THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
MY FIRST VOYAGE 
 
 BY 
 
 MAURICE THOMPSON 
 
 AND OTHER STORIES BY NOTED AUTHORS 
 
 itjj picture* 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 D LOTHROP COMPANY 
 
 WASHINGTON STREET OPPOSITE BROM FIELD 
 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1890 
 
 BY 
 D LOTHROP COMPANY. 
 
3*3 
 
 MY FIRST VOYAGE. 
 
 I. 
 
 WHEN I was a boy my father had a govern 
 ment contract that took him to the little 
 town of Bay St. Louis, which is built on the high 
 western shore of a beautiful bay of the same name, 
 on the gulf coast of Mississippi. I was the only 
 child my father had and, my mother being dead, 
 I was petted and spoiled a good deal by well- 
 meaning people wherever I went. At Bay St. 
 Louis, where we were living during the two years 
 that my father s contract lasted, I was allowed to 
 run free for a great part of the time. I fished a 
 good deal, wandered in the grand forests of pine, 
 oak and magnolia that stretched indefinitely away 
 east of the town, and, indeed, did just as I pleased. 
 My father was a very busy, industrious man, grimly 
 intent upon retrieving a lost fortune, and I think 
 
 7 
 
8 MY FIRST VOYAGE. 
 
 he never dreamed that I was possessed of any 
 thing like an imagination. At all events the only 
 books he left in my way were tables of logarithms, 
 .sines and tangents, treatises upon earthwork, tim 
 ber structures, jetties, breakwaters and the like, 
 together with two or three volumes of chemistry 
 and geology. So you may imagine with what 
 ravenous avidity I attacked Robinson Crusoe when 
 I got the chance. A traveller left the book, a 
 well-worn paper-covered copy, at our boarding- 
 house and thus it came to my hands. I devoured 
 it, as a hungry animal devours food, in an ecstasy 
 of delight. 
 
 No doubt Robinson Crusoe is a very charming 
 book and quite harmless in a general way, but it 
 caused me the most serious trouble I have ever 
 experienced, so far as personal suffering is con 
 cerned. 
 
 I read and re-read the story, until its spirit got 
 full possession of me, and then I began to long 
 for an adventure of my own. Day after day, when 
 my father was absent in pursuit of his undertaking, 
 I sat upon the breezy bluff and gazed out on the 
 
MY FIRST VOYAGE. 9 
 
 blue water of the beautiful bay, dreaming of some 
 day going away in a ship and getting wrecked on 
 a tropical island where I could live an ideal Crusoe 
 life. 
 
 An old negro man, with whom I became well ac 
 quainted, added a great deal to my foolish desire 
 by telling me romantic stories of pirates and smug 
 glers whose ships, he said, were all the time hov 
 ering just beyond some little marsh islands, barely 
 visible on the southern horizon when the weather 
 was very favorable. 
 
 I grew so interested at length that I thought of 
 nothing else but the imaginary delights of a lonely 
 life on some far-away, undiscovered shore. I 
 dreamed of it throughout my sleep and pondered 
 over it every hour of the day. 
 
 My father was a practical, rather austere man 
 and I did not mention my fanciful ambition to 
 him; but to Uncle Luben, the old negro, I told 
 everything. Of course the kind-hearted, ready- 
 tongued African, thinking I was merely giving vent 
 to a boyish imagination, entered fully into the spirit 
 of all my plans. 
 
10 MY FIRST VOYAGE. 
 
 " F I s you I d des rig up one o dem leetle 
 boats down yer at de landin , an I des sail erway 
 some o dese yer moon-shiny nights, dat w at I d 
 do," he said in his wise, solemn way. " Kase 
 dey s mo oranges, an figs, an grapes, an water- 
 mellions, an bananers on dem fur-off islands an 
 eber you see in all yer bo n days, chile. Dey s 
 cantaloups bigger n a flou bar l an cocoanuts at 
 you couldn t hardly tote, an den de honey, w y 
 de honey it des grow on de bushes down da ." 
 
 I don t know that I believed all that Uncle 
 Luben told me, but there was the blue bay spread 
 ing away to the far horizon where La Fitte the 
 pirate used to sail, and just off yonder in the south 
 east, was the Caribbean Sea, where the Bucca 
 neers so long found a safe home. I felt the fasci 
 nation of the balmy salt breezes and the spell of 
 the semi-tropics was upon me. 
 
 "Uncle Luben," I said to the old negro one 
 day, "I have got my plans all made. I m going 
 on a voyage to-night. You ll never see me again." 
 
 "Dat s it, child, dat s des it!" he responded, 
 shaking his white woolly head approvingly. Now 
 
MY FIRST VOYAGE. II 
 
 you s a talkin sense. Go right long an see de big 
 ocean an de water-mellion islands an de cocoanut 
 trees an all. Lawsy me ef I s young like you I d 
 des turn in an go clean all eround this worl , I 
 tell you!" 
 
 Well, that night, sure enough, I departed on my 
 voyage of adventure. You need not fear that I 
 am going to tell you a dream. It is a genuine 
 experience and it has a good enough lesson in it, 
 I think. However, I must hasten to add that I 
 don t believe boys nowadays ought to need any 
 lesson of the sort. 
 
 It was a splendidly beautiful moonlight night in 
 May, warm, balmy, exhilarating. A gentle breeze 
 was blowing seaward. The little town of Bay St. 
 Louis was still and peaceful as it slept along the 
 high tree-shaded bluff a town in fact one house 
 deep and nine miles long. 
 
 Near midnight I crept out of my bedroom win 
 dow with a little bundle under my arm. My father 
 was soundly sleeping. The whole world seemed 
 to be wrapped in a deep, solemn dream. 
 
 I felt that I was not doing quite right ; in fact I 
 
12 MY FIRST VOYAGE. 
 
 knew I was doing wrong, but the sea was calling 
 me, the great, mysterious, shining sea, and I could 
 not resist. 
 
 Down to the landing I went with my bundle 
 under my arm and waded out to my father s little 
 boat, which lay anchored in the shallow water. I 
 knew a little about sailing, just enough to render 
 me confident, but not enough to give me command 
 of the boat in any, save the most favorable weather. 
 My father would not have permitted me to go out 
 alone under any circumstances. 
 
 Hastily but silently I pulled up the little anchor 
 and set the sail as best I could. The boat was a 
 mere skiff, but staunch and good, rigged with a 
 shoulder-of-mutton sail, a centre-board and a rud 
 der. Fortunately the wind was not strong, and it 
 blew steadily southward, so that I got the little 
 craft before it and sailed away without much 
 trouble. Little I dreamed of the danger I was 
 about to encounter as I looked back and saw the 
 shining white line of the town slowly receding as 
 the wind bore me along. I shall never forget how 
 won drously blue the sky was, and how the stars, 
 
MY FIRST VOYAGE. 13 
 
 despite the great brilliancy of the moon, flared 
 and flashed, like the flames of candles shaking in a 
 wind. A weatherwise person would have known 
 that a storm was gathering not far off, for there 
 was a peculiar dampness and freshness in the air, 
 and an ominous film hung about the horizon. But 
 I sailed on, all unconscious of the indications and 
 wrapped in the fascination of my escapade. 
 
 A flock of pelicans, their wings shining in the 
 moonlight, flew ahead of me for a while, keeping 
 just above the little waves. They appeared to be 
 leading me on toward a low fringe-like marsh- 
 island just beginning to be visible in the far 
 south. 
 
 Now the breeze stiffened a little, giving my boat 
 an impulse which caused white whisps of spray to 
 flash about the gunwales. A thrill seemed to run 
 over the wide waste of water and little white-capped 
 waves leaped and murmured all around me. A 
 sudden sense of loneliness filled my mind and in 
 voluntarily I glanced back. A strange mist had 
 enveloped the shore. A broad booming sound 
 arose, as if from the depth of the distant parts of 
 
14 MY FIRST VOYAGE. 
 
 the sea. I felt my heart sink. Strangely enough, 
 I thought of the soft, sweet bed in the cosey room 
 and of my father sleeping so soundly after his 
 day s work. Just then a big bird, flying wildly 
 before the wind, passed overhead with a hoarse 
 scream ; then a cloud covered the moon. 
 
 I was thoroughly frightened and made a great 
 effort to turn the boat about and go back ; but the 
 breeze was now lifting the water into foaming bil 
 lows and I saw how powerless I was. 
 
 When one s conscience is not just right one is 
 a coward. I lost my head and went into a state 
 of hysterical ecstasy, throwing my arms about and 
 screaming as loudly as I could. It was as if the 
 wind grew hysterical too, for now it howled and 
 raved and leaped upon my boat, whirling it about 
 and driving it before it like a straw or a dry leaf. 
 I had to let go the tiller and cling to the gunwales, 
 as the little vessel leaped and tumbled with the 
 ever increasing waves. My hat blew off and went 
 whirling away into the boiling, foaming water. 
 Then the storm struck in earnest and I felt the 
 sea spring up, like a giant, to show its real strength. 
 
MY FIRST VOYAGE. 15 
 
 Something happened, I do not know what, for I 
 was buried in the water. 
 
 II. 
 
 I have said that this is no dream-story, but I 
 really felt as one feels who opens his eyes after 
 the most horrible visions of sleep. I looked about, 
 as best I could, and saw nothing but tall marsh 
 grass and weeds. I was lying almost face-down 
 ward in a slimy place where the mud looked black 
 and nasty. My head roared, my limbs ached, my 
 hair and mouth were full of slime ; and at first I 
 could not imagine what this all meant. After many 
 trials I rolled myself over and managed to get up 
 on one elbow and gaze all around. Then I looked 
 at myself. My clothes were soaked with water 
 and covered with mud. Was this a dream ? At 
 first I was inclined to think it was, but very soon 
 I knew it was not, for I began to recollect the cir 
 cumstances and incidents of my voyage. Slowly 
 it dawned upon me that I was indeed a lonely 
 
1 8 MY FIRST VOYAGE. 
 
 shipwrecked boy on a desolate marsh. Painfully 
 I dragged myself into a sitting posture only to find 
 that my head was so dizzy and sore that I could 
 scarcely hold it up. 
 
 The sun was about an hour high in what I 
 thought was the east, and I judged that it was 
 early morning, which proved to be so. I dragged 
 myself out of the muddy place and lay down on 
 the rushes and weeds. The sky was clear now, 
 the wind, very gently blowing out of the southeast, 
 was as sweet as May and the sea could make it, 
 and the sunshine was very soothing to my chilled 
 and bruised body and limbs. I lay there on my 
 back and. gazed up into the blue heaven thinking 
 over my predicament with a forlorn consciousness 
 of how wicked I had been. 
 
 At length I thought of trying to look about for 
 my boat. Possibly it had been cast up on the 
 shore somewhere ; and if I could find it I might 
 make my way back to my home. I was on the 
 point of making an effort to get upon my feet when 
 I heard a voice, heavy and peremptory in its tone, 
 say: 
 
MY FIRST VOYAGE. 19 
 
 " Set the box down here, Jim, it will be safe 
 enough for the present, and we will go look for 
 the most favorable point on this island. I think 
 it ll suit our purpose." 
 
 " All right, sir," said another voice. 
 
 " Well, come on now," added the first, " we ve 
 no time to lose." 
 
 The first thought that sprang into my mind was 
 that these men were smugglers. I lifted my head 
 cautiously and peeped over the grass. They had 
 deposited a small red box on the ground and were 
 now walking away across the island. I saw that 
 the box had bright bands of brass around it. 
 Uncle Luben had told me a great deal about 
 strong boxes of gold and other treasure often 
 buried by these lawless men. . 
 
 I was very much frightened now when I thought 
 of the probability that these men would discover 
 me, and kill me, perhaps, for fear that I might 
 disclose some of their secrets. 
 
 When the sound of their voices had died away 
 in the distance as they walked off, I peeped over 
 the top of the grass again and took a good view 
 
20 MY FIRST VOYAGE. 
 
 of the surroundings. At a little distance from the 
 box a boat, about the size of the one I had got 
 wrecked in, but much more beautiful, was moored 
 to the shore, its sail flapping lazily. 
 
 As I sat there looking first at the box and then 
 at the boat and dreading the return of the men, 
 a great desire to get away from the island took 
 possession of me, and then, with a jump of my 
 heart, I thought of capturing the smugglers boat 
 and escaping in it. Why not ? There it lay ready 
 for me ; and the owners were out of sight. It did 
 not take me long to decide. Every moment was 
 precious. 
 
 I crawled down to the edge of the water, fear 
 ing that if I stood up the men would see me, and 
 unmoored the boat. Then I chanced to have a 
 brilliant conceit. Why not take the box ? Oh, if 
 I could go home with a captured boat and a price 
 less treasure-box ! 
 
 I re-tied the boat and crawled back to the box 
 and dragged it down to the water. It was very 
 heavy for me to handle, but I finally heaved it 
 aboard and then I managed to get the little craft 
 
MY FIRST VOYAGE. 21 
 
 off before the wind. This is all very easy to tell 
 and may appear tame and simple, but to me at the 
 time it was terribly exciting. Every moment I 
 expected the men to return and wreak their re 
 venge upon me for my rash undertaking. A min 
 ute was like an hour. Then, too, I was so weak 
 and sore that every move I made was torture. 
 
 When the box was safe in the bottom of the 
 boat, and I was sitting, tiller in hand, with the sail 
 bulging gently and the little vessel beginning to 
 glide away from the low, marshy shore, I felt so 
 glad and thankful that the pain and hunger were 
 quite forgotten. Far away northward I could see 
 the dim line which marked the bluffs of Bay St. 
 Louis. The wind would blow me straight to my 
 home! I turned and looked back, and as I 
 did so a gruff voice came bellowing over the 
 water : 
 
 " Hello, there ! bring back that boat, you scamp 
 you ! " 
 
 The two men were running along the shore and 
 making all sorts of frantic gestures. I was scared 
 almost out of my wits, but I held a steady hand 
 
22 MY FIRST VOYAGE; 
 
 on the tiller, so that the boat kept on before the 
 breeze. 
 
 Never, I am sure, did men cut such wild capers 
 and yell and shriek as they did. It did them no 
 good, however, for I sailed right on my course. 
 I felt free and victorious. No boy of my age had 
 ever performed so daring a thing as to capture the 
 boat and treasure-box of pirates or smugglers. 
 
 The thought gave me renewed strength and 
 firmness. They screamed and shouted and called 
 me names and shook their fists at me, but on I 
 went. 
 
 III. 
 
 Meantime, at Bay St. Louis my father and his 
 friends had searched the town and all the country 
 round for me, and great excitement prevailed. 
 No one, not even Uncle Luben, thought of my 
 attempting a voyage alone, for the old negro had 
 taken all my talk as mere boyish prattle, and my 
 father had never heard a word of it. True, the 
 boat was missed, but it was supposed that the 
 
MY FIRST VOYAGE. 23 
 
 storm had loosed it from its anchorage and blown 
 it away to sea. Several other small craft had 
 been lost in the same way, on account of the sud 
 denness of the gale. 
 
 It was about the middle of the afternoon when 
 I proudly steered my captured vessel and cargo 
 up to the landing under the tree-fringed bluff of 
 Bay St. Louis. Some one recognized me and 
 gave the word to others and soon a crowd gathered 
 to see me. My father heard the outcry, and I saw 
 him hurrying towards me, his face pale and excited. 
 
 Everybody was so glad to see me alive that 
 great shouts went up from the men while some of 
 the women cried. As soon as I went ashore I 
 was surrounded and a hundred questions were 
 asked me at once. No wonder my father looked 
 at me so strangely, for I was muddy from head to 
 foot, haggard, wild-eyed, my hair all matted and 
 my clothes torn into tatters. I tried to tell my 
 story, but somehow I could not. I pointed to 
 the boat and the box. 
 
 11 Why, that s the surveyor s boat ! " cried some 
 one, " how d the boy get that ? " 
 
24 MY FIRST VOYAGE. 
 
 "It is the surveyor s boat," repeated another, 
 " where s the surveyor? " 
 
 I felt weak and faint. My father had to carry 
 me to the house, and for four long, weary weeks 
 I lay on my bed sick with fever. During all that 
 time I was wholly unconscious of the great joke 
 the towns-people had to tease the surveyor with. 
 As you have suspected, no doubt, it was a surveyor 
 and his assistant whom I had taken for pirates. 
 The brass-bound box contained a transit, which 
 is a sort of compass with a telescope attached. 
 Some persons who thought of locating a building 
 on the island had sent the surveyor down there 
 to plat it, and I had run away with his boat 
 and instrument, leaving him and his assistant 
 to take care of themselves as best they could ! 
 
 But I paid dearly for that escapade. I suffered 
 all the pangs of a rheumatic fever, and then, when 
 I began to get well, I felt so much remorse for 
 what I had done that it was long before I could 
 look my father in the face and promise him, of 
 my own accord, never to do such a thing again. 
 
HOW NED SCALED MT. WASH 
 INGTON. 
 
 WELL, sir, I m sorry, but it can t be helped. 
 You are a little ahead of the season." 
 
 " Well but I say, isn t there a way of man 
 aging it by paying double fare, or something of 
 that sort ? " 
 
 " No, sir," said the clerk ; " it can t be done. 
 The season doesn t begin until the middle of June, 
 and it wouldn t pay the company to start running 
 cars up the mountain until there are people to go. 
 Come back in about four weeks and you ll find us 
 running up, but just now you will have to content 
 yourself with a sight of the mountains." 
 
 Ned Stanley turned from the clerk with a very 
 
 disappointed face. Here he was at the White 
 
 Mountains at the far-famed Fabyan House, 
 
 rested by a night s sleep and ready for the ascent 
 
 2 5 
 
26 HOW NED SCALED MT. WASHINGTON. 
 
 of Mt. Washington. He had come all the way 
 from Missouri had been studying up the trip, 
 and particularly the ascent for months. He had 
 seen stereoscopic views of the elevated railway 
 and had imagined himself in sundry dangerous 
 and exciting situations. He had, in fancy, retailed 
 the adventure to his less fortunate companions at 
 home, unconsciously making himself, and not the 
 railway, the central figure. He had been asked 
 by various imaginary persons : 
 
 "Did you go up Mt. Washington?" and had 
 answered, " Of course ; the White Mountains with 
 out Mt. Washington would be like the play of 
 Hamlet with Hamlet left out." (He had heard 
 that from a chance acquaintance on the train and 
 it struck him as a particularly neat and original 
 way of putting it.) 
 
 Now to get here and be told that the cars 
 wouldn t run for four weeks was a little too much ! 
 If anybody should ask about Mt. Washington he 
 could only say, " The cars were not running and 
 I couldn t go upj" and then perhaps the other fel 
 low might " quote Hamlet." Then there was Tom 
 
HOW NED SCALED MT. WASHINGTON. 27 
 
 Winston. He gave a pebble a vicious kick. Tom 
 had ventured some advice because he had once been 
 to Chicago and felt his superiority as a traveller, and 
 Ned had said not very graciously, " Now, don t 
 you fret, Tom, about me. I ve studied this thing 
 up and know what I m about if I haven t been to 
 Chicago." Of course Tom would ask about the 
 ascent of Mt. Washington and tell the other fel 
 lows, and oh, yes, Hamlet was left out ! 
 
 The mountains were there in their majesty, tis 
 true, and Ned had said to himself that morning as 
 he saw the sun rise over Mt. Washington, " This 
 pays a fellow for the ride " but the glory of it 
 was gone now. 
 
 He wandered down to the Mt. Pleasant House, 
 back again, and up to the White Mouutain House ; 
 " anything," he said, " to kill time." 
 
 Mt. Deception, back of the hotel, looked invit 
 ing and he determined to climb that. The view 
 was good, and had it not been that Mordecai sat 
 at the king s gate in the shape of unattainable Mt. 
 Washington he would have been more than satis 
 fied with it. 
 
28 HOW NED SCALED MT. WASHINGTON. 
 
 Returning, he found it was time for dinner, 
 which he prolonged as much as possible. He was 
 strongly tempted to take an earlier train for Port 
 land, but having planned to leave Fabyan s at four 
 he determined to carry out the programme as far 
 as he could. 
 
 After dinner he walked down to the station " to 
 see the other fools get caught," he said savagely 
 to himself. But the train puffed in and out and 
 nobody was caught. Ned s dissatisfaction in 
 creased. It seemed that he was the only travel 
 ler who didn t know Mt. Washington s office-hours! 
 
 He tried to strike up a conversation with the 
 agent, but found him uncommunicative and pre 
 occupied, after the manner of agents with inexperi 
 enced travellers. 
 
 " I think I ll take a stroll to the foot of the 
 mountain," said Ned, as* the agent put his key into 
 the door preparatory to locking up. 
 
 " I should," said the man, dryly, as he started 
 off. " It ll give you good exercise. 
 
 " How far is it ? " asked Ned. But the man was 
 gone. 
 
HOW NED SCALED MT. WASHINGTON. 29 
 
 Ned deliberated : " I can t get lost if I follow 
 the railroad, and I can say I ve been to the foot of 
 the mountain anyway. I ll see one end if I can t 
 the other." 
 
 He started down the track. There was a good 
 deal to see, after all, for a boy who had never be 
 held a mountain, and Ned found his spirits rising 
 as he walked. 
 
 He sauntered along, stopping now and then to 
 break off a specimen with the geologist s hammer 
 which he carried in his pocket, and once to make 
 a sketch. 
 
 " I ll make a better one from it when I get 
 home," he promised himself as he put it away and 
 jogged on. 
 
 Mountain air is deceptive, and the distance 
 which looked so short to Ned lengthened out to 
 six rniles before he reached the foot of the moun 
 tain. 
 
 Here the elevated railway begins. Ned crossed 
 from one track to the other and took a look around. 
 There was not much to see. It was unsatisfactory 
 after his long walk. 
 
30 HOW NED SCALED MT. WASHINGTON. 
 
 He looked up the mountain track it didn t 
 look very hard to climb and there must be some 
 thing to see, even just a short way up. 
 
 He took out his watch and found, to his surprise, 
 that it was already too late to make the four 
 o clock train. 
 
 And then Ned did a very foolish thing. He 
 deliberately turned his back upon Fabyan s and 
 started up the mountain. 
 
 Not that he had any idea of going to the top 
 he told himself definitely that he should only go a 
 short distance just far enough to get a view; 
 and then he should retrace his steps and reach 
 Fabyan s in time for a late supper. 
 
 The first part of the ascent was rather a dis 
 appointment. Ned had not expected to see so 
 many trees, but had pictured the whole of Mt. 
 Washington as being like the stereoscopic views 
 of the top all bowlders and lichens. More than 
 once he turned to go back, saying to himself that 
 it hadn t paid, but something drew him on per 
 haps more a dogged determination to see some 
 thing worth seeing, than anything else. 
 
HOW NED SCALED MT. WASHINGTON. 31 
 
 As he went on the trees grew smaller and scarce, 
 the chasms widened and deepened, Mt. Madison 
 and Mt. Monroe lifted their heads above the 
 clouds, and before he knew it Ned was standing 
 still, drinking in the glories of Mt. Washington. 
 
 There was no turning back now. He must have 
 the view from behind yonder bowlder once there, 
 he must cross the trestle-work beyond and look 
 into the chasm over which it hung. 
 
 Time, fatigue, cold, were forgotten. . The one 
 desirable thing in life, now, was to see. As I said, 
 he was a Western boy accustomed to level prairies 
 and sluggish streams, and this taste of mountain 
 scenery intoxicated him. 
 
 As he pressed on beyond the shelter of the over 
 hanging rocks a sharp wind struck him with a sud 
 den chill. He stopped and looked back. 
 
 The track wound down the mountain side like a 
 serpent. At the foot the shadows had deepened 
 till he could not tell tree from track. The valley 
 was full of gloom and a dull mist obscured objects 
 that he had but just now noticed. 
 
 Could it be growing dark down there ? 
 
32 HOW NED SCALED MX. WASHINGTON. 
 
 He looked up the mountain. This track was 
 clearly defined, the western light bringing every 
 thing out in relief. 
 
 A glance at his watch turned his face homeward 
 with a sudden sense of alarm. Where had the 
 time gone ? Would he be able to make it before 
 dark ? He certainly had not a moment to lose. 
 
 In turning to descend, Ned had the same ex 
 perience we all have had, doubtless ; He found it 
 was one thing to go up a steep place and quite 
 another to go down. Moreover, he had suffered 
 from childhood from dizziness in looking down any 
 steep descent. He always had hated himself for 
 having such a womanish weakness and had suf 
 fered tortures to keep the knowledge of it from the 
 boys ; but it lurked still, ready to overpower him 
 now at any moment. 
 
 To add to the danger of the descent there was a 
 frost gathering on the track and increasing every 
 minute. Ned had gone but a few steps when his 
 foot slipped on a treacherous tie and he was thrown 
 violently back. The grade was very steep at that 
 point so steep that Ned had fancied it must be 
 
HOW NED SCALED MT. WASHINGTON. 35 
 
 " Jacob s Ladder." As he sat holding on to the 
 rails he looked over the trestle to see what he had 
 escaped. One glance was enough ! He drew 
 back, sick and faint his old enemy had him ! 
 
 He sat still, with closed eyes, trying to think 
 what he should do. He must go on there was 
 no alternative but he dreaded to stand up and 
 face that chasm below. He said to himself that 
 he must not --he would not grow dizzy; and 
 of course, this very nervousness increased the 
 dizziness. 
 
 It was a lonely plight for a boy to be in, half 
 way up the mountain side, not a human soul 
 within miles, and night coming on ! How fast it 
 was coming on ! At that instant the sun dropped 
 in behind the hills, and Ned, accustomed to prairie 
 sunsets and the long afterglow, found he had 
 counted upon more daylight than he was likely to 
 have. 
 
 Nerving himself for another trial, he cautiously 
 got upon his feet. As he did so he missed his 
 hammer which he had had in his hand when he 
 fell. Looking around, he found it hanging in the 
 
36 HOW NED SCALED MT. WASHINGTON. 
 
 cog-rail a few steps above him where he had prob 
 ably thrown it in his efforts to catch himself. 
 Going back for it he found, to his surprise, that it 
 was easy enough to go up that it was the down 
 ward motion which had produced the dizziness. 
 
 This discovery brought him to a standstill again. 
 Since he couldn t go down, at least not without 
 much danger, why not go up ? 
 
 If this was really Jacob s Ladder he was half 
 way up now. If he went on he should be getting 
 more of the fading daylight all the time ; if he 
 went down into the valley he should be going 
 from it. 
 
 Then, there was another consideration. When 
 he got to the top he should be sure of a hot sup 
 per and a bed ; if he went down there would be 
 that long walk to Fabyan s after he reached the 
 base. Ned s exercise had made him hungry, and 
 the thought of ham and eggs, beefsteak and hot 
 coffee, turned the scale in favor of the Summit 
 House. 
 
 Having once determined to go on, he walked 
 briskly forward, wishing to make the most of the 
 
HOW NED SCALED MT. WASHINGTON. 37 
 
 daylight left. He looked into no more chasms, 
 but kept his gaze on the track ahead and on the 
 mountain tops across the ravines. He saw a tiny 
 spark on the top of one, and, as he looked, won 
 dering what it could be, another came, and an 
 other, and then he knew the stars were out. He 
 had a strange feeling of companionship as they 
 formed themselves into the familiar constellations. 
 They were the same old stars, anyway, the same 
 his mother was watching now, perhaps, out on the 
 prairie. He was glad she did not know where he 
 was. 
 
 There was no moon yet, but it would rise, he 
 thought, before he reached the, top. The star 
 light enabled him to see the track, but the scraggy 
 trees and brush took strange shapes. Ned was 
 sure once that a man stood by the track a little 
 ahead. When he reached it it was a dwarf-spruce. 
 Another time a horse s head rose before him as 
 the track turned, but proved to be only a jutting 
 rock. Ned was not conscious of fear, but he could 
 not keep these strange shapes out of his mind. 
 
 He stepped cautiously along the ties but once a 
 
38 HOW NED SCALED MT. WASHINGTON. 
 
 shadow deceived him and he bore his whole 
 weight upon that. Down he went between the 
 ties, almost to his armpits. He drew himself up 
 again bruised and panting. Lighting a match, he 
 set fire to a paper and threw it down looking to 
 see what it might light up. He found he was on 
 a trestle, perhaps thirty feet high, and the grade 
 was the steepest he had yet encountered. 
 
 Ned dared not trust himself, after this experi 
 ence, to walk, but laying aside everything but his 
 instinct of self-preservation he took the ties as the 
 rounds of a ladder and continued his journey on 
 all-fours. The ties were slippery and cold and 
 Ned soon felt stiff from his unaccustomed position, 
 but not knowing anything about the turns in the 
 road he thought it better to bear these ills than to 
 risk those he knew not of. 
 
 He never knew just how long he was in reaching 
 the top. Chilled through and through, with hands 
 so numb they could hardly do their work, he toiled 
 on only because there was nothing else he could do. 
 
 At last the moon rose, and almost at the same 
 moment a monument appeared at the right. This 
 
HOW NED SCALED MT. WASHINGTON. 39 
 
 Ned recognized from the pictures as the monu 
 ment erected to the memory of Lizzie Bourne, who 
 perished on this spot years ago. As ghostly as it 
 looked in the moonlight, it sent a thrill of joy 
 through his heart, for he knew it was only a few 
 steps from the top. And sure enough another 
 turn brought him out upon a level track with a 
 platform by its side. 
 
 Ned looked around him with an interest quite 
 natural under the circumstances. At his right was 
 the Summit House where he expected to find the 
 supper and the bed. To his surprise, all was dark. 
 It must be later than he had thought. 
 
 He lost no time in finding the door and giving 
 a sounding knock. Nothing answered but the 
 echoes. It was strange, there was no light in the 
 office. He wondered, as he knocked again, how 
 they made it pay this time of the year. They 
 must depend upon the railroad travel for custom. 
 A horrible thought here flashed over him. Could 
 it be that the hotel was not open ? 
 
 It was even so. Ned was on the top of Mt. 
 Washington, alone. 
 
40 HOW NED SCALED MT. WASHINGTON. 
 
 For a few minutes he almost gasped from the 
 discovery and the rarified air together. What 
 could he do ? His common sense came to the 
 rescue. Why, get into the house, of course. He 
 would freeze to death outside. 
 
 He scratched a match, shielding it from the 
 wind with his hat, and examined the window to 
 see how it was fastened. There was an ordinary 
 catch at one side, which he could easily manage 
 if he could get at it. By breaking one pane of 
 glass he could do that. Stones are plentiful on 
 the top of Mt. Washington and Ned felt no com 
 punction in using one. The catch yielded readily 
 to his touch and the next minute he was in the 
 office of the Summit House. 
 
 Another match and a little search showed him 
 a bracket lamp, and a light made the gloomy 
 room almost cheerful. The next thing was a fire. 
 There was a large coal stove in the middle of the 
 room kept burning all summer for the comfort 
 of guests, and Ned soon had a roaring fire. He 
 could not wait for coal, but made it of wood, en 
 joying heartily its snap and crackle. 
 
HOW NED SCALED MT. WASHINGTON. 41 
 
 He held his stiffened fingers to the blaze and, as 
 the warm shivers ran up his back and loosened 
 his joints, thought it wasn t such a bad adventure 
 after all. 
 
 He next took up the lamp and started on an 
 exploring tour. But with all his lucky happenings 
 he happened upon nothing to eat. Returning to 
 the office he helped himself to one of the Summit 
 House letter-heads and wrote a letter to the writer 
 of this story, dated " Top of Mt. Washington," in 
 which he detailed his adventure. 
 
 He found himself ready for bed early after his 
 unusual exertions and having choice of rooms he 
 was soon covered with warm blankets, sleeping 
 the sleep of the young. 
 
 He awoke bright and early the next morning 
 and started out to make observations. He found 
 himself on a plateau about an acre in extent. 
 The Summit House was the largest building, but 
 near were the old Tip Top House and the Signal 
 Station. If Ned had only known it he might have 
 found companions in the two officers who spend 
 nine months of the year here alone". 
 
42 HOW NED SCALED MT. WASHINGTON. 
 
 But he did not know it, and being reminded by 
 an inward craving that his breakfast hour was past 
 and a walk of nine miles yet before him he took a 
 farewell look and prepared to descend. 
 
 By day and in good weather the descent is not 
 a dangerous one, and Ned found no difficulty in 
 going rapidly ahead, sometimes walking on the 
 track, sometimes beside it, and occasionally, where 
 the grade was steep, riding on a board placed 
 across the rails, using his feet as brakes when he 
 found himself going too fast. 
 
 It was a glorious walk and paid him, he thought, 
 for all the hardships and risks of the night before. 
 But still it was rather a forlorn young man that 
 presented himself before the clerk at Fabyan s that 
 morning asking meekly if it was too late for break 
 fast. He told the whole story, not dwelling much 
 upon the climbing, which, indeed, was not neces 
 sary since his trousers corroborated the story, but 
 telling of the broken window and the stolen lodg 
 ing. " I ll pay you whatever is right," he said, 
 " if it s under your management." 
 
 The clerk smiled. " It isn t under our man- 
 
HOW NED SCALED MT. WASHINGTON. 43 
 
 agement exactly," he said. " I really should have 
 no right to take the money. And then," he said, 
 dryly, contrasting the figure before him with the 
 stylish young man of yesterday, " I rather guess 
 you ve paid your way already, haven t you ? " 
 And Ned rather thought he had. 
 
THE USE OF IT. 
 
 on, Joe ; it s a pink of a day for a frolic 
 in the woods. Father s started for the Sta 
 tion and I hid until he was off, I was so fraid he 
 might leave me something extra to do. But I m 
 free for all day, so come on, I say ! " 
 
 ".Can t, Ben." 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 " I must ride Black Harry around the pasture 
 until he s tired and stops racing ; then I m to ride 
 him along the road as far as the Post-office." 
 
 " Well, if you must you must," said Ben, " but 
 I m sorry for a feller who can t have his freedom 
 such a glory-fine day as this. By the way, Joe, 
 did I tell you, father s going to buy me a bicy 
 cle ? " 
 
 " You don t say ! " 
 
 44 
 
THE USE OF IT. 45 
 
 " Yes, true as guns ! Can you go to-morrow 
 morning to the woods if it s pleasant ? " 
 
 " No : got to saw wood." 
 
 " Well, I declare ! What s the use of a fellow s 
 having to hammer away at something in the way 
 of work all the time ? Vacation too ! " 
 
 " I can do whatever I like all the long after 
 noons," said Joe a little disconsolately ; " but 
 father thinks boys ought to learn to do all sorts of 
 useful things." 
 
 " But what s the .use ? " asked Ben. 
 
 " I suppose father knows ; and he says I will 
 one of these days if I live. But ain t you the 
 lucky boy to have a bicycle ! " 
 
 A whoop interrupted them and two or three 
 other boys appeared from around the corner ; 
 bright-eyed, active-limbed and fairly dancing with 
 fun and merriment were thp new-comers as they 
 accosted Joe and Ben in lively boy fashion : 
 
 " Come on, Toodlewigs ! Hop around there, 
 Bouncer ! We re off for a berry-picking, and our 
 noon meal in the cool shadow of the berry bushes, 
 where we shall dig a hole and roast some taters, 
 
46 THE USE OF IT. 
 
 pop some corn, and have a nice little racket all to 
 ourselves. 
 
 " Joe can t go," said Ben , " he s got to ride his 
 majesty, the young Black Harry, round the lot till 
 he s all fagged out, then take him to the Post- 
 office for the mail." 
 
 Joe laughed, but told the boys why he must re 
 main on the place for at least two mornings. 
 
 " Well, it s too bad," said the merry boys ; " but 
 we must be off or the robins will get the berries 
 before we arrive. Day, day, Joe, boy, a nice ride 
 to you ! " 
 
 Black Harry was a splendid young horse raised 
 on the place ; somewhat strong-headed, fleet, but 
 yet trustworthy if judiciously handled, else Dr. 
 Benner had hardly given orders to his only son, 
 fourteen-year-old Joe, to ride him around the lot 
 until he was tired. The boy had been trained to 
 the saddle from a child. He had also been care 
 fully instructed as to the use of axe and saw, and 
 many other tools ; also how to load and discharge 
 a gun, to row, and manage a sail boat ; and the 
 boy was a capital swimmer. 
 
THE USE OF IT 47 
 
 Dr. Banner was sometimes called an eccentric 
 man, and so perhaps he was ; but those who knew 
 the Doctor best considered him more sagacious 
 than peculiar. 
 
 Joe s mother had died during his babyhood, and 
 the Doctor realized as he once expressed it, that 
 the boy would most likely be whatever by God s 
 blessing he chose to make him, which he hoped 
 ultimately would be a whole man ; so he had set 
 conscientiously to work for that result. 
 
 " Well done ! " said the Doctor to himself, as 
 pausing on his long round of calls he stopped for 
 a moment at the wide pasture and peeped through 
 the bushes. 
 
 " Well done ! the boy manages his charger well 
 and no mistake ! " 
 
 Black Harry was literally tearing with leaps and 
 bounds from one part of the pasture to the other ; 
 occasionally a little stump would threaten to im 
 pede his progress, but with a frolicsome plunge he 
 would leave it far behind, while the sturdy young 
 rider who sat the animal with perfect ease would 
 now and then draw a tighter rein or speak a word 
 
48 THE USE OF IT. 
 
 of command, when the bounding creature would 
 obey at once as if in complete sympathy with his 
 master s wishes. 
 
 At length, after a long season of headlong speed, 
 Black Harry put on more style, as slackening his 
 pace he arched his long neck, and stepping high 
 and daintily like Puss herself, at a signal from 
 Joe, he easily leaped the low strip fence and 
 pranced along the road in the direction of the 
 Post-office. 
 
 Joe received the mail, and soon after stood 
 watching his father in the study as he began exam 
 ining his letters. 
 
 One missive proved to be a circular ; and as 
 Dr. Benner opened it, there appeared before Joe s 
 longing eyes pictures of bicycles of most attractive 
 form and style, the slender wheels seeming almost 
 to roll and move. Joe spoke : 
 
 " Oh, father, how I do wish I could have a bi 
 cycle ! " 
 
 " Well, why don t you have one, my son ? " 
 
 " Are you really willing I should ? " asked Joe 
 delightedly. 
 
THE USE OF IT. 49 
 
 " Certainly, my boy." 
 
 " And when may I get it ? " 
 
 " Just as soon as you can earn it." 
 
 Joe s countenance fell. It had been a com 
 paratively easy thing earning his money for the 
 Fourth of July which was close at hand, as so 
 many farmers had been glad of extra help during 
 the early haying ; but to earn the sum required to 
 purchase a first-class bicycle really that was too 
 bad of his father. 
 
 " Ben Low s father is going to give him a bi 
 cycle," said Joe experimentally. " I think he s a 
 wonderfully lucky fellow." 
 
 " Yes, I should think he was," said the Doctor 
 without looking up from his reading. 
 
 " And Ben has all day to himself to spend as 
 he likes," added Joe. 
 
 " When Ben gets his bicycle, you let me know 
 how many hands high it is, will you ? " said the 
 Doctor dreamily. 
 
 " Yes, indeed I will ! " Joe answered eagerly. 
 
 " And his father gives him no tasks, eh ? " 
 
 Well " Joe hesitated " Ben did say he hid 
 
50 THE USE OF IT. 
 
 until his father left the house this morning, for 
 fear he might leave him a task." 
 
 " My son ! " Dr. Benner suddenly woke up, his 
 voice ringing, his glance sharp as a needle : 
 
 " My son ! if for any reason I neglect to give 
 you a task in the morning during your vacation or 
 at any time hereafter, and you see anything you 
 think ought to be done, I wish to feel I can rely 
 on you to do it. I suppose I can trust you ? " 
 
 " Yes, father, I think you can, I m sure I want 
 you to," he added with boyish sincerity. 
 
 "Very well," was the abrupt rejoinder; "by be 
 ing faithful in little things, you may in time reap 
 large rewards and you may not. At all events 
 an approving conscience will be found an exceed 
 ing benefit ; but don t forget when Ben Low s 
 father buys his bicycle to let me know just how 
 many hands high it is. I shall be interested to 
 hear," he added dryly. 
 
 Joe was vaguely conscious that his father s tone 
 was a little incredulous, or mocking, or something 
 of the kind ; but he could not quite divine it, and 
 soon forgot the impression entirely. 
 
THE USE OF IT. 51 
 
 There was to be a Convention of medical men in 
 the city thirty miles distant on the third of July. 
 Excursion tickets were placed within the means of 
 all wishing to avail themselves of an opportunity 
 to profit by the occasion. Eminent physicians 
 from all parts of the State would meet to compare 
 facts and experiences well worth the hearing of 
 those interested in medical lore or surgical skill. 
 
 Dr. Benner was to leave home on Wednesday 
 morning, the third, expecting with many others to 
 return on the afternoon of the Fourth of July ; 
 and on the next day, the fifth, the Doctor had 
 been planning for along time to take Black Harry 
 to a Cattle Show and Horse Fair, and place the 
 beautiful animal on exhibition for the day. 
 
 This time the Doctor left no extra tasks for Joe, 
 remarking that as he was to have a holiday trip 
 himself, Joe might pass the time as he thought 
 best, provided nothing unforeseen should occur to 
 demand his attention. 
 
 Straightway the merry boys fell to planning a 
 grand picnic to take place on the Fourth. Fire 
 crackers and punk had been purchased in abun- 
 
52 THE USE OF IT. 
 
 dance at the village store. Mrs. Merriam, Dr. Ban 
 ner s housekeeper, was to make biscuit, chocolate 
 cake, frosted cake and doughnuts, the other boys 
 providing sandwiches, boiled eggs, lemons and 
 sugar. And Joe and his friends went to bed in 
 good season on Wednesday night in anticipation 
 of the next day s sport. 
 
 Thursday was bright and beautiful. Joe felt in 
 no haste as the party was not to start very early. 
 He ate his breakfast leisurely, then packed his 
 basket, and having bade Mrs. Merriam a joyous 
 "good-by," started out to meet the other boys. 
 
 He sped over the lawn in front of the house, and 
 was darting across the pasture when a loud whinny 
 close by caused him to stop a moment. Black 
 Harry came slowly up, then mutely held up one 
 hoof from which the shoe was hanging nearly 
 off. 
 
 " Oh dear ! " exclaimed Joe impatiently, " what 
 made you show that to me now, Harry ? I can t 
 help you, old boy, indeed I can t I can t ! " he 
 repeated despairingly as the exact situation forced 
 itself upon him with vexing rapidity. 
 
THE USE OF IT. 53 
 
 John, the Doctor s man, had already availed him 
 self of Dr. Benner s permission to make a little visjt 
 on his own account, expecting to meet his master 
 at the depot in the afternoon. The only other 
 man, a farm hand, was not to be trusted with the 
 romping Harry, and Joe knew only too well it 
 would be a great disappointment to his father 
 should anything prevent his taking the horse to 
 the Fair early the next morning. 
 
 What could be done ! 
 
 The blacksmith was two miles away, and a horse 
 could almost never be shod short of an hour, and 
 oftener not for two or three hours after reaching 
 the smithy s, unless taken early in the morning, 
 " and it ll be just the same Fourth o July or no 
 Fourth o July ! " said poor Joe desperately. 
 
 What could be done ! 
 
 To give up the picnic and his Fourth of July 
 his Independence Day frolic just for Black 
 Harry s shoe seemed too hard to contemplate for 
 a moment ; and just then a " whoop-a-la," burst on 
 the lad s ear and there was Ben Low and the rest 
 of the party, baskets in hand, all ready for a start. 
 
54 THE USE OF IT. 
 
 Instantly there flashed through Joe s mind a 
 recollection of the decided words his father had 
 spoken only a few days before, about relying on 
 him to do anything he thought ought to be done 
 whether the task was given him or not ; the sight 
 of Ben Low had seemed somehow to revive the 
 conversation, and on the instant he also remem 
 bered his father s permission to pass his time as he 
 thought best, provided nothing unforeseen should 
 occur to demand his attention, 
 
 And although his father had allowed that re 
 ward might possibly attend the faithful perform 
 ance of duty, Joe was too much accustomed to 
 obeying from principle to do so from any other 
 motive. 
 
 There was a sharp, brief conflict ; then Joe 
 turned resolutely towards his friends : 
 
 " I can t go, boys." 
 
 " Why ? Why ? Why, I should like to know ? " 
 cried one of his companions. 
 
 " Do not my ears deceive my eyesight ! " ex 
 claimed another tragically. 
 
 " He s mad ! Great Hercules, yes ! His senses 
 
THE USE OF IT. 57 
 
 do now forsake him ! " cried a third striking a 
 stagey attitude. 
 
 But the facts were briefly explained, and the 
 disgusted boys finally convinced that Joe was in 
 earnest. 
 
 Ben Low turned petulantly away with a familiar 
 question : " Well, I say, Old Scruples, what s the 
 use ? S pose it ll ever pay, being so awfully con- 
 s entious ? " 
 
 "Time ll tell," said Joe cheerily, and begin 
 ning to whistle to keep up heart as they all turned 
 away. 
 
 Joe remembered that his father had said he 
 wished whoever went next to the blacksmith s 
 would take the hatchet and have an edge put to it. 
 He took it from the tool-chest, then unpacked his 
 basket, making a smaller parcel containing a good 
 lunch, and having been duly petted and pitied by 
 motherly Mrs. Merriam, and telling her he might 
 not return for several hours, he soon started off, 
 riding Black Harry carefully, that the graceful 
 creature might not grow lame from travelling too 
 rapidly without a shoe. 
 
5 THE USE OF IT. 
 
 Now and then he thought with a twinge of regret 
 of his lost holiday sport, but after a long, hot ride 
 over the country roads and through quite a stretch 
 of woods, he at last reached the blacksmith s where 
 it seemed as if every fine horse for miles around 
 was awaiting his turn to be shod. 
 
 The day would have been a trying one but for 
 the fact that Joe, being an enterprising, intelligent 
 lad, fond of seeing what was going on and learn 
 ing something* new if possible, became interested 
 in watching the men at their work. He liked to 
 see the fiery sparks fly from the forge ; liked to see 
 the grinding wheel go swiftly round gradually 
 sharpening the dull edge ; and there was not a lit 
 tle diversion in listening to the remarks and opin 
 ions of the different ones who had a horse to be 
 shod or an axe to be ground. 
 
 At four o clock in the afternoon Joe started for 
 home thinking he would go around by the railroad. 
 
 One topic of conversation at the smithy s that 
 day had attracted his attention more than any 
 other, and had impressed him unpleasantly. Con 
 siderable had been said about the ponderously 
 
THE USE OF IT. 59 
 
 long train which was to bring the doctors home, 
 leaving them at different towns all along the county, 
 and how the time and signals had been arranged 
 with great accuracy to give the Excursion train 
 ample time to avoid the regular Express. 
 
 " Wall, I s pose Benjamin Low ought to know 
 what he s bout," said a burly countryman, " but 
 I tell you it s resky business, this switchin an 
 signallin great crowded trains. Wants a man o 
 stiddy habits and clear brains to keep his wits 
 about him, and not make any mistakes, I tell you!" 
 
 There was general concurrence in the man s 
 views, and Joe noted the fact with an uneasy sen 
 sation. It seemed there must be a lurking sus 
 picion or knowledge of possible unfaithfulness 
 on past occasions, regarding Ben Low s father, yet 
 he must have been considered trustworthy to be 
 left with such great responsibility. 
 
 The switch-tender s little station was still two 
 miles farther away from home ; but mounted on 
 Black Harry firmly shod, and impatient after 
 standing still so long, it was the merest run. 
 
 So with the nicely sharpened hatchet across his 
 
60 THE USE OF IT. 
 
 lap away sped Joe, and in a very short time he 
 came unexpectedly upon the switch-tender him 
 self lying flat by the side of the station in a heavy 
 sleep. 
 
 In vain Joe shouted and called. The man 
 could not or would not waken. Joe grew cold 
 with a strange anxiety and apprehension. The 
 place was very lonely ; he had passed but a single 
 habitation during his two miles ride, and that 
 about midway, fully a mile back. It would be 
 hard work summoning aid. 
 
 Hastily slipping from Black Harry s back, he 
 secured him, then grasping Mr. Low by the 
 shoulder he shook him as vigorously as he could. 
 
 The sleeper roused himself a little and gazed 
 stupidly at Joe s face. 
 
 " Is the switch all right ? " called Joe. 
 
 " You fix switch," he mumbled. 
 
 " I say ! " Joe called again, " wake up, Mr. Low, 
 wake up, I tell you ! Two loaded trains are com 
 ing along in half an hour! Are the switches at 
 tended to, and the signals all right ? " 
 
 " You see sig alls." Then the poor drunken 
 
THE USE OF IT. 6 1 
 
 man fell flat again overcome by the fatal drowsi 
 ness. 
 
 Joe realized the exact situation and set his sharp 
 boy s wits to work. He himself was ignorant of 
 switches and signals. There was not a moment to 
 lose; he must stop that incoming train. But how? 
 
 For three precious minutes he thought intently, 
 then exclaimed excitedly, " Yes, I have it ! " 
 Springing into the saddle he put Black Harry to 
 his utmost speed. 
 
 A mile ahead, still following the track, was a 
 high knoll ; if only he could gain that point and 
 rig up some kind of a signal, he might warn them 
 in time, his precious father among the rest he 
 must do it ! 
 
 He reached the spot, again fastened Black 
 Harry, then climbed wrist over wrist the first low- 
 branched tree he came to, firmly grasping the 
 hatchet in one hand. 
 
 " Luckiest thing in creation I happened to have 
 this hatchet along," he said aloud, as he began 
 chopping off a long, firm branch. 
 
 It was dexterously done and hatchet and branch 
 
62 THE USE OF IT. 
 
 were dropped to the ground just as the Excursion 
 train whistled at the next station beyond. In five 
 or six minutes more she would pass the spot where 
 Joe was waiting. 
 
 Would they see him if he remained on the 
 ground ? No ; he must mount Black Harry, hold 
 ing him with one hand, and his signal in the other, 
 then trust to his horsemanship and skill in coaxing 
 and commanding to control the mettlesome animal 
 when the train should come thundering around. 
 
 Tearing off his checked blouse, he tied it firmly 
 with his handkerchief to the end of the long, wil 
 lowy pole, and mounting Black Harry, he waved 
 his signal aloft as the train came with a swoop 
 and a roar around the curve, only quarter of a 
 mile distant. 
 
 Black Harry plunged and reared, but obeyed 
 astonishingly the peremptory voice of his young 
 master, as the rushing thing came on. In his ex 
 citement as the train swept by, Joe not only waved 
 his signal wildly, but shouted at the top of his 
 strong young voice : 
 
 " Stop ! Oh stop ! For Heaven s sake, stop, I 
 
THE USE OF IT. 63 
 
 say ! " Then he heard the sharp alarum whisfeie, 
 saw the brakeman hastily twisting the metals, and 
 still waving his signal high in air, he raced after 
 the slackening train. 
 
 An hour later, when the danger was past, but 
 fully realized, the grateful passengers from both 
 rescued trains were forcing upon Joe s acceptance 
 a generous gift hastily collected ; the spontaneous 
 expression of their admiration of the boy s pluck 
 and of their thankfulness ; but his father held him 
 back. 
 
 The Doctor s shrewd eyes were decidedly moist 
 as he asked for the third time in his dry, charac 
 teristic way, viewing the purse as if it were a nat 
 ural curiosity : 
 
 " But what could he do with it a lad like him 
 who has a father ? " 
 
 " Do with it ?" roared a wealthy farmer from up 
 country, who in company with his son, a young 
 physician, had attended the convention ; " do with 
 it ? Why, man alive ! let him buy peanuts with it 
 if there is nothing else he wants more, but don t 
 say a fellow sha n t give a little thank-offering for 
 
64 THE USE OF IT. 
 
 the savin o his life and only son s, let alone there 
 bein several scores of us alive and whole, as might 
 a-been crushed to atoms, but for this young hero 
 o yourn ! " 
 
 The speech so loud at first ended in a tremble. 
 
 " Might as well give in, Doctor, for this once," 
 said another old gentleman ; " we couldn t rest in 
 our beds to-night if the boy went unrewarded." 
 
 And the Doctor had to give in, because the peo 
 ple would have their way ; and they went off leav 
 ing their gift in Joe s hands. 
 
 That night, after recounting the events of the 
 day to his father, Joe added : " I suppose I can use 
 some of my present for a bicycle, can t I ? " 
 
 " No ; my son," said Dr. Benner, laying his 
 hand on Joe s knee, " no, my boy, the Bank will 
 be the best place for that at present. I hardly 
 approved that way of rewarding a simple act of 
 humanity, but not wishing to wound the feelings 
 of any one waived my own inclinations in the mat 
 ter. But I shall buy you a bicycle myself in a day 
 or two, because I think well I think, my boy, 
 all things considered, you have earned one. You 
 
THE USE OF IT. 65 
 
 lost your holiday sport, but saved your honor as to 
 trustworthiness. 
 
 Then he added with his occasional startling en 
 ergy : " But I want to tell you one thing, my 
 child, Benjamin Low was once before found sleep 
 ing at his post. It was a long time ago, and peo 
 ple began to feel assured he would not be guilty of 
 like infidelity a second time. But if in your youth 
 you yield to temptation of that kind, I doubt if 
 in your manhood you are either loyal to duty, or 
 possess so much as a thimbleful of pluck. And I 
 don t believe a son of yours would own a bicycle 
 half a hand high remember that, my boy ! 
 
 " And as to the use of faithfulness in little 
 things : Well, if you had let Black Harry go with 
 out his shoe and risked disappointing me to-mor 
 row, it is doubtful whether you and father would 
 be talking safely and contentedly with each other 
 to-night as we are doing extremely doubtful, 
 Joe." 
 
NAN S BAMBINO. 
 
 IT surely all came from Nan s wearing specta 
 cles. Not stylish, saucy "nippers," but regu 
 lar, gold-bowed spectacles. They made her look 
 about ten times as knowing as any fourteen-year- 
 old girl has any business to be. They cast a sort 
 of distinguishing halo about her eyes. For Nan 
 was not far-sighted ; she was not near-sighted ; 
 she was not cross-eyed; nor bleared-eyed. But 
 the trouble was as-tig-ma-tism, and it took an un 
 abridged dictionary for the other girls to find out 
 what that meant. Nan was the only young person 
 in town with that long-worded disease, so her 
 position was an enviable one from a certain 
 point of view ! 
 
 Nan never forgot her dignity, nor her spectacles. 
 She even kept them close by her bedside at night, 
 in case of sudden illness or fire. If she happened 
 66 
 
NAN S BAMBINO. 67 
 
 to wake before morning (which she did about 
 twice in the course of a year), she immediately 
 clapped her glasses on, to see that all was right. 
 
 But this particular night, Nan was not asleep ; 
 she was sitting bolt upright in bed, spectacles on 
 nose, straining both ears to hear the words which 
 came through the open door. 
 
 " If we go to Europe, Nan must go too." 
 
 " Well but consider " 
 
 "There s no but about it, John dear. Not a 
 step will I stir without my one chick. Neither 
 will you. You know you would be perfectly mis 
 erable with the Atlantic Ocean between you and 
 your girl." 
 
 " So I should. So I should," admitted " John," 
 who was no other than Nan s father. The next 
 moment he gave an exclamation of surprise, for, 
 on the threshold, stood Nan, her eyes shining like 
 two stars behind the glittering glass of her spec 
 tacles. 
 
 " O, Daddy ! " she gasped, and there were 
 volumes in those two words. 
 
 Her father laughed. 
 
68 
 
 " You shall go, my little kid," he said. And go 
 she did. 
 
 The marvels which presented themselves to those 
 spectacles are not to be counted. 
 
 They peered at the cogs and wheels and pistons 
 of the Gallic? s engines. They took a survey of 
 the " steerage " to see where Mikey McGrath and 
 Blitsen Sneiders ate their meals and " slept the 
 sleep" of the comparatively "just." 
 
 They " spiered " at Roslyn Chapel, near Edin 
 burgh, and the like of its wondrous carvings they 
 had never seen. They looked round all the cor 
 ners in London Tower, and grew so misty in the 
 room where the Two Little Princes were smoth 
 ered, that Nan had to actually give up wearing 
 them for several minutes. 
 
 They stared at the grandest woman that was 
 ever made the deathless " Venus of Milo," in 
 the Louvre, and the busy brain behind them cried 
 out, " Oh ! Oh ! ! Oh ! ! ! " and could find no other 
 words sufficient for the occasion. 
 
 Those glasses " took in " the lovely Swiss lakes, 
 and their owner s heart gave a great throb of de- 
 
NAN S BAMBINO. 69 
 
 light when they saw the blessed old " Northern 
 Dipper " shining calmly above the Alps, just as 
 much at home among such lofty companions as 
 when twinkling over " Stubb s Hill " in America. 
 
 And now Nan was in Rome, safely quartered in 
 the blue-papered room at Madame Chapman s 
 Pension, on the Via Nasionale. 
 
 Nan didn t care much for the " ruins " in Rome. 
 She had not begun her Latin yet and knew about 
 as much of Julius Ca3sar and Cicero and the rest 
 of those ancient worthies, as most of us do con 
 cerning Thothmes u. of Egypt, or of Helioga- 
 balus. So the " Forum " was alas ! of little 
 consequence to those gold-bowed spectacles, and, 
 I regret to state, that their ignorant little owner 
 called the " Coliseum " " an old, tumble-down, 
 brick shanty." Instead of listening to the thrill 
 ing tales of the deeds of heroism and of valor 
 which had taken place on that spot, Nan was 
 making friends with a group of dirty Italian chil 
 dren, and coaxing them to let her hold their " bam 
 bino" (baby) which gazed at her imperturbably 
 with round, black, beady eyes. 
 
7 NAN S BAMBINO. 
 
 In fact the Italian bambini were Nan s especial 
 delight in Rome. And how they did swarm. 
 Babies to the right, babies to the left. Babies in 
 the stived-up back streets ; babies surrounding 
 Trajan s Forum ; babies on the Bridge of St. 
 Angelo. That was where, on this particular morn 
 ing, Nan and her mother were pausing ; mamma 
 examining Bernini s " Breezy Maniacs " (great 
 angels, with fluttering wings and garments), Nan 
 casting hasty glances at them and then making 
 sundry darts at one, two, three babies, by the way. 
 
 " Come, Nan, come," said her mother. " If we 
 are going to St. Peter s this morning, we must 
 hurry, for the rain will catch us before long." 
 
 Indeed the rain did catch them, in spite of their 
 hastening steps. They could only rush hurriedly 
 across the great Piazza in front of St. Peter s and 
 take a hasty refuge in the vestibule. 
 
 How the rain came down ! It pelted and it 
 poured. The music of the fountains, in front of 
 the church, was wholly lost in the rushing sound 
 of the deluge from the skies. 
 
 And yet, as Nan and her mother stood gazing 
 
NAN S BAMBINO. 71 
 
 out, what should appear but a group of people, 
 walking along as complacently as if they were not 
 dripping wet, and as if the water could not have 
 been wrung out of a certain blue bundle which 
 one of the party carried. 
 
 " And, mother ! " cried Nan, in a great excite 
 ment, " I verily believe it s a Baby wrapt in blue 
 silk, and coming, in all the storm, to be baptized ! " 
 
 Before her mamma could interfere, Nan had 
 run up to the group, her whole face aglow, her 
 eyes beaming with sympathy behind those gold- 
 bowed spectacles. 
 
 "Bambino ? " she was saying eagerly. " A h ! " 
 
 Such an expressive "A h!" those simple- 
 hearted Romans had never heard. Never did 
 spectacles look more solemn. 
 
 " Bambino 1 " questioned Nan. 
 
 "Bambino!" said one of the women, lifting a 
 corner of the blue silk. 
 
 There it lay, that eight-days-old baby, looking as 
 clean and as comfortable as any baby in the 
 world. 
 
 The heavy, leathern portiere, which serves for a 
 
72 NAN S BAMBINO. 
 
 door, was pushed aside, and the party entered the 
 great church. Eager Nan followed on its heels. 
 
 In the first side chapel on the left stands the 
 enormous font. Its heavy, brazen top had been 
 removed. Toward this chapel the baby was car 
 ried. Nan again approached. This time she held 
 out her arms. 
 
 "Bambino!" she repeated imploringly, and, sud 
 denly, to her surprise, greatly to her delight, she 
 found herself holding that droll little baby. It 
 was as stiff as a stick of wood, for, like many 
 Italian babies, it was swathed tightly. Not a foot 
 could this bambino move. Nan s eyes winked hard, 
 partly with pleasure, partly with embarrassment. 
 A tall priest, clad in gold-embroidered vestments, 
 stood waiting at the font. One of the women 
 attempted to take the baby. "A h ! " pleaded 
 Nan again. 
 
 The woman showed two rows of white teeth, 
 and, almost before she knew it, Nan found her 
 self- assisting at the baptism, in the capacity of 
 nurse. 
 
 Not a word of the Latin service, excepting the 
 
NAN S BAMBINO. 73 
 
 " Amens," could she understand, but she was 
 keenly alive to her duties, and followed the guid 
 ance of the woman on her left. 
 
 The priest breathed on the baby; put salt on 
 its little red tongue ; touched its breast and back 
 with oil ; and then Nan, according to direction, 
 held her little stiff burden out, at right angles to 
 her own body, with its head over the font, while 
 the water was poured on its black hair. 
 
 How it came to pass that she was allowed to do 
 all this, I do not know. I can only tell you that 
 no one made any objection. The gentle women 
 smiled on her. The young father of the baby 
 seemed quite flattered by the attention. 
 
 After all was over, Nan tried a few words in 
 Italian. "Americana" she said, pointing to herself. 
 
 The women nodded. 
 
 " La Madre Amore" Nan went on. 
 
 A puzzled look came into the young father s 
 eyes, but it gradually dawned on him that this ex 
 traordinary little individual was trying to send her 
 love to the baby s mother. 
 
 They all shook hands in the kindest fashion. 
 
74 NAN S BAMBINO. 
 
 If the women looked strange to Nan, in their coral 
 necklaces, big gold ear-rings and striped aprons, 
 there is no doubt that she impressed them quite 
 as much. But hearty good-will lay at the bottom 
 of all their sentiments. " Grazie " they murmured. 
 
 And "Grazie! Thank you ever so much! 
 Grazie!" said Nan. 
 
 "Weren t they oh! weren t they good to let 
 me hold the bambino ? " she cried to her mother, 
 who had stood near, watching the whole affair. 
 
 Nan never saw those people again ; but she 
 often wonders how that Italian baby is getting 
 along, and she says, " I rather think I m the first 
 American girl who ever played * Nurse in St. 
 Peter s, Rome." 
 
IN THE LINE OF THE EARTH 
 QUAKE. 
 
 IT had been the quietest night possible. Not a 
 breath of air stirred among the gray-green 
 olives of the hills. The Mediterranean lay like a 
 steel-blue mirror spread out for the stars to look 
 down on. All the world was still asleep, dreaming, 
 if at all, of that gay Carnival time which had but 
 just ended, and whose fantastic, unreasoning mirth- 
 making might well pursue one into the droll land 
 of dreams, when suddenly through the dusky still 
 ness of the early morning there came a sound like 
 the booming of a distant battlefield, or the break 
 ing of an angry surf upon a long line of shore, 
 accompanied by a trembling and jarring and 
 rumbling of the whole earth, as when a mighty 
 train thunders past some tiny wayside station. 
 And then all in a moment, before I had time to 
 
 75 
 
76 IN THE LINE OF THE EARTHQUAKE. 
 
 question what it meant, our house began to rock 
 violently to and fro, as if some great monster of 
 the world below had seized upon it in his hand 
 and was shaking it as a terrier shakes a rat. I 
 sprang up in bed in horror, almost suffocated by 
 the plaster dust in the air, while the war of the 
 earthquake was drowned in the noise of shivering 
 china and failing furniture, of straining, breaking 
 timbers, and of tottering partitions that groaned like 
 human things in agony as the walls were wrenched 
 asunder. It was like looking on at what one 
 imagines the end of the world might be a sud 
 den awful instant of unheralded and overwhelming 
 destruction. 
 
 The first shock, from beginning to end, lasted 
 less than fifty seconds, when all was still again ; 
 but in a few moments more, before I could free 
 myself from the entanglement of bent rods and 
 fallen curtains and masses of solid plaster (which, 
 but for those same iron rods, bent over me like 
 protecting arms, would indubitably have killed me 
 on the spot), there came a second shock, shorter 
 and far less severe than the first, but alarming 
 
IN THE LINE OF THE EARTHQUAKE. 77 
 
 enough even so, as we stood with the hanging walls 
 and loose boards shaking and rattling around us 
 like the flapping sails and creaking cordage of a 
 ship in the midst of a gale. 
 
 Fortunately our stairway was still standing, for 
 one s best chance of safety at such a time lies in 
 escaping between the shocks to some open space 
 out of reach of the falling buildings ; and seizing 
 whatever lay nearest to hand, we rushed down and 
 out to a public garden, where we found a crowd of 
 panic-stricken fugitives like ourselves, in every 
 variety of scanty costumes, roughly cloaked in 
 rugs and blankets snatched up in mad haste as they 
 fled, and all with faces unforgettably white and 
 ghastly and full of that nameles dread of those 
 who have looked Death close in the face and have 
 caught glimpses of things unutterable. 
 
 At first we sat or stood about in groups, awed 
 into utter speechlessness. All sorts of odd things 
 happened, but at the time nothing struck us as 
 either ludicrous or surprising. One invalid, who 
 had not walked for years, under the fright of the 
 earthquake ran in her nightdress and bare feet 
 
78 IN THE LINE OF THE EARTHQUAKE. 
 
 from her hotel to our garden, which was some 
 squares away, and the same curious unaccountable 
 recovery of lost powers was reported of several 
 paralytics who were instantaneously cured by the 
 shock. By degrees however, as all continued 
 quiet, confidence returned ; the more venturesome 
 made daring raids back into the houses to save 
 what they could from the general wreckage ; 
 tongues were loosened, and strangers and friends 
 talked indiscriminately, exchanging their various 
 experiences and retailing many hairbreath escapes 
 as miraculous as my own ; and some broke down 
 completely and sobbed hysterically, and others 
 tried to laugh and make a joke of it, not realizing 
 that their jesting seemed as out of place as merri 
 ment in a graveyard, while a child and a little dog 
 with alert brown ears and bright eyes gleaming 
 with frolic the only two uncomprehending happy 
 beings among us all struck up an intimate 
 friendship, and made sport with each other in and 
 out between the frightened people, and played bo- 
 peep over the heaps of reserved household belong 
 ings flung in motley piles upon the gravel, and 
 
IN THE LINE OF THE EARTHQUAKE. 79 
 
 were hungry and ate biscuits with undisturbed, 
 every-day appetites. 
 
 So time wore by in wretched suspense, till three 
 hours later a third shock came, which paralyzed 
 laughter and sobs alike on the instant, and drove 
 back the blood from every face, and many rushed 
 screaming into each other s arms and frantically 
 embraced, thinking to die together. It was horrible 
 to look up through the .clear bright sunlight and 
 see the houses swaying and staggering like drunken 
 things, and hear the deep, hoarse, sullen, subter 
 ranean growl, and the sound of crashing and rend- 
 irig and breaking on every side, followed by such 
 a cry sent up from a whole cityful of terrified peo 
 ple as surely one never hears but once. And then 
 came silence again, a silence almost worse than 
 any sound, for in it one heard one s own heart 
 beat and felt fear turning to ice in one s veins. For 
 of all the dread sensations of an earthquake, the 
 worst is the feeling of indescribable horror which 
 possesses one from head to foot, and which is 
 neither excitement nor despair nor alarm, nor like 
 anything one has ever known before. Only those 
 
82 IN THE LINE OF THE EARTHQUAKE. 
 
 who have felt it can comprehend it ; it is the ex 
 perience of a lifetime, bought in one single awful 
 unearthly moment. 
 
 That third shock was the last of any severity, 
 but lesser ones continued at intervals all the day 
 and night following, and indeed for long there 
 after. Scarcely anybody was brave enough when 
 night came to venture again indoors. Some of our 
 friends slept in the open gardens on benches or 
 on mattresses spread upon the trembling ground ; 
 some slept in tents; some in the tiny bathing 
 houses along the beach, and some, like gypsies, 
 camped out in their own carriages. We were 
 offered shelter by a friend whose villa, being at 
 the east end of the town, was one of the few that 
 had escaped injury, and there we all slept in the 
 drawing-rooms on the ground floor, dressed and 
 ready to rush into the garden at the first threaten 
 ing of danger. 
 
 Our drive through the town to reach this villa, 
 was like passing through some city of the dead. 
 The deserted streets were blocked with de bris 
 from the mutilated, desolate, uninhabited and un- 
 
IN THE LINE OF THE EARTHQUAKE. 83 
 
 habitable houses. Here a wall was cracked open 
 from top to botton ; here cracked and seamed and 
 blistered all over like a plate exposed to too great 
 heat , here the whole front of a house had fallen 
 out, and there a tower had come crashing down to 
 the ground. Not a roof but had lost tiles and 
 chimneys at least. Balustrades and balconies had 
 given way on all sides. Windows were set awry. 
 , Shutters and doors hung flapping on broken 
 hinges like helpless signals of distress. Great 
 stones were twisted completely around as if they 
 had spun like tops in their places, and plaster lay 
 ash-like over everything, leaving great unsightly 
 scar-like spots to mark from where it fell. It 
 seemed an almost incredible transformation of the 
 place. One felt as if the years had suddenly 
 slipped back into the by-gone ages, and as if one 
 were part and parcel oneself of some as yet un- 
 historied Herculaneum or Pompeii. 
 
 Thousands and thousands of people fled North 
 ward that morning from all along the Riviera, 
 many of them leaving bag and baggage behind 
 them, for it is marvellous how quickly even one s 
 
84 IN THE LINE OF THE EARTHQUAKE. 
 
 dearest possessions lose all value the moment 
 life is in peril Six weeks since that ter 
 rible twenty-third of February, eighteen hundred 
 and eighty-seven. Even the most timid and most 
 unnerved have regained their courage and their lost 
 spirits. Those whose houses were spared returned 
 long since even into the upper storeys. The shops 
 are reopened, and masons and bricklayers and car 
 penters are everywhere at work, repairing where 
 repair is possible, and cheerily rebuilding where 
 they must. The sentinels who forbade entrance 
 at doors of condemned houses, and the soldiers 
 who stood guard over streets unsafe for public 
 traffic, have withdrawn their prohibitions and 
 disappeared. Mentone will soon again wear its 
 bright and smiling face of old. Yet while we live, 
 none of us who were in the line of the earthquake, 
 can ever forget that dim gray Ash Wednesday 
 morning when we awoke so suddenly out of our 
 Carnival dreams to find ourselves in sackcloth 
 and ashes indeed, and with the Miserere stifled 
 upon our lips. 
 
A CATSKILL BEAR STORY. 
 
 BEARS in the Catskills ? " 
 Well, there certainly are none prowling 
 about the Overlook Mountain House, nor the 
 Hotel Kaaterskill, nor even in the vicinity of that 
 romantic crag called Rip Van Winkle s Rock. 
 In fact, during the week s ramble which we took 
 my friend and I among the back woods and 
 glens of Slide Mountain and the Indian Head, 
 we failed to discover traces of either bear or wild 
 cat. 
 
 To say that we saw "neither hide nor hair" of 
 them, as the phrase is, would not be true. There 
 is a great, tawny, glass-eyed, stuffed wildcat at 
 Meade s, on the Overlook ; and in a farmer s house 
 at Big Indian we saw a black bear s skin, the 
 original wearer of which had been killed by the 
 present owner, only a few winters ago. 
 
 85 
 
86 A CATSKILL BEAR STORY. 
 
 But we found bear-stories plenty of them. 
 Whenever we met a native or old settler of the 
 region, we straightway asked him for a bear-story ; 
 and he seldom disappointed us. We soon had 
 quite a collection, the gem of which is the one I 
 am going to tell you now. It has never before 
 been told in print, I am sure ; for we had it from 
 the lips of the hero himself an Italian laborer 
 who, having originally come into the Catskills to 
 work on one of the railroads, had finally made 
 his home there. 
 
 Seated on a raft at the edge of the pond where 
 we were fishing, he related his story in broken 
 English, which I will endeavor to mend not in 
 the hope of making it funnier, but simply to ren 
 der it more intelligible. 
 
 His name was Nanni (short for Giovanni) Rocco. 
 It seems that in Italy, where Nanni was born and 
 grew up, he had been a kind of showman. He 
 used to travel among the Apennine villages with 
 a performing bear, which he had taught to wres 
 tle so skillfully that the huge animal, tightly muz 
 zled and with claws blunted, would "throw" all 
 
A CATSKILL BEAR STORY. 87 
 
 comers who ventured to measure their strength 
 with him. Then his master would try a bout, 
 and always come off victorious ; but this was due 
 to a secret understanding with the bear, who, at 
 a given signal, would fall to the ground and pre 
 tend to be overcome. This was done so naturally 
 and so regularly, that after a while Nanni came 
 to believe himself really more than a match for 
 the beast ; and the faithful creature never unde 
 ceived him. 
 
 The fame of Nanni and his wrestling bear 
 spread far and wide. One day an agent came 
 along and engaged him for a foreign tour, to ex 
 tend as far as America. This began very suc 
 cessfully ; and no doubt Nanni would have made 
 his fortune in America, had not his indispensable 
 partner, the bear, sickened and died shortly after 
 their arrival in New York. 
 
 His master mourned him like a child. Such 
 another animal was not to be found for love or 
 money, and poor Nanni s occupation was gone. 
 Disheartened and without resources, he finally 
 engaged himself with a number of his fellow-coun- 
 
88 A CATSKILL BEAR STORY. 
 
 trymen, to work on the railroads. This employ 
 ment, in the course of time, brought him to the 
 Catskill Mountains. 
 
 When the line of the Ulster and Delaware Rail 
 road was first surveyed, the region through which 
 it passes had much more the air of a forest pri 
 meval than it possesses to-day. The principal " old 
 settlers" then were the bears and panthers and 
 wildcats, with here and there a rattlesnake. 
 There was good sport in the mountains, at that 
 period. 
 
 One day a good-sized bear, closely pursued by 
 two hunters, came tearing through the underbrush, 
 close by the place where Nanni and his companions 
 were at work. It was a wild spot, overlooking 
 that stupendous ravine where the snowy veil of 
 the Kaaterskill Falls hangs gracefully down the 
 black wall of wet rocks. 
 
 " Head him off ! " cried the hunters. 
 
 But the Italian laborers were too frightened to 
 dispute the passage of the panting animal. The 
 mere sight of them, however, caused him to slacken 
 his pace and look about him, his red tongue hang- 
 
ON THE EDGE OF THE PRECIPICE. 
 
A CATSKILL BEAR STORY. 9! 
 
 ing out of his open mouth, and his mischievous 
 little eyes flashing with rage and defiance. 
 
 Before him were the Italians, behind him the 
 hunters. On one side was the precipice, and op 
 posite stood Nanni and he was not the man to 
 run away. 
 
 If he trembled, it was from excitement and 
 emotion not from fear. The sight of the free, 
 full-grown bear at bay, and rearing threateningly 
 upon his hind-legs, caused a flood of recollections 
 to rush through Nanni s mind. Inspired by the 
 thought of his triumphant wrestling days, he had 
 but one idea, and that was to get a good " side 
 hold " of the bear, throw him on his back, and 
 capture him. 
 
 " Stop-a ! stop-a ! " he screamed, motioning back 
 the hunters, who had raised their guns to fire. 
 " I ll catch-a him for you ! " 
 
 To the speechless amazement of his comrades, 
 he rushed forward and grappled with the infu 
 riated bear, throwing one arm around the plump, 
 hairy body, and with the other hand clutching the 
 shaggy throat. 
 
9 2 A CATSKILL BEAR STORY. 
 
 The struggle was terrific while it lasted, and by 
 no means one-sided. Bruin snapped with his jaws, 
 and slapped out wildly with his huge paws, tear 
 ing great strips from Nanni s clothing at each 
 blow. He did not seem to be at all particular 
 whether bits of Nanpi s skin and flesh came with 
 the cloth or not. Then the two fell, and rolled in 
 the dust. The spectators cried : 
 
 " They ll go over, as sure as " 
 
 Before the sentence was out of their mouths, 
 crash ! went man and bear over the precipice 
 together. The others heard the crackling of 
 branches as they fell and were lost to sight in the 
 dense foliage that clothed the mountain-side. 
 
 Horror-stricken, the men scrambled down the 
 rocks as best they could by roundabout ways, to 
 pick up poor Nanni s mangled body. 
 
 Mangled indeed he was, when they found him, 
 but not killed. He and the bear had providen 
 tially tumbled into a thicket of huckleberry-bushes 
 on a ledge half-way down the ravine. Bruin had 
 made off, leaving Nanni stunned, bleeding, and 
 highly indignant. 
 
A CATSKILL BEAR STORY. 93 
 
 "Dat-a bear no good-a," he said, in a feeble but 
 protesting tone, to his rescuers. " He not know-a 
 how to wrestle. He not wrestle fair ! " 
 
 This is not a fable, but it has a moral : Don t 
 expect good behavior from others, according to 
 your own ideas of proper conduct, when you pay 
 no regard to theirs. 
 
Margaret Sidney s Illustrated Quartos. 
 
 Golden West as Seen by the Ridgway Club. 
 
 4to, cloth, 2.25; boards, 1.75. 
 
 A pictorial and talkative run from Boston to 
 Monterey for health and pleasure and information. 
 And what the jolly party sees from the car windows 
 is only part of the treat. 
 
 What the Seven Did, or the Doings of the 
 
 Wordsworth Club. 
 
 i 
 
 4to, cloth, 2.25; boards, 1.75. 
 
 The seven are little girl neighbors, the Words 
 worth Club, which met once a week at their several 
 homes to have a good time. Those good times are 
 the book. The best of them had to do with the 
 fathers and mothers and Widow Barker s cow. 
 
 Who Told it to Me. 
 
 Square 8vo, boards, 1.25; cloth 1.75. 
 
 Neighbor boys and girls growing up together, 
 having their ins and outs, and ups and downs ; and 
 the old folks had their share in the yung folks 
 doings, as they ought. It was a jolly Pengannop. 
 They did grow good men and women those days in 
 New England. 
 
 Polly and the Children. 
 
 4to, boards, 50 cents. 
 
 The parrot has surprising adventures at the 
 children s party and wears a medal after the fire. 
 28 
 
Family Flight Series. 
 
 By E. E. HALE and SUSAN HALE, 
 8vo, boards, each, 1.75 ; cloth, 2.25. 
 
 Book journeys through the several countries 
 with eyes and ears wide open, old eyes and young 
 eyes and ears. The books are full of pictures, and 
 fuller of knowledge not only of what is going on 
 but what has gone on ever since book-making began, 
 and fuller yet of brightness and interest. You see 
 the old as old ; but you see it ; you see where it was 
 and the marks it left. You see the new with eyes 
 made sharper by knowledge of what has gone in 
 the world. 
 
 In other words these books amount to some 
 thing like going through these places with a travel 
 ing companion who knows all about them and their 
 histories. 
 
 They are written and pictured for boys and girls -, 
 but there is nothing to hinder the old folks going 
 
 along. Will you go ? 
 
 FAMILY FLIGHT AROUND HOME. 
 
 FAMILY FLIGHT OVER EGYPT AND SYRIA. 
 
 FAMILY FLIGHT THROUGH FRANCE, GERMANY, 
 NORWAY AND SWITZERLAND. 
 
 FAMILY FLIGHT THROUGH MEXICO. 
 
 FAMILY FLIGHT THROUGH SPAIN. 
 
 One of the most effective means of exciting and 
 
 satisfying zeal for knowledge of the world we have 
 
 in books. 
 
All Among the Lighthouses, or the 
 Cruise of the Goldenrod. 
 
 By MARY BRADFORD CROWNINSHIELD. 
 8vo, illustrated, cloth, 2.50. 
 
 Two boys and a girl accompany a government 
 lighthouse inspector on his tour along the coast of 
 Maine in the Steamship Goldenrod. They not 
 only have the journey and see that remarkable 
 coast ; they have the lighthouse system explained 
 with pictures and maps. A promising trip; and 
 the book does it justice. Every inch of the way 
 has its fill of delightful instruction. 
 
 The Ignoramuses. 
 
 By MARY BRADFORD CROWNINSHIELD, 
 Svo, illustrated, cloth, 2.50. 
 
 The same go to Europe. They not only had a 
 good time themselves on the Goldenrod, but made 
 a most entertaining book. So they go abroad for 
 another. As before they go to learn ; and, while 
 they are about it, here s another book as good as 
 the Lighthouse Cruise. 
 
 Dame Heraldry. 
 
 By F. S. W. Illustrated by nine pages 
 of colored plates and numerous engrav 
 ings. Svo, cloth, 2.50. 
 
 The writer, his children having an interest in 
 heraldry, set himself at the task of telling them 
 what he knew of it. Hence the book; which 
 treats the whole subject formally, yet with a pleas 
 ant vacation air. 
 
Storied Holidays. 
 
 By ELBRIDGE S. BROOKS, author of The 
 American Indian, In Leisler s Times, In 
 No-Man s Land, and others. i2mo, cloth, 
 
 $1.50. 
 
 An historic tale connected with a holi 
 day in every month of the year. 
 
 There is the snapdragon Christmas quar 
 rel of James I. of England with his sons 
 about the release of Sir Walter Raleigh ; a 
 New Year s meeting of Margery More with 
 Henry VIII ; how William Penn got his 
 motto " Be true, be leal, be constant," on 
 St. Valentine s Day ; how the Earl of Kil- 
 dare kept St. Patrick s ; the wise men of 
 Gotham fool King John on the first of 
 April ; and so on through the months. 
 
 These stories out of history practise one 
 in the times they take him back to. 
 
 A Midshipman at Large. 
 
 By CHARLES R. TALBOT. i2mo, cloth, 
 
 $1.50. 
 
 An escapade of a bright young fellow 
 who " shipped " for a yacthing cruise in 
 vacation. 
 
 The story has nothing to do with the 
 question whether it pays to know one s 
 work and do it and " be," as the phrase 
 goes, " a gentleman " ; but, if the reader 
 chooses to think of them, he will find 
 plenty of stimulant. 
 
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