary farming 
 utensils. Possession immediate." 
 
 Without waiting for the dumfounded Tyr 
 rell to speak, Skarridge turned quickly to his 
 wife, and said : " Here, madam, is my Christ 
 mas-gift to you. In this package you will find 
 shares of the New York Central and Hudson 
 (sixes, of eighty -three), of the Fort "Wayne 
 (guaranteed), and of the St. Paul s (preferred) ; 
 also bonds of the Delaware, Lackawanna, 
 and Western (second mortgage), and of the 
 Michigan Seven Per Cent. War Loan. In all 
 these amount to nine thousand and eighty-two 
 dollars ; but to preclude the necessity of sell- 
 
2 STEPHEN SKARRIDGE S CHRISTMAS 
 
 ing at a sacrifice, for immediate wants, I have 
 taken the liberty of placing in the package 
 one thousand dollars in greenbacks. And 
 now, dear friends, adieu ! " 
 
 But the grateful family could not allow this 
 noble man to leave them thus. Arthur Tyr 
 rell seized his hand and pressed it to his 
 bosom, and then, as if overcome with emo 
 tion, Mrs. Tyrrell fell upon her benefactor s 
 neck, while the children gratefully grasped 
 the skirts of his coat. With one arm around 
 the neck of the still young, once beautiful, 
 and now fast improving Mrs. Tyrrell, Stephen 
 Skarridge stood for a few minutes, haunted 
 by memories of the past. Then he spoke : 
 
 " Once," said he, his voice trembling the 
 while, " once I, too loved such a one. But 
 it is all over now and the grass waves over 
 her grave. Farewell, farewell dear friends ! " 
 and dashing away a tear, he tore himself 
 from the fervent family, and swiftly left the 
 house. 
 
 Springing into the cart, he drove rapidly 
 into the town a happy man ! 
 
 Did you ever before read a story like this ? 
 
MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 I WAS about twenty-five years old when I 
 began life as the owner of a vineyard in 
 western Virginia. I bought a large tract of 
 land, the greater part of which lay upon the 
 sloping side of one of the foot-hills of the 
 Blue Eidge, the exposure being that most 
 favorable to the growth of the vine. I am 
 an enthusiastic lover of the country and of 
 country life, and believed that I should de 
 rive more pleasure as well as profit from the 
 culture of my far-stretching vineyard than I 
 would from ordinary farm operations. 
 
 I built myself a good house of moderate 
 size upon a little plateau on the higher part 
 of my estate. Sitting in my porch, smoking 
 my pipe after the labors of the day, I could 
 look down over my vineyard into a beautiful 
 valley, with here and there a little curling 
 smoke arising from some of the few dwellings 
 which were scattered about among the groves 
 
346 MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 and spreading fields, and above this beauty 
 I could imagine all my hillside clothed in 
 green and purple. 
 
 My family consisted of myself alone. It 
 is true that I expected some day that there 
 would be others in my house besides myself, 
 but I was not ready for that yet. 
 
 During the summer I found it very pleas 
 ant to live by myself. It was a novelty, and 
 I could arrange and manage everything in my 
 own fashion, which was a pleasure I had not 
 enjoyed when I lived in my father s house ; 
 but when winter came I found it very lonely. 
 Even my servants lived in a cabin at some 
 little distance, and there were many dark and 
 stormy evenings when the company even of 
 a bore would have been welcome to me. 
 Sometimes I walked over to the town and 
 visited my friends there, but this was not 
 feasible on stormy nights, and the winter 
 seemed to me a very long one. 
 
 But spring came, out-door operations be 
 gan, and for a few weeks I felt again that I 
 was all-sufficient for my own pleasure and 
 comfort. Then came a change. One of those 
 seasons of bad and stormy weather which so 
 frequently follow an early spring settled down 
 
MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 347 
 
 upon my spirits and my hillside. It rained, 
 it was cold, fierce winds blew, and I became 
 more anxious for somebody to talk to than I 
 had been at any time during the winter. 
 
 One night, when a very bad storm was rag 
 ing, I went to bed early, and as I lay awake 
 I revolved in my mind a scheme of which 
 I had frequently thought before. I would 
 build a neat little house on my grounds, not 
 very far away from my house, but not too 
 near, and I would ask Jack Brandiger to 
 come there and live. Jack was a friend of 
 mine who was reading law in the town, and 
 it seemed to me that it would be much more 
 pleasant, and even more profitable, to read 
 law on a pretty hillside overlooking a charm 
 ing valley, with woods and mountains behind 
 and above him, where he could ramble to his 
 heart s content. 
 
 I had thought of asking Jack to come and 
 live with me, but this idea I soon dismissed. 
 I am a very particular person, and Jack was 
 not ; he left his pipes about in all sorts of 
 places sometimes when they were still 
 lighted. When he came to see me he was 
 quite as likely to put his hat over the ink 
 stand as to put it anywhere else. But if 
 
348 MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 Jack lived at a little distance, and we could 
 go backwards and forwards to see each other 
 whenever we pleased, that would be quite an 
 other thing. He could do as he pleased in 
 his own house, and I could do as I pleased 
 in mine, and we might have many pleasant 
 evenings together. This was a cheering idea, 
 and I was planning how we might arrange 
 with the negro woman who managed my 
 household affairs to attend also to those of 
 Jack when I fell asleep. 
 
 I did not sleep long before I was awakened 
 by the increased violence of the storm. My 
 house shook with the fury of the wind ; the 
 rain seemed to be pouring on its roof and 
 northern side as if there were a waterfall 
 above us ; and every now and then I could 
 hear a shower of hailstones rattling against 
 the shutters. My bedroom was one of the 
 rooms on the lower floor, and even there I 
 could hear the pounding of the deluge and 
 the hailstones upon the roof. 
 
 All this was very doleful, and had a ten 
 dency to depress the spirits of a man, awake 
 and alone in a good-sized house ; but I shook 
 off this depression. It was not agreeable to 
 be up here by myself in such a terrible storm, 
 
MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 349 
 
 but there was nothing to be afraid of, as my 
 house was new and very strongly built, be 
 ing constructed of logs, weather-boarded out 
 side and ceiled within. It would require a 
 hurricane to blow off the roof, and I believed 
 my shutters to be hail-proof ; so, as there was 
 no reason to stay awake, I turned over and 
 went to sleep. 
 
 I do not know how long it was before I 
 was awakened again, this time not by the 
 noise of the storm, but by a curious move 
 ment of my bedstead. I had once felt the 
 slight shock of an earthquake, and it seemed 
 to me that this must be something of the 
 kind ; certainly my bed moved under me. I 
 sat up ; the room was pitchy dark. In a mo 
 ment I felt another movement, but this time 
 it did not seem to me to resemble an earth 
 quake shock; such motion, I think, is gen 
 erally in horizontal directions, while that 
 which I felt was more like the movement of 
 a ship upon the water. The storm was at 
 its height, the wind raged and roared, and 
 the rain seemed to be pouring down as heav 
 ily as ever. 
 
 I was about to get up and light the lamp 
 for even the faintest candle flame would be 
 
350 MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 some sort of company at such a grewsome 
 moment, when my bedstead gave another 
 movement, more shiplike than before. It 
 actually lurched forward as if it were de 
 scending into the trough of the sea, but un 
 like a ship, it did not rise again, but remained 
 in such a slanting position that I began to 
 slide down toward the foot. I believe that if 
 it had not been a bedstead provided with a 
 foot-board, I should have slipped out upon 
 the floor. 
 
 I did not jump out of bed ; I did not do 
 anything. I was trying to think, to under 
 stand the situation, to find out whether I was 
 asleep or awake, when I became aware of 
 noises in the room and all over the house, 
 which even through the din of the storm 
 made themselves noticed by their peculiarity. 
 Tables, chairs, everything in the room, seemed 
 to be grating and grinding on the floor, and 
 in a moment there was a crash. I knew what 
 that was ; it was my lamp, which had slipped 
 off the table. Any doubt on that point would 
 have been dispelled by the smell of kerosene, 
 which filled the air of the room. 
 
 The motion of the bed, which I now be 
 lieve must have been the motion of the whole 
 
MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 351 
 
 house, still continued ; but the grating noises 
 in the room gradually ceased, from which I 
 inferred that the furniture had brought up 
 against the front wall of the room. 
 
 It now was impossible for me to get up 
 and strike a light, for to do so, with kerosene 
 oil all over the floor and its vapor diffused 
 through the room, would probably result in 
 setting the house on fire ; so I must stay in 
 darkness and wait. I do not think I was very 
 much frightened I was so astonished that 
 there was no room in my mind for fear. In 
 fact, all my mental energies were occupied in 
 trying to find out what had happened. It 
 required, however, only a few more minutes 
 of reflection and a few more minutes of the 
 grating, bumping, trembling of my house 
 to enable me to make up my mind what was 
 happening : my house was sliding downhill ! 
 
 The wind must have blown the building 
 from its foundations, and, upon the slippery 
 surface of the hillside, probably lashed into 
 liquid mud by the pouring rain, it was mak 
 ing its way down toward the valley! In a 
 flash my mind s eye ran over the whole sur 
 face of the country beneath me as far as I 
 knew it. I was almost positive that there 
 
352 MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 was no precipice, no terrible chasm into 
 which my house might fall. There was noth 
 ing but sloping hillside, and beneath that a 
 wide stretch of fields. 
 
 Now there was a new and sudden noise of 
 heavy objects falling upon the roof, and I 
 knew what that meant : my chimney had 
 been wrenched from its foundations, and the 
 upper part of it had now toppled over. I 
 could hear, through the storm, the bricks 
 banging and sliding upon the slanting roof. 
 Continuous sounds of cracking and snapping 
 came to me through the closed front windows, 
 and these were caused I supposed by the de 
 struction of the stakes of my vines, as the 
 heavy house moved over them. 
 
 Of course, when I thoroughly understood 
 the state of the case, my first impulse was to 
 spring out of bed, and, as quickly as possible, 
 to get out of that thumping and sliding house ; 
 but I restrained myself. The floor might be 
 covered with broken glass, I might not be able 
 to find my clothes in the darkness and in the 
 jumble of furniture at the end of the room, 
 and even if I could dress myself, it would be 
 folly to jump out in the midst of that raging 
 storm into a probable mass of wreckage 
 
MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 353 
 
 which I could not see ; it would be far better 
 to remain dry and warm under my roof. 
 There was no reason whatever to suppose 
 that the house would go to pieces, or that it 
 would turn over ; it must stop some time or 
 other ; and, until it did so, I would be safer 
 in my bed than anywhere else. Therefore in 
 my bed I stayed. 
 
 Sitting upright, with my feet pressed 
 against the foot-board, I listened and felt. 
 The noises of the storm, and the cracking and 
 the snapping and grinding before me and un 
 der me, still continued, although I sometimes 
 thought that the wind was moderating a lit 
 tle, and that the strange motion was becom 
 ing more regular. I believed the house was 
 moving faster than when it first began- its 
 strange career, but that it was sliding over a 
 smooth surface. Now I noticed a succession 
 of loud cracks and snaps at the front of the 
 house, and, from the character of the sounds, 
 I concluded that my little front porch, which 
 had been acting as a cutwater at the bow of 
 my shiplike house, had yielded at last to the 
 rough contact with the ground, and would 
 probably soon be torn away. This did not 
 disturb me, for the house must still be firm. 
 
354 MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 It was not long before I perceived that the 
 slanting of my bed was becoming less and 
 less, and also I was quite sure that the house 
 was moving more slowly. Then the crack 
 ings and snappings before my front wall 
 ceased altogether. The bed resumed its or 
 dinary horizontal position, and, although I 
 did not know at what moment the house had 
 ceased sliding and had come to a standstill, I 
 was sure that it had done so. It was now 
 resting upon a level surface. The room was 
 still perfectly dark, and the storm continued. 
 It was useless for me to get up until day 
 light came I could not see what had hap 
 pened so I lay back upon my pillow and 
 tried to imagine upon what level portion of 
 my farm I had stranded. While doing this 
 I fell asleep. 
 
 When I woke, a little light was stealing into 
 the room through the blinds of my shutters. 
 I quickly slipped out of bed, opened a window, 
 and looked out. Day was just breaking, the 
 rain and wind had ceased, and I could discern 
 objects ; but it seemed as if I needed some 
 light in my brain to enable me to compre 
 hend what I saw. My eyes fell upon nothing 
 familiar. 
 
MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 355 
 
 I did not stop to investigate, however, from 
 my window. I found my clothes huddled to 
 gether with the furniture at the front end of 
 the room, and as soon as I was dressed I went 
 into the hall and then to my front door. I 
 quickly jerked this open, and was about to 
 step outside when, suddenly, I stopped. I 
 was positive that my front porch had been 
 destroyed ; but there I saw a porch, a little 
 lower than mine and a great deal wider, and 
 on the other side of it, not more than eight 
 feet from me, was a window the window of 
 a house ; and on the other side of the window 
 was a face the face of a young girl ! As I 
 stood staring in blank amazement at the 
 house which presented itself at my front door, 
 the face at the window disappeared, and I 
 was left to contemplate the scene by myself. 
 I ran to my back door and threw it open. 
 There I saw, stretching up the fields and far 
 up the hillside, the wide path which my 
 house had made as it came down from its 
 elevated position to the valley beneath, where 
 it had ended its onward career by stopping 
 up against another house. As I looked from 
 the back porch I saw that the ground still 
 continued to slope, so that if my house had 
 
356 MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 not found in its path another building, it 
 would probably have proceeded somewhat 
 farther on its course. It was lighter, and I 
 saw bushes and fences and outbuildings I 
 was in a back yard. 
 
 Almost breathless with amazement and 
 consternation, I ran again to the front door. 
 When I reached it I found a young woman 
 standing on the porch of the house before 
 me. I was about to say something I know 
 not what when she put her finger on her lips 
 and stepped forward. 
 
 "Please don t speak loudly," she said. "I 
 am afraid it will frighten mother; she is 
 asleep yet. I suppose you and your house 
 have been sliding down hill ? " 
 
 " That is what has happened," said I ; " but 
 I cannot understand it ; it seems to me the 
 most amazing thing that ever took place on 
 the face of the earth." 
 
 "It is very queer," said she; "but hurri 
 canes do blow away houses, and that must 
 have been a hurricane we had last night, for 
 the wind was strong enough to loosen any 
 house. I have often wondered if that house 
 would ever slide downhill." 
 
 "My house?" 
 
MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 357 
 
 " Yes," she said. " Soon after it was built 
 I began to think what a nice clean sweep it 
 could make from the place where it seemed 
 to be stuck to the side of the mountain, right 
 down here into the valley." 
 
 I could not talk with a girl like this; at 
 least I could not meet her on her own con 
 versational grounds. I was so agitated my 
 self that it seemed unnatural that any one to 
 whom I should speak should not also be agi 
 tated. 
 
 " Who are you ? " I asked, rather brusque 
 ly ; " at least, to whom does this house be 
 long?" 
 
 " This is my mother s house," said she. 
 " My mother is Mrs. Carson. We happen 
 just now to be living here by ourselves, so I 
 cannot call 011 any man to help you do any 
 thing. My brother has always lived with us, 
 but last week he went away." 
 
 " You don t seem to be a bit astonished at 
 what has happened," said I. 
 
 She was rather a pretty girl ; of a cheerful 
 disposition, I should say, for several times 
 she had smiled as she spoke. 
 
 " Oh, I am astonished," she answered ; " or 
 at least I was, but I have had time enough 
 
358 MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 to get over some of it. It was at least an 
 hour ago when I was awakened by hearing 
 something crack in the yard. I went to a 
 window and looked out, and could just barely 
 see that something like a big building had 
 grown up during the night. Then I watched 
 it, and watched it, until I made out it was a 
 whole house ; and after that it was not long 
 before I guessed what had happened. It 
 seemed a simpler thing to me, you know, 
 than it did to you, because I had often thought 
 about it, and probably you never had." 
 
 "You are right there," said I, earnestly. 
 " It would have been impossible for me to 
 imagine such a thing." 
 
 " At first I thought there was nobody in the 
 house," said she ; " but when I heard some 
 one moving about, I came down to tell who 
 ever had arrived not to make a noise. I 
 see," she added, with another of her smiles, 
 "that you think I am a very strange person 
 not to be more flurried by what has hap 
 pened ; but really I cannot think of anything 
 else just now except what mother will say 
 and do when she comes down and finds you 
 and your house here at the back door. I am 
 very sure she will not like it." 
 
MY UNWILLING NKWIIBOH 350 
 
 "Like it!" I exclaimed. "Who on earth 
 could like it ? " 
 
 "Please speak more gently," she said. 
 " Mother is always a little irritable when her 
 night s rest has been broken, and I would not 
 like to have her wakened up suddenly now. 
 But really, Mr. Warren, I haven t the least 
 idea in the world how she will take this thing. 
 I must go in and be with her when she 
 wakes, so that I can explain just what has 
 happened." 
 
 "One moment," I said. "You know my 
 name." 
 
 " Of course I know your name," she 
 ansAvered. " Could that house be up there 
 on the hillside for more than a year without 
 my knowing who lived in it ? " With this, 
 she went indoors. 
 
 I could not help smiling when I thought 
 of the young lady regretting that there was 
 no man in the house who might help me do 
 something. What could anybody do in a 
 case like this? I turned and went into my 
 house. I entered the various rooms on the 
 lower floor, and saw no signs of any particu 
 lar damage except that everything movable in 
 each room was jumbled together against the 
 
360 MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 front wall. But when I looked out of the 
 back door I found that the porch there was 
 a good deal wrecked, which I had not noticed 
 before. 
 
 I went upstairs, and found everything 
 very much as it was below. Nothing seemed 
 to have been injured except the chimney and 
 the porches. I thanked my stars that I had 
 used hard wood instead of mortar for the 
 ceilings of my rooms. 
 
 I was about to go into my bedroom, when 
 I heard a woman scream, and of course I hur 
 ried to the front. There on the back porch of 
 her house stood Mrs. Carson. She was a 
 woman of middle age, and, as I glanced at 
 her, I saw where her daughter got her good 
 looks. But the placidity and cheerfulness of 
 the younger face were entirely wanting in the 
 mother. Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks were 
 red, her mouth was partly opened, and it 
 seemed to me that I could almost see that her 
 breath was hot. 
 
 " Is this your house ? " she cried, the mo 
 ment her eyes fell upon me ; " and what is it 
 doing here?" 
 
 I did not immediately answer. I looked 
 at the angry woman, and behind her I saw, 
 
UNWILLING NUIG1IBOR 361 
 
 through the open door, the daughter crossing 
 the hallway. It was plain that she had de 
 cided to let me have it out with her mother 
 without interference. As briefly and as 
 clearly as I could, I explained what had hap 
 pened. 
 
 " What is all that to me ? " she screamed. 
 " It doesn t matter to me how your house got 
 here. There have been storms ever since the 
 beginning of the world, and I never heard of 
 any of them taking a house into a person s 
 back yard. You ought not to have built your 
 house where any such thing could happen. 
 But all this is nothing to me. I don t under 
 stand, now, how your house did get here, and 
 I don t want to understand it. All I want is 
 for you to take it away." 
 
 " I will do that, madam, just as soon as I 
 can. You may be very sure I will do that. 
 But- 
 
 " Can you do it now ? " she asked. " Can 
 you do it to-day? I don t want a minute 
 lost. I have not been outside to see what 
 damage has been done, but the first thing to 
 do is to take your house away." 
 
 " I am going to the town now, madam, to 
 summon assistance." 
 
362 MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 Mrs. Carson made no answer, but she 
 turned and walked to the end of her porch. 
 There she suddenly gave a scream, which 
 quickly brought her daughter from the house. 
 "Kitty! Kitty!" cried her mother. "Do 
 you know what he has done ? He has gone 
 right over my round flower garden ; his house 
 is sitting on it this minute ! " 
 
 " But he could not help it, mother," said 
 Kitty. 
 
 "Help it!" exclaimed Mrs. Carson. "I 
 didn t expect him to help it ; what I want 
 Suddenly she stopped. Her eyes flashed 
 brighter, her mouth opened wider, and she 
 became more and more excited as she noticed 
 the absence of sheds, fences, or vegetable 
 beds, which had found themselves in the 
 course of my all-destroying dwelling. 
 
 It was now well on in the morning, and 
 some of the neighbors had become aware of 
 the strange disaster which had happened to 
 me, although if they had heard the news 
 from Mrs. Carson they might have supposed 
 that it was a disaster which had happened 
 only to her. As they gazed at the two houses 
 so closely jammed together, all of them won 
 dered, some of them even laughed, but not 
 
MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 363 
 
 one offered a suggestion which afforded sat 
 isfaction to Mrs. Carson or myself. The gen 
 eral opinion was that, now iny house was 
 there, it would have to stay there, for there 
 were not enough horses in the State to pull 
 it back up that mountain-side. To be sure, 
 it might possibly be drawn off sidewise ; but 
 whether it was moved one way or the other, 
 a lot of Mrs. Carson s trees would have to be 
 cut down to let it pass. 
 
 " Which shall never happen ! " cried that 
 good lady. " If nothing else can be done, it 
 must be taken apart and hauled off in carts ; 
 but, no matter how it is managed, it must be 
 moved, and that immediately." 
 
 Miss Carson now prevailed upon her mother 
 to go into the house, and I stayed and talked 
 to the men and a few women who had gath 
 ered outside. 
 
 When they had said all they had to say, 
 and seen all there was to see, these people 
 went home to their breakfasts. I entered 
 my house, but not by the front door, for to do 
 that I would have been obliged to trespass 
 upon Mrs. Carson s back porch. I got my 
 hat, and was about to start for the town, 
 when I heard my name called. Turning into 
 
MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 the hall, I saw Miss Carson, who was stand 
 ing at my front door. 
 
 " Mr. Warren," said she, " you haven t any 
 way of getting breakfast, have you ? " 
 
 " Oh, no," said I. " My servants are up 
 there in their cabin, and I suppose they are 
 too much scared to come down. But I am 
 going to town to see what can be done about 
 my house, and will get my breakfast there." 
 
 " It s a long way to go without anything to 
 eat," she said, " and we can give you some 
 breakfast. But I want to ask you something. 
 I am in a good deal of perplexity ; our two 
 servants are out at the front of the house, 
 but they positively refuse to come in. They 
 are afraid that your house may begin sliding 
 again and crush them all, so I shall have 
 to get breakfast. But what bothers me is 
 trying to find our well. I have been- out 
 side, and can see no signs of it." 
 
 " Where was your well ? " I gasped. 
 
 " It ought to be somewhere near the back 
 of your house," she said. "May I go 
 through your hall and look out ? " 
 
 " Of course you may," I cried, and I pre 
 ceded her to my back door. 
 
 " Now, it seems to me," she said, after sur- 
 
BEGAN TO SEARCH FOR THE WELL. 
 
MT UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 365 
 
 veying the scene of desolation immediately 
 before, and looking from side to side, toward 
 objects which had remained untouched, "that 
 your house has passed directly over our well, 
 and must have carried away the little shed 
 and the pump and everything above ground. 
 I should not wonder a bit," she continued 
 slowly, " if it is under your porch." 
 
 I jumped to the ground, for the steps were 
 shattered, and began to search for the well, 
 and it was not long before I discovered its 
 round dark opening, which was, as Miss Car 
 son had imagined, under one end of my 
 porch. 
 
 "What can we do?" she asked. " Wo 
 can t have breakfast or get along at all with 
 out water." It was a terribly depressing 
 thing to me to think that I, or rather my 
 house, had given these people so much 
 trouble; but I speedily assured Miss Car 
 son that if she could find a bucket and a rope, 
 which I could lower into the well, I would 
 provide her with water. 
 
 She went into her house to see what she 
 could find, and I tore away the broken planks 
 of the porch, so that I could get to the well ; 
 and then, when she came with a tin pail and 
 
306 MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 a clotlies-line, I went to work to haul up 
 water and carry it to her back door. 
 
 " I don t want mother to find out what has 
 happened to the well," she said ; " for she 
 has enough on her mind already." 
 
 Mrs. Carson was a woman with some good 
 points in her character. After a time she 
 called to me herself, and told me to come in 
 to breakfast ; but during the meal she talked 
 very earnestly to me about the amazing tres 
 pass I had committed and about the means 
 which should be taken to repair the damages 
 my house had done to her property. I was 
 as optimistic as I could be, and the young- 
 lady spoke very cheerfully and hopefully 
 about the affair, so that we were beginning 
 to get along somewhat pleasantly, when, 
 suddenly, Mrs. Carson sprang to her feet. 
 " Heavens and earth ! " she cried, " this house 
 is moving ! " 
 
 She was not mistaken. I had felt beneath 
 my feet a sudden sharp shock not severe, 
 but unmistakable. I remembered that both 
 houses stood upon slightly sloping ground ; 
 my blood turned cold, my heart stood still 
 even Miss Carson was pale ! 
 
 When we had rushed out-of-doors to see 
 
MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 367 
 
 what had happened, or what was going to 
 happen, I soon found that we had been need 
 lessly frightened. Some of the broken tim 
 bers on which my house had been partially 
 resting had given away, and the front part of 
 the building had slightly descended, jarring 
 as it did so the other house against which it 
 rested. I endeavored to prove to Mrs. Car 
 son that the result was encouraging rather 
 than otherwise, for my house was now more 
 firmly settled than it had been ; but she did 
 not value the opinion of a man who did not 
 know enough to put his house in a place 
 where it would be likely to stay, and she 
 could eat no more breakfast, and was even 
 afraid to stay under her own roof until ex 
 perienced mechanics had been summoned to 
 look into the state of affairs. 
 
 I hurried away to the town, and it was not 
 long before several carpenters and masons 
 were on the spot. After a thorough exami 
 nation, they assured Mrs. Carson that there 
 was no danger, that my house would do no 
 further damage to her premises ; but, to make 
 things certain, they would bring some heavy 
 beams and brace the front of my house 
 against her cellar wall. When that should 
 
368 MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 be done it would be impossible for it to move 
 any farther. 
 
 " But I don t want it braced ! " cried Mrs. 
 Carson. " I want it taken away ; I want it 
 out of my back } r ard ! " 
 
 The master carpenter was a man of imag 
 ination and expedients. " That is quite an 
 other thing, ma am," said he. " We ll fix 
 this gentleman s house so that you needn t 
 be afraid of it ; and then when the time 
 comes to move it, there s several ways of doing 
 that. "We might rig up a powerful windlass 
 at the top of the hill, and perhaps get a 
 steam-engine to turn it, and we could fasten 
 cables to the house and haul her back to 
 where she belongs." 
 
 " And can you take your oaths," cried Mrs. 
 Carson, " that those ropes won t break, and 
 when that house gets half way up the hill, it 
 won t come sliding down ten times faster 
 than it did, and crash into me and mine and 
 everything I own on earth? No, sir! I ll 
 have no house hauled up a hill back of 
 me ! " 
 
 " Of course," said the carpenter, " it would 
 be a great deal easier to move it on this 
 ground, which is almost level 
 
MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 369 
 
 "And cut down my trees to do it! No, 
 sir!" 
 
 " "Well, then," said lie, " there is no way to 
 do but to take it apart and haul it off." 
 
 " Which would make an awful time at the 
 back of my house while you were doing it ! " 
 exclaimed Mrs. Carson. 
 
 I now put in a word. " There s only one 
 thing to do that I can see ! " I exclaimed. " I 
 will sell it to a match factory. It is almost 
 all wood, and it can be cut up in sections 
 about two inches thick, and then split into 
 matches." 
 
 Kitty smiled. " I should like to see them," 
 she said, " taking away the little sticks in 
 wheelbarrows ! " 
 
 " There is no need of trifling on the sub 
 ject," said Mrs. Carson. " I have had a great 
 deal to bear, and I must bear it no longer 
 than is necessary. I have just found out that 
 in order to get water out of my own well, I 
 must go to the back porch of a stranger. 
 Such things cannot be endured. If my son 
 George were here, he would tell me w r hat I 
 ought to do. I shall write to him, and see 
 what he advises. I do not mind waiting a 
 little bit, now thnt I know that you can fix 
 
370 MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 Mr. Warren s Louse so that it won t move 
 any farther." 
 
 Tims the matter was left. My house was 
 braced that afternoon, and toward evening 
 I started to go to a hotel in the town to 
 spend the night. 
 
 "No, sir !" said Mrs. Carson. "Do you 
 suppose that I am going to stay here all 
 night with a great empty house jammed up 
 against me, and everybody knowing that it 
 is empty ? It will be the same as having 
 thieves in my own house to have them in 
 yours. You have come down here in your 
 property, and you can stay in it and lake 
 care of it ! " 
 
 " I don t object to that in the least," I said. 
 " My two women are here, and I can tell them 
 to attend to my meals. I haven t any chim 
 ney, but I suppose they can make a fire some 
 way or other." 
 
 "No, sir ! " said Mrs. Carson. " I am not 
 going to have any strange servants on my 
 place. I have just been able to prevail upon 
 my own women to go into the house, and I 
 don t want any more trouble ; I have had 
 enough already ! " 
 
 " But, my dear madam," said I, " you don t 
 
MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 371 
 
 want mo to go to the town, and you won t al 
 low me to have any cooking done here ; what 
 am I to do ? " 
 
 " Well," she said, " you can eat with us. It 
 may be two or three days before I can hear 
 from my son George, and in the meantime 
 you can lodge in your own house and I will 
 take you to board. That is the best way I 
 can see of managing the thing ; but I am very 
 sure I am not going to be left here alone in 
 the dreadful predicament in which you have 
 put me." 
 
 We had scarcely finished supper, when 
 Jack Brandiger came to see me. He laughed 
 a good deal about my sudden change of base, 
 but thought, on the whole, my house had 
 made a very successful move ; it must be more 
 pleasant in the valley than up on that windy 
 hill. Jack was very much interested in every 
 thing, and when Mrs. Carson and her daugh 
 ter appeared, as we were walking about 
 viewing the scene, I felt myself obliged to 
 introduce him. 
 
 " I like those ladies," said he to me after 
 ward. " I think you have chosen very agree 
 able neighbors." 
 
 " How do you know you like them ? " said 
 
372 M Y UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 I. "You had scarcely anything to say to 
 Mrs. Carson." 
 
 " No, to be sure," said he ; " but I expect 
 I should like her. By the way, do you know 
 how you used to talk to me about coming and 
 living somewhere near you ? How would you 
 like me to take one of your rooms now ? I 
 might cheer you up." 
 
 "No," said I, firmly. "That cannot be 
 done. As things are now, I have as much as 
 I can do to get along here by myself." 
 
 Mrs. Carson did not hear from her son 
 for nearly a week, and then he wrote that he 
 found it almost impossible to give her any 
 advice. He thought it was a very queer state 
 of affairs ; he had never heard of any thing- 
 like it ; but he would try and arrange busi 
 ness so that he could come home in a week 
 or two and look into matters. 
 
 As I was thus compelled to force myself 
 upon the close neighborhood of Mrs. Carson 
 and her daughter, I endeavored to make 
 things as pleasant as possible. I brought 
 some of my men down out of the vineyard 
 and set them to repairing fences, putting the 
 garden in order, and doing all that I could 
 to remedy the doleful condition of things 
 
MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 373 
 
 which I had unwillingly brought into the 
 back yard of this quiet family. I rigged up a 
 pump on my back porch by which the water 
 of the well could be conveniently obtained, 
 and in every way endeavored to repair dam 
 ages. 
 
 But Mrs. Carson never ceased to talk about 
 the unparalleled disaster which had come 
 upon her, and she must have had a great 
 deal of correspondence with her son George, 
 because she gave me frequent messages from 
 him. He could not come on to look into the 
 state of affairs, but he seemed to be giving it 
 a great deal of thought and attention. 
 
 Spring weather had come again, and it was 
 very pleasant to help the Carson ladies get 
 their flower-garden in order at least as 
 much as was left of it, for my house was 
 resting upon some of the most important 
 beds. As I was obliged to give up all pres 
 ent idea of doing anything in the way of get 
 ting my residence out of a place where it had 
 no business to be, because Mrs. Carson would 
 not consent to any plan which had been sug 
 gested, I felt that I was offering some little 
 compensation in beautifying what seemed to 
 be, at that time, my own grounds. 
 
374 MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 My labors in regard to vines, bushes, and 
 all that sort of thing, were generally carried 
 on under direction of Mrs. Carson or her 
 daughter, and as the elderly lady was a very 
 busy housewife, the horticultural work was 
 generally left to Miss Kitty and me. 
 
 I liked Miss Kitty ; she was a cheerful, 
 whole-souled person, and I sometimes thought 
 that she was not so unwilling to have me for 
 a neighbor as the rest of the family seemed 
 to be; for if I were to judge the disposition 
 of her brother George from what her mother 
 told me about his letters, both he and Mrs. 
 Carson must be making a great many plans 
 to get me off the premises. 
 
 Nearly a month had now passed since my 
 house and I made that remarkable morning 
 call upon Mrs. Carson. I was becoming ac 
 customed to my present mode of living, and, 
 so far as I was concerned, it satisfied me very 
 well ; I certainly lived a great deal better 
 than when I was depending upon my old 
 negro cook. Miss Kitty seemed to be satis 
 fied with things as they were, and so, in 
 some respects, did her mother ; but the lat 
 ter never ceased to give me extracts from 
 some of her son George s letters, and this was 
 
MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 375 
 
 always annoying and worrying to me. Evi 
 dently lie was not pleased with me as such a 
 close neighbor to his mother ; and it was as 
 tonishing how many expedients he proposed 
 in order to rid her of my undesirable prox 
 imity. 
 
 " My son George," said Mrs. Carson, one 
 morning, "has been writing to me about 
 jackscrews ; he says that the greatest im 
 provements have been made in jackscrews." 
 
 "What do you do with them, mother?" 
 asked Miss Kitty. 
 
 " You lift houses with them," said she. 
 " He says that in large cities they lift whole 
 blocks of houses with them and build stories 
 underneath. He thinks that we can get rid 
 of our trouble here if we use jackscrews." 
 
 " But how does he propose to use them ? " 
 I asked. 
 
 " Oh, he has a good many plans," answered 
 Mrs. Carson. " He said that he should not 
 wonder if jackscrews could be made large 
 enough to lift your house entirely over mine 
 and set it out in the road, where it could be 
 carried away without interfering with any 
 thing, except, of course, vehicles which might 
 be coming along. But he has another plan ; 
 
376 MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 that is, to lift my house up and carry it out 
 into the field on the other side of the road, 
 and then your house might be carried along- 
 right over the cellar until it got to the road. 
 In that way, he says, the bushes and trees 
 would not have to be interfered with." 
 
 " I think brother George is cracked ! " said 
 Kitty. 
 
 All this sort of thing worried me very much. 
 My mind was eminently disposed toward 
 peace and tranquillity, but who could be 
 peaceful and tranquil with a prospective 
 jackscrew under the very base of his comfort 
 and happiness ? In fact, my house had never 
 been such a happy home as it was at that 
 time; the fact of its unwarranted position 
 upon other people s grounds had ceased to 
 trouble me. 
 
 But the coming son George, with his jack- 
 screws, did trouble me very much, and that 
 afternoon I deliberately went into Mrs. Car 
 son s house to look for Kitty. I knew her 
 mother was not at home, for I had seen her 
 go out. When Kitty appeared I asked her 
 to come out on her back porch. " Have yon 
 thought of any new plan of moving it ? " she 
 said, with a smile, as we sat down. 
 
 4 \ 
 
M Y UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 377 
 
 " No," said I, earnestly ; " I have not, and 
 I don t want to think of any plan of moving 
 it. I am tired of seeing it here, I am tired 
 of thinking about moving it away, and I am 
 tired of hearing people talk about moving it. 
 I have not any right to be here, and I am 
 never allowed to forget it. What I want to 
 do is to go entirely away, and leave every 
 thing behind me except one thing." 
 
 " And what is that ? " asked Kitty. 
 
 " You," I answered. 
 
 She turned a little pale and did not reply. 
 
 "You understand me, Kitty,"Isaid. "There 
 is nothing in the world that I care for but 
 you. What have you to say to me ? " 
 
 Then came back to her her little smile. " I 
 think it would be very foolish for us to go 
 away," she said. 
 
 It was about a quarter of an hour after this 
 when Kitty proposed that we should go out 
 to the front of the house. It would look 
 queer if any of the servants should come by 
 and see us sitting together like that. I had 
 forgotten that there were other people in the 
 world ; but I went with her. 
 
 We were standing on the front porch close 
 to each other, and I think we were holding 
 
378 MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 eacli other s hands, when Mrs. Carson came 
 back. As she approached she looked at us 
 inquiringly, plainly wishing to know why we 
 were standing side by side before her door 
 as if we had some special object in so doing. 
 
 " Well? " said she, as she came up the 
 steps. Of course it was right that I should 
 speak, and, in as few words as possible, I 
 told her what Kitty and I had been saying to 
 each other. I never saw Kitty s mother look 
 so cheerful and so handsome as when she 
 came forward and kissed her daughter and 
 shook hands with me. She seemed so per 
 fectly satisfied that it amazed me. After a 
 little Kitty left us, and then Mrs. Carson 
 asked me to sit by her on a rustic bench. 
 
 " Now," said she, " this will straighten out 
 things in the very best way. When you are 
 married, you and Kitty can live in the back 
 building for, of course, your house will now 
 be the same thing as a back building and 
 you can have the second floor. We won t 
 have any separate tables, because it will be a 
 great deal nicer for you and Kitty to live with 
 me, and it will simply be your paying board 
 for two persons instead of one ; and you know 
 you can manage your vineyard just as well 
 
MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 379 
 
 from the bottom of the hill as from the top. 
 The lower rooms of what used to be your house 
 can be made very pleasant and comfortable 
 for all of us. I have been thinking about the 
 room on the right that you had planned for 
 a parlor, and it will make a lovely sitting-room 
 for us, which is a thing we have never had, 
 and the room on the other side is just what 
 will suit beautifully for a guest-chamber. The 
 two houses together, with the roof of my back 
 porch properly joined to the front of your 
 house, will make a beautiful and spacious 
 dwelling. It was fortunate, too, that you 
 painted your house a light yellow ; I have 
 often looked at the two together, and thought 
 what a good thing it was that one was not one 
 color and the other another. And as to the 
 pump, it will be very easy now to put a pipe 
 from what used to be your back porch to our 
 kitchen, so that we can get water without be 
 ing obliged to carry it. Between us we can 
 make all sorts of improvements, and some 
 time I will tell you of a good many that I 
 have thought of. 
 
 " What used to be your house," she con 
 tinued, " can be jackscrewed up a little bit 
 and a good foundation put under it ; I have 
 
380 MY UNWILLING NEIGHBOR 
 
 inquired about that. Of course it would not 
 have been proper to let you know that I was 
 satisfied with the state of things, but I was 
 satisfied, and there is no use of denying it. 
 As soon as I got over my first scare, after that 
 house came down the hill, and had seen how 
 everything might be arranged to suit all 
 parties, I said to myself : What the Lord has 
 joined together, let not man put asunder, and 
 so, according to my belief, the strongest kind 
 of jackscrews could not put these two houses 
 asunder, any more than they could put you 
 and Kitty asunder, now that you have agreed 
 to take each other for each other s own." 
 
 Jack Brandiger came to call that evening, 
 and when he had heard what had happened 
 he whistled a good deal. " You are a funny 
 kind of a fellow," said he. " You go courting 
 like a snail, with your house on your back ! " 
 
 I think my friend was a little discomfited. 
 " Don t be discouraged, Jack," said I. " You 
 will get a good wife some of these days ; that 
 is, if you don t try to slide uphill to find her ! " 
 

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