THE CAPTAIN SAID NOTHING, BUT HIS UPLIFTED HAND FELL 
 GENTLY UPON ROBBIE'S CURLY HEAD."-PAOK 40.
 
 THE 
 
 CAPTAIN'S BARGAIN 
 
 BY 
 
 JULIA McNAIR WRIGHT, 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE STORY OF RASMUS, OR THE MAKING OF A MAN"; 
 
 "A MADE MAN"; "THE DRAGON AND THE TEA-KETTLE"; "HANNAH, 
 
 ONE OF THE STRONG WOMEN"; "FIREBRANDS"; "NOTHING 
 
 TO DRINK"; "LIFE CRUISE OF CAPTAIN BESS ADAMS"; 
 
 "THE BEST FELLOW IN THE WORLD," ETC., ETC. 
 
 NEW YORKt 
 The National Temperance Society and Publication House, 
 
 58 READE STREET.
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1889, BY 
 THB NATIONAL TEMPERANCE SOCIETY AND PUBLICATION HOUSE. 
 
 EDWARD O. JENKINS' SONS, 
 
 PRINTERS AND ELECTROTYPERS, 
 
 o North William St., New York.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 A NUMBER of months ago, reading a French 
 book by an author whose works are sometimes 
 greatly good, and sometimes quite the re- 
 verse, I remarked in the narrative a happy turn 
 which I thought might be advantageously ap- 
 plied in a Temperance Story. The French 
 sketch was a Paris romance, not of Temper- 
 ance, but among its pleasant chords was one 
 whereon, as to a key-note, I set this history of 
 THE CAPTAIN'S BARGAIN. 
 
 The French tale will be no poorer, and mine 
 may have a more ample variation, for that tonic 
 caught drifting across the sea. 
 
 JULIA McNAiR WRIGHT. 
 
 (3) 
 
 2138878
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PACK 
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S INDISCRETION, 7 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 To Go, OR NOT TO Go ? 23 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 THE CAPTAIN'S BARGAIN, 39 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 THE SUMMER SUN SHINES, 55 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 THE ADVANTAGES OF LIVING WITH A PHILOSOPHER, 71 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 THE SUPERINTENDENT, 86 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 THE SCHOOLMASTER, 101 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 "MR. MURRAY MAKES AN OFFER," 122 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ROBERT COMES TO THE RESCUE 139 
 
 (5)
 
 6 Contents, 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 ROBERT PROVES HIMSELF A HERO 156 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 THE WOMAN WHO WENT ON A LONG JOURNEY, . .172 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 Vi ET ARMIS 19 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 MR. MURRAY BUILDS CARD-HOUSES 207 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " THE MAKING OF A YOUNG GENTLEMAN," . . . 223 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " A TOKEN OF MY TRUE LOVE," 240 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 MASTERS AND GOVERNORS 257 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 MR. MURRAY'S CARD-HOUSES TUMBLE DOWN, . . 275 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH, . . . . . 292 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 JUNE SUNSHINE, 309 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 MR. MURRAY BUILDS BETTER HOUSES, . . . 325
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S BARGAIN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE CAPTAIN'S INDISCRETION. 
 
 " ANOTHER glass, Captain ? " 
 
 " No, not another, thank you, Mr. Combe." 
 
 " What, not another ? Isn't the liquor good ? 
 Shall I mix you a julep now, or something hot, 
 with lemon, eh ? " 
 
 " No no more," said Captain Allen, eying 
 the tall bottle with desire. " The fact is, Mr. 
 Combe, I promised my wife and she is a 
 woman-with-a-head-on-her-shoulders that I 
 wouldn't touch above one glass before I sold 
 that lumber ; and what 'Zekiel Allen says he 
 sticks to, sure." 
 
 " Oh, but seems to me Mrs. Allen may be 
 drawing the reins rather tight eh, Captain ? " 
 
 " None too tight, after all," said the Captain 
 with a laugh. " She knows that if I had over 
 one glass, I'd as like as not give the lumber 
 
 (7)
 
 8 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 away, or sell it for less than the trees cost me 
 standing. I'm free, Mr. Combe, very free, after 
 two glasses." 
 
 If one might read the little drop of Mr. 
 Combe's shoulders and of the corners of his 
 mouth, possibly he had known that little pe- 
 culiarity in Captain Allen, and had considered 
 a few glasses of Old Rye a good investment as 
 he bargained with him. But now Captain Al- 
 len, having refreshed his mind with his promise 
 to his "'Liza," said briskly: "And so, Mr. 
 Combe, will you have the lumber or shall I go 
 round to Jenkins before train-time ? " 
 
 "Oh, I'll have the lumber," said Mr. Combe, 
 knowing that Jenkins, the rival builder, was 
 now" out on the street looking for the Captain. 
 
 " At the price laid down there ? " said the 
 Captain, pushing a long bill of various items 
 toward Mr. Combe. " No beating down. You 
 take it all?" 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Combe. " Delivered at 
 once." 
 
 " I'll begin sending it down to-morrow by 
 six," said the Captain joyfully, now feeling the 
 exhilaration of the builder's grog ; " or at five, 
 or at four, if you say so. Come up at three in 
 the morning if you like." 
 
 " Pshaw ! I can't get there before the train,
 
 The Captain s Indiscretion. 9 
 
 Captain," said Mr. Combe ; and, with the fear 
 of Jenkins before his eyes, he wrote at the bot- 
 tom of the long lumber bill, " Bought by Sam'l 
 Combe." " There now ! " 
 
 " All right," said the Captain, folding the 
 document and putting it into his pocket. "And 
 now I will have another glass." 
 
 Mr. Combe poured out a second glass and 
 put sugar therein. Then he prudently locked 
 up the bottle in the closet. Why waste Ja- 
 maica when the bargain was made ? 
 
 As Captain Allen sipped his liquor with evi- 
 dent keen relish, Mr. Combe said : 
 
 " Since your wife is so sharp about getting a 
 promise as to how many glasses you will take, I 
 wonder she does not try to make you swear off 
 altogether." 
 
 " She does she does," said the Captain, shak- 
 ing his big head. " But, you see, I won't do it. 
 I know too well what it would cost me. What- 
 ever 'Zekiel Allen promises that he sticks to, if 
 it kills him. Ask the county, they'll say Cap- 
 tain Allen is a man of his word. And I won't 
 give my word for tee-total, because I like a 
 good glass now and then first-rate. There ; 
 I'm sorry that one's finished not that I am or 
 ever mean to be a drunkard. I think too much 
 of 'Liza and the children for that. It's on their
 
 io The Captains Bargain. 
 
 account I made the promise about not drinking 
 over one glass before the bargain is finished. 
 But I'll not swear total abstainer. Oh, no ! 
 And, Mr. Combe, if you like, you can bring up 
 the rest of that bottle to-morrow, and we'll 
 drink to our good luck when the last of the 
 sticks are sent off." 
 
 Combe laughed. " All right ; perhaps after 
 a glass or two you'll throw me in an odd hun- 
 dred or so of scantling." 
 
 " You needn't build on that," said the Cap- 
 tain honestly ; " for 'Liza'll be there. Oh, she 
 is a woman for trade ! She made out that bill. 
 She measures all the lumber. She used to be 
 a school-ma'am. Oh, she is a woman-wit h-a- 
 head ! I don't know just how she does it, Mr. 
 Combe. I never could measure lumber myself ; 
 but she she just runs the rule here and there, 
 and then then she multiplies ! Or is it that 
 she divides ? No ; she she adds ! I vow I 
 can't tell which it is but she gets it right ! " 
 
 Mr. Combe laughed again as he opened the 
 door. The Jamaica was telling on the Captain, 
 but too late to do his entertainer any good. 
 
 Captain Allen was very easily affected by 
 liquor. His intoxication was always speedy, 
 brief, and of three stages. He was in the first 
 stage now the stage of exhilaration. In that
 
 The Captains Indiscretion. 1 1 
 
 stage it would be very hard to persuade the 
 Captain that he had not a million or its equiva- 
 lents in either pocket. It would be equally 
 hard to persuade him that it was not his mission 
 to lavish of his abundance on all his fellows. 
 Given two glasses, Captain Allen was a new 
 Don Quixote ; every broken-down steed was to 
 him a full-blooded charger; every windmill a 
 giant ; every village maid a Dulcinea to be de- 
 fended. He was now in what the French call 
 the state glorieux ; he forgot that he trod the 
 earth, and he marched with his head in the 
 clouds. Had not his poverty and the prudence 
 of 'Liza combined to keep his pockets empty, 
 Captain Allen would have scattered his earnings 
 right and left in such phases of feeling as the 
 present. 
 
 Now he took the road to the railroad station. 
 About him, in the waning light of the early 
 April afternoon, were the skeletons or half-cov- 
 ered frames of various houses rising under the 
 supervision of Combe or the rival Jenkins. For 
 this little town of Lacy was coming up on a 
 sudden boom. These houses which the work- 
 men were leaving for the night, aided the glow- 
 ing fantasies of Captain Allen's brain. " If 
 they'd only build a thousand houses, and I could 
 get out the lumber for all of them ha ! ha !
 
 12 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 I'd be rich as Jay Gould in no time. Ho ! ho ! 
 I'm no fool ! What will 'Liza say when she sees 
 this ! " and he slapped the pocket where the bill 
 of lumber rustled. " Sold ! Sold to the first 
 .nan ! Sold at the full price ! If I go on like 
 that I can pay off the mortgage on the old mill 
 and build me a house, and buy 'Liza a silk gown 
 and little Bop a watch when he is twenty -one ! " 
 
 Thus, emulating the " Maid with the Pail of 
 Milk" and the ''Glass Seller of Bagdad," Cap- 
 lain Allen strode toward the station, just at the 
 edge of the little town. But before he reached 
 the station, he saw on the roadside an excited 
 group, mostly women, and their exclamations 
 and questions mingled with the wild crying of 
 a child. 
 
 Captain Allen was a man extravagantly fond of 
 children, and, moreover, he was now in his state 
 of " Redresser General of all Grievances"; he 
 elbowed his way into the crowd. Sitting on a 
 boulder was a hatless, shoeless, dirty, ragged, and 
 very small child. He was crying stormily, furi- 
 ously ; as a child cries after long and painful re- 
 pression, after long terror and endurance, when 
 at last all barriers and restraints have given way, 
 and it yields completely to the force of its woe. 
 
 " Poor little thing ! " cried a woman, shrilly ; 
 " no wonder he cries. There he sat whenever
 
 The Cap fains Indiscretion. 13 
 
 I opened my door this morning still as a stone. 
 After an hour or so, I went and spoke to him. 
 He said his mammy had left h.im there, and 
 told him to wait. I took him some bread and 
 milk, and again I took him some cake ; and he 
 slept a bit. And there he's sat the blessed day, 
 afraid to move, waiting for the wretched v^man, 
 whoever she is, to come back." 
 
 " She won't come. Never fear. She'?; de- 
 serted him. She's been cute enough to get the 
 day's start and go by, before folks were up to 
 see her, the brute ! " 
 
 " Don't cry, my little man," said an old grand- 
 mother, " tell us your name. What's your naftv*, 
 dear ? " 
 
 " Wobbie." 
 
 " Oh, Robbie. And where do you live?" 
 
 " Nowhere!" 
 
 " Oh, yes, you do. Where did you come from, 
 tell us?" 
 
 " F'om nowhere," sobbed the child, breaking 
 forth into renewed wails. 
 
 " There, he knows nothing, or he is so scared 
 he has forgotten all he knows. Well, what's to 
 be done with him ? He can't sit here all night. 
 It's going to rain, too. Can't you take him in, 
 Mrs. Moss?" 
 
 " Me take him in ! " said Mrs. Moss, who
 
 14 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 evidently had not " been a schoolma'am," like 
 'Liza. "And if there is one thing Absalom 
 hates, it is the noise of a child ! " 
 
 " Yes, yes," said her neighbors, " she can't," 
 for the vile temper of her Absalom was well 
 known, but condoned, as for ten years he had 
 been paralyzed from a railroad accident. 
 
 " Couldn't you see to him a bit, Mrs. Mooney ? " 
 
 "The Saints forbid!" cried Mrs. Mooney. 
 41 I've raised eight, and now I live with my 
 daughter and she has six, and they're more than 
 she can handle, sure." 
 
 " That's true," said a big matron. " Every- 
 body has got more than they can do for, of chil- 
 dren. I wonder that they will keep coming 
 when there's no room for 'em." And she eyed 
 the weeping " Wobbie " with reprobation, as a 
 sample of that legion of children which will in- 
 sist on crowding into an over-peopled world. 
 
 " Perhaps his mother will come back for him, 
 after all." 
 
 " Not she," cried the chorus. " She's deserted 
 him, the tramp !" 
 
 " Mr. Beasely, don't you want him, you've 
 not chick or child ?" 
 
 "No; and no one to mend my own stock- 
 ings, let alone his," quoth Mr. Beasely, who was 
 a bachelor.
 
 The Captains Indiscretion. 15 
 
 "What's the row?" demanded Luke Martin, 
 the sole policeman of the place, who had been 
 summoned. 
 
 The women explained vociferously. 
 
 "Well, I suppose I must take him to the sta- 
 tion-house"- thus designating a ten-by-twelve 
 room behind the post-office "and in the morn- 
 ing, if he's not called for, hand him over to the 
 poor master." 
 
 " You've no right to hand him over to the 
 poormaster," said a hard-faced man. " Why 
 should our county be burdened with the like of 
 him ? If you take in all the strays that are left 
 here, we'll soon have to pay fifty cents tax on 
 the dollar. He's not our poor. Send him where 
 he came from." 
 
 " But we don't know where he came from." 
 
 " You've no right to burden our county, I 
 say!" 
 
 " Oh, Sam Hastings ! Burden ! One little 
 bit of a boy ! " 
 
 " Yes, Mrs. Moss. Burden ! It's a prece- 
 dent. We don't want no such precedents. Our 
 taxes is heavy enough now, and too heavy." 
 
 " Arrah, you don't pay any of 'em," said Mrs. 
 Mooney. 
 
 Meanwhile the child had stopped crying 
 stopped from exhaustion, and to take breath.
 
 1 6 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " Come on, sonny," said the big constable, 
 " you can't sit here." 
 
 But the child was frightened nearly into con- 
 vulsions at the touch of this big, bluff man 
 with the thick stick. He burst into renewed 
 shrieks, and clung to the petticoat of the near- 
 est woman. 
 
 " Can't some of you quiet him a little ? " said 
 the poor constable. " I don't want to drag 
 him off yelling like that. People will think 
 I'm trying to cut his throat." 
 
 The child seemed to regard this as a threat. 
 He redoubled his shrieks. While the women 
 said, " There, there ; don't, my dear ; don't take 
 on so." " He won't hurt you." "Go with the 
 nice man." " He'll give you a candy, sonny." 
 " Here, dear, hush ; here is a penny for you." 
 "There's a good boy." 
 
 Another lull ; but for breath, not because 
 comforted. 
 
 '" Well," said the reluctant constable, " the 
 poorhouse is the only place, since none of you 
 wants him." 
 
 " I want him." 
 
 It was Captain 'Zekiel. 
 
 He pushed near the child and got down on 
 his knees. He wiped the tear-drenched face 
 with his big bandanna. He wooed the child
 
 The Captains Indiscretion. 17 
 
 with soft words. " There, my little man ! Cap'n 
 Allen likes little boys. Come with me, and you 
 shall have some pie and a bird and a pussy cat, 
 and a baby to play with ! 'Zekiel Allen won't 
 see a little chap sent to the poorhouse." 
 
 " Oh, the good man ! " " Aye, that's right ! " 
 " Heaven be your bed ! " " The Lord will re- 
 ward you ! " " Take him ! " Thus " the chorus 
 of the women." 
 
 " Do you mean you'll take the child, mister ? 
 I don't remember your " 
 
 " Oh, it's Captain Allen from Lai's Moun- 
 tain," cried Mrs. Mooney. " We know him 
 Captain 'Zekiel." 
 
 "And you really mean to take the child?" 
 said the constable. 
 
 " Certain, why not ? I've got a mill up near 
 the mountain, and I can sell my lumber for any 
 price I name. I've got a wife with-a-head-on- 
 her-shoulders, and I've got two youngsters, and 
 I'm not one of those to say there's too many 
 children in the world. I like children. I'd as 
 lief do for a hundred ! Give me the little chap, 
 I'll make a man of him. I'll make him Gov'nor 
 or President, or a barge captain, or or some- 
 thing!" 
 
 The lost infant, standing very short and small 
 beside Captain 'Zekiel's six feet four inches,
 
 1 8 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 locked one small hand tight in the big palm of his 
 protector, and with the other gripped fast hold 
 of the baggy knee of the Captain's trousers. 
 
 " I'll just take down your name and address, 
 so I can send to you in case the mother comes 
 back," said the relieved constable, taking out a 
 note-book. 
 
 " She won't come ! " " Never hear of her 
 again ! " " So much the better ! " " The boy's 
 in luck!" "Oh, the good man!" "That's 
 what it is to be generous!" "Oh, the kind 
 heart ! " Amid this chant the crowd broke up, 
 and Captain 'Zekiel and his waif marched hur- 
 riedly to the station. There was only one 
 grimy little car to the engine. The distance to 
 be travelled was only ten miles. One passen- 
 ger, one smoky lamp, a conductor who was also 
 brakeman nightfall ! These were Captain 
 'Zekiel's surroundings. The admiring crowd 
 had fallen away from him ; the inspiring " cho- 
 rus of the women " no longer rung in his ears. 
 And the mental barometer of Captain 'Zekiel 
 was falling very fast. His drunkenness had al- 
 ways three stages the second stage was sure to 
 be one of timidity, anxiety, apprehension. Into 
 this second stage he was now drifting out of 
 his brief period of glory and self-sufficiency. 
 He was going home to a very poor home to
 
 The Captains Indiscretion. 19 
 
 a wife and two children ; and the woman-with- 
 a-head-on-her-shoulders might make serious ob- 
 jections to having a new child cast upon her 
 cares. It was borne in on the Captain's failing 
 heart that he had reckoned without his hostess. 
 What should he do what should he do ? How 
 could he encounter the redoubtable 'Liza? 
 What was likely to occur he knew well for 
 this was not the first time the Captain had been 
 guilty of such an indiscretion. 
 
 Lower, lower, lower sank the Captain's feel- 
 ings ; down, down, down into the very depths 
 went the lately jubilant, boastful Captain. 
 
 And the car stopped. He must walk a mile 
 to reach home. The rain was falling. The 
 night had come. The mountain road was rutty 
 and muddy. How this poor uncomplaining 
 mite, clinging to his hand, lagged and stumbled 
 and dragged ! At last the child's feet merely 
 slid along the way as the remorseful Captain 
 pulled him forward. Then Captain 'Zekiel 
 picked him up to his broad breast, and the little 
 fellow locked a pair of confiding arms around 
 the man's horny neck, and clung to him for 
 shelter from the storm,, The Captain somehow 
 revived a little at that clasp. 
 
 Home ! The Captain lived in two rooms at 
 the bottom of the rickety old mill. The light
 
 2O The Captains Bargain. 
 
 shone from the uncurtained window. 'Liza was 
 frying ham for tea. The Captain put the boy 
 down, opened the door, and as 'Liza, engrossed 
 with her cooking, did not turn round, he poli- 
 ticly addressed her on a pleasing theme. 
 
 " 'Liza, I sold the lumber the hull bill of it 
 for just the price you set, 'Liza just the price. 
 It's to go down to-morrow, 'Liza." 
 
 " All right," said the household priestess, bent 
 over her tripod, and pursuing her incantations 
 with the dredging-box. The smoke of the ham, 
 the steam of the tea-kettle rose up about her. 
 She was a small, dark, middle-aged woman. 
 
 " Your tea smells dreadful good, 'Liza 
 
 " What a nice place it am ! " piped the waif from 
 behind the sheltering legs of the colossal Captain. 
 
 "What's that?" cried Mrs. 'Liza. 
 
 It was not Bop, the infant son of the home ; 
 he slept. It was not Pink ; she had for an hour 
 been hanging to the maternal skirts, " cross 
 enough to kill," as Mrs. 'Liza said. That voice 
 of silvery satisfaction ! Mrs. 'Liza whirled 
 about. Looking around the Captain's left leg 
 lo ! a pair of big brown eyes in a very dirty 
 face, a mop of very tangled brown curls, a slim, 
 eager, shrinking, tiny, ragged figure. 
 
 " What's that ? " demanded the Pythoness. 
 
 " It's a little a boy I picked up," faltered
 
 The Captains Indiscretion. 21 
 
 the Captain, and he passed instanter into the 
 third stage of his drunkenness remorse. In 
 this stage he was always burdened with remorse, 
 lust for having ever been born, and then for 
 everything he had ever done since he was born. 
 
 " A boy you picked up ! 'Zekiel Allen ! Have 
 you done that again ? 'Zekiel, you've been 
 drinking! " 
 
 The Captain took a chair in a corner. 
 
 " I won't keep him, mind ! Carry him straight 
 back where you got him from. That's my last 
 word." 
 
 The Captain hid his face in his hands. He 
 must take him back ! The poor, dear little 
 boy ! Consign the forlorn babe to the horrors 
 of a county poorhouse ! And he had promised 
 to keep him. He had boasted. He had been 
 praised by all the women. And he must go 
 back to the constable and say, " My wife won't 
 let me keep him." Oh dear, oh dear! And 
 yet, the Captain had a sense of justice. Not 
 he, but 'Liza must cook, make, wash, mend, toil 
 for this waif if he stayed. And if she wouldn't, 
 well she wouldn't. The Captain groaned. 
 
 " Take him away, I tell you ! " cried the angry 
 'Liza, brandishing the long meat-fork, and ad- 
 vancing on the cowed Captain. " As if I 
 hadn't enough on my hands ! And we as poor
 
 22 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 as Job's turkey, and may have a dozen of our 
 own ; who knows ! Take him off ! " 
 
 " Yes, 'Liza," said the Captain, " yes, only 
 there isn't another train to-night, you know. 
 And it's raining, 'Liza, and it's seven o'clock, 
 and oh dear ' 
 
 " I suppose he's got to stay all night," said 
 'Liza, vvrathfully ; " but in the morning he goes 
 packing. I'd like to know if we've got to take 
 in every stray dog, and cat, and boy that you 
 cast your eye on, 'Zekiel Allen ? I never saw 
 such a man in all my born days ! One never 
 knows what you'll do, when you've been drink- 
 ing. Poor as we are, too ! To-morrow morn- 
 ing, bright and early, 'Zekiel, mind." 
 
 " Yes, 'Liza," said 'Zekiel, meekly. 
 
 Meanwhile the child, drawn by the fragrance 
 of the food and the delicious warmth of the 
 stove, had made cautious advances into the 
 room, and, with a prudence beyond his years, 
 had obliterated himself, so far as possible, be- 
 hind the stove. His big brown eyes gazed upon 
 the Captain and the irate 'Liza. Did he under- 
 stand the sentence pronounced against him ? 
 Mistress Allen whisked tea, potatoes, and ham 
 upon the board. " Well, come to supper ; come 
 along, you boy ! We can give you a meal, I sup- 
 pose. 'Zekiel Allen, you have made a bargain ! "
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 TO GO, OR NOT TO GO I THAT IS THE QUESTION. 
 
 MISTRESS 'LizA put Pink into a high-chair, 
 placed her at the table, and tied a bib under her 
 chin. All 'Liza's motions were quick and nerv- 
 ous ; now their energy was intensified by wrath. 
 She bounced the waif into another high-chair, 
 and tied a bib under his chin. Surely this was 
 not out of deference to his dirty clothes. Prob- 
 ably it was out of deference to her own feel- 
 ings, and her table-cloth. 
 
 The door opened and a boy, who made an 
 amazing amount of noise in walking, came in 
 and sat down by Captain 'Zekiel, at the end of 
 the table. The Captain's remorse continued ; 
 indeed, it deepened. He repented of every 
 mouthful of food, even as he ate it. 
 
 Pink, mollified by the sight of supper, leaned 
 across the table-corner which separated her from 
 her little guest, set her small white teeth to- 
 gether, and opening her red lips in a grin, 
 exhibited, as with pride, the double, gleaming 
 row. The boy smiled at her benignly. Why 
 should he not smile ? Mrs. 'Liza had heaped 
 
 (23)
 
 24 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 his plate liberally with potatoes and gravy. 
 Presently Pink filled a spoon from her own 
 plate, and, leaning over, thrust it into the stran- 
 ger's mouth, This was hospitality. Then, in- 
 stantly, the changeful maid lifted herself in her 
 chair, and gave " Wobbie " a resounding whack 
 on the head. He winked back the tears like 
 a little hero, and only nodded at her. What 
 was a blow with a pewter spoon, to a boy eat- 
 ing all he wanted of hot potatoes ? Then Pink, 
 applying herself to her little mug of milk, 
 drained it to the last drop, and burst into a loud 
 wail for more. At once the little visitor held 
 out his own mug to her with both his small, 
 grimy hands saying, " Tate mine." Pink, un- 
 hesitant, took it all. It was freely given. Never 
 until now had the boy had before him, at one 
 meal, meajt and potatoes, gravy, bread, butter, 
 and milk. He could spare the milk. Supper 
 over, the Captain and the noisily-walking boy 
 took a lantern and went out. " Wobbie " again 
 shrunk behind the stove. He had a vague feel- 
 ing that if Mrs. 'Liza saw too much of him she 
 might put him out in the rain. Heretofore 
 weather had never offered any restraint to those 
 who wished to thrust him out of doors. 
 
 The house-mother undressed Pink and put 
 her to bed in the next room. It looked a won-
 
 To Go, or not to Go. 25 
 
 derful room to Robbie. It had a bed, a crib, 
 and a trundle-bed, all of home manufacture ; 
 two great, bright, braided mats on the floor 
 white curtains at the window ; two or three gay 
 prints on the wall, and a little table with a red 
 cover. What a paradise ! 
 
 Madame 'Liza next washed her tea-dishes, set 
 bread-sponge, and made her kitchen tidy. Mean- 
 while the Captain returned and again sat deso- 
 late in the corner. Then Mrs. 'Liza took a 
 little tin tub, put plenty of hot water therein, 
 laid a sponge, a crash towel, a square of brown 
 soap, and a bottle of ammonia on a chair, and, 
 reaching in behind the stove for Robbie, said, 
 " Now I'll make you clean if you're going to 
 sleep in my trundle-bed." 
 
 She stripped off his one garment, a gray 
 flannel "confection" of pants and' waist, and 
 plumped him into the tub of water. Whatever 
 this dame did she did thoroughly, especially in 
 the cleaning line. She administered soap and 
 ammonia with an unsparing hand; she rubbed, 
 she scoured, she rinsed, she polished with the 
 crash towel. The soap-suds went into Robbie's 
 eyes, mouth, and ears. Well, what if it did ? 
 He set his lips together, squeezed his eyelids 
 tight shut, held his breath, and let her scrub, 
 The water was lovely warm, the soapy sponge
 
 26 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 was soft ; unconsciously to himself something 
 in his nature seemed responsive to this cleansing 
 process. As Mrs. 'Liza scoured away the grime, 
 the short hazy horror of his past seemed to fall 
 away from him, and he was a new boy in a new 
 world. 
 
 "There! Now for your head!" said Mrs. 
 'Liza. 
 
 She stood him up in the tub, braced against 
 her knees. The little man vaguely felt as if his 
 head had already had a full share of the scour- 
 ing, but he uttered no remonstrance. Ammonia 
 made his scalp burn, his eyes rain silent tears, 
 his breath vanish utterly and then the combs ! 
 A remorseless coarse comb, a tenfold remorse- 
 less fine comb ! Mrs. 'Liza seemed to forget 
 that his head was any more sensitive than a 
 croquet-ball. She combed up, down, forward, 
 backward, sidewise. Her victim was dumb as 
 an Indian suffering torture. He shut his eyes 
 tight, doubled up his little fists into two red 
 balls, thrust his elbows in admonitory fashion 
 into his own ribs, and let her comb. Had he 
 been learned in Latin he might have said to 
 himself, " O passi graviora ! Deus dabit finem, 
 his malis quoque." As it was, no doubt he re- 
 flected that no amount of combing was so bad 
 as to be seized ruthlessly by a handful of curls,
 
 To Go, or not to Go. 27 
 
 and have your head knocked against the wall ; 
 or to be given a fling and sent reeling across a 
 room to hit your head on the edge of a table, 
 and raise a big lump to last for a week ; nor was 
 standing to be combed half as bad as to cower 
 shivering and trembling under a bed and watch 
 a drunken man and a drunken woman throwing 
 bottles, tongs, coals, or chairs at each other. All 
 these had been of the varied experiences of 
 " Wobbie's " brief sojourn here below. What, 
 he and we ask, was the most vigorous combing 
 in comparison ? Besides, there was the stove 
 a beautiful shining stove, with the fire twinkling 
 through two isinglass doors. A stove all warm 
 and clean was more than a treat to a little man 
 in April who had been uninterruptedly cold since 
 last October. Robbie basked before the stove. 
 It is true he might have baked as well as basked 
 but for the happy accident that Dame 'Liza 
 turned him round now and again in the exigen- 
 cies of combing. 
 
 Finally: "Now you're clean!" said Mrs. 
 'Liza. She lifted him to her lap, wiped his 
 feet, and stood him on the floor before her. 
 The heat, the scrubbing, the rubbing, had made 
 all his little naked body pink as a rose from head 
 to heel. His clean wet hair, after the last passage 
 through it of the comb, had divided into great
 
 28 The Cap tarns Bargain. 
 
 dark curls that fell over his shoulders. He looked 
 tranquilly at his genius, with large, brown, stead- 
 fast, sleepy eyes. He was cherubic. 
 
 Mrs. 'Liza went to a blue chest, and took out 
 a new garment of unbleached cotton. " I made 
 it," she said, addressing herself to the room in 
 general " for Pink, with allowances for grow- 
 ing I didn't think a little beggar would get 
 the first wear of it." Then she dropped the 
 garment over his head, pulled his arms into the 
 sleeves, and buttoned it about his neck. The 
 little beggar in this straight white array, was 
 more angelic than ever. It is written of old, 
 " Some have entertained angels unawares." 
 Then Mrs. 'Liza led her beggar to the bedroom, 
 his little feet pattering obediently in time with 
 her own hasty tread. As Bop had pre-emption 
 rights to the front of the trundle-bed, she lifted 
 the beggar in behind him. Bop, feeling some- 
 thing warm and soft slipping in beside him, 
 asserted his ownership, by kicking out a fat leg, 
 and driving his bed-fellow well against the wall, 
 then turning on his back and striking a fat fist 
 into Robbie's eye. But what did that matter ? 
 Robbie's eyes were already closing. What were 
 a few kicks and punches compared to a delicious, 
 clean, soft, warm bed ? A wonderful feeling of 
 general well-being made up of cleanness, warm-
 
 To Go, or not to Go. 29 
 
 ness, softness, satiety, absorbed him. Sweet 
 dreams came thronging to bear him away into 
 slumber-land. 
 
 Mrs. 'Liza, a fond mother, bent to kiss the 
 red head of Captain 'Zekiel's youngest image. 
 Was it only one of Robbie's dreams, that for 
 the first time in his experience a hand lingered 
 for an instant in maternal touch on his head ? 
 
 Mrs. 'Liza went back to her kitchen. She 
 poured more hot water into the little tub, washed 
 the waif's forlorn suit, and hung it close to the 
 fire to dry. Then, without a word to her Cap- 
 tain, she sat down to darn stockings. 
 
 Meanwhile the Captain was watching all these 
 proceedings out of the corner of his eye. There 
 had been similar scenes once before. 
 
 The last stage of his intoxication had passed ; 
 'Zekiel was himself again. He had expected 
 not merely a domestic storm, but a tornado of 
 the fiercest description. It had been violent, 
 but brief, and its last forces had been spent in 
 combing that curly head. The Captain seeing the 
 stray infant's heroic conduct while being washed 
 and combed, his genial manners to Pink, and 
 his wisdom in hiding behind the stove, had told 
 himself that "the boy was a reg'lar little brick." 
 And then, how beautiful he was ! Even dot- 
 ing parents admitted that the Captain's Bop was
 
 30 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 homely. Pink was a pretty child, but of diabol- 
 ical disposition but this boy ! what a straight, 
 well-knit little figure ! What great brown eyes, 
 what curls ! What a skin, like cream ! What 
 a smile ! An infinite longing to own him, filled 
 the soul of the child-loving Captain Allen. 
 Brought up and living all his life in the wooded 
 silence of the mountain-side, the Captain was 
 filled with that intense unspoken beauty-wor- 
 ship which made the herdsmen and hunters of 
 ancient Greece see demi-gods, fauns, nymphs, 
 dryads in the woods and streams. Oh, this 
 beautiful child, could he yield him up to the 
 desolation of the county poorhouse, where tooth- 
 less old paupers mumbled, and a stray idiot and 
 lunatic or two, mouthed and gibbered ? Could 
 he go back to the admiring chorus of the wom- 
 en, the constable, and say, " Here's the boy ; 
 my wife won't have him" ? Yet Mrs. 'Liza, by 
 virtue of that head-on-her-shoulders, was the 
 true head of the house ; moreover, they were 
 very poor, and Mrs. 'Liza was very hard worked, 
 and well what cannot be gained by fighting, 
 may sometimes be gained by waiting so the 
 Captain went to bed. 
 
 By five next morning, the Captain called 
 "the Hands," and a great bustle began, getting 
 out the lumber for Mr. Combe. " Allen's
 
 To Go, or not to Go. 31 
 
 Mill," an ancient, tumble-down structure, with 
 a huge under-shot wheel, stood on the side of 
 a mountain stream never too dry to drive the 
 saw-mill, but now, full-flushed with the breaking 
 up of the mountain snows and the spring rains, a 
 wide swift creek, hurrying into the Schuylkill, and 
 capable of carrying down rafts. Therefore, Cap- 
 tain 'Zekiel and his " Hands," were finishing mak- 
 ing rafts of stout bark-covered logs for underpin- 
 ning, and on these the other lumber was to be 
 loaded. Then a tiller being rigged, the " Hands" 
 and Mr. Combe would navigate one raft the nine 
 miles of waterway to Lacy, and Captain 'Zekiel 
 would take down the other. The Captain worked 
 in a fury of zeal. He meant to leave no time for 
 'Liza to remonstrate with him about the stray 
 boy, or to repeat her orders to carry him off on 
 the first raft. The Captain was wont to pre- 
 pare himself for unusual labors by a glass of Old 
 Rye, but this morning it would not be well to 
 recall to 'Liza, by drinking, his last evening's 
 indiscretion. Moreover, if there was one thing 
 above another that made that good woman 
 wrathful, it was to see the Captain indulging 
 in Old Rye. Therefore, unaided by his usual 
 fortifier, the big Captain worked like a Hercules. 
 He had no time to eat ; he snatched his bread 
 and bacon, and ate as he rolled logs over the
 
 32 The Captain s Bargain. 
 
 banks by mighty kicks. Eliza, with the baby 
 over one arm, and the bill of the lumber in her 
 right hand, came out to see that Mr. Combe got 
 what he paid for, and no more. 
 
 The Captain worked. " The Hands" worked. 
 Mr. Combe arrived and he worked. Mrs. 'Liza 
 made coffee and brought it out to them. The 
 great yellow boards were piled high on the rafts. 
 The Captain wrought prodigies. He talked 
 for 'Liza's benefit. " If you'll build three or 
 four hotels and stores at Lacy, and get the lum- 
 ber of me, Mr. Combe, I think of getting more 
 machinery here in the mill. My wife thinks if 
 we made shingles now things are looking up 
 in Lacy, Mr. Combe, and all over the county." 
 
 " So they are. I brought the Jamaica, Cap- 
 tain ; will you have a glass to help you along?" 
 
 The Captain's mouth watered, but there was 
 'Liza ! 
 
 " No, thankee ; no, not any. Tears to me 
 I'm working a leetle better without it." 
 
 Presently Mrs. 'Liza went into the house. 
 The Captain trembled. Now she was getting 
 the boy ready to go off on the raft. She came 
 out ; the Captain was passing ; she beckoned 
 him to the bedroom window. All was over. 
 She was about to bid him carry off his bad 
 Bargain. He approached slowly ; looked in as
 
 To Go, or not to Go. 33 
 
 'Liza's finger directed. On the pillow of the 
 trundle-bed sat Pink in her night-gown. In one 
 hand she held a wooden horse, trophy of her 
 father's jack-knife ; in the other a rag-doll, tri- 
 umph of her mother's needle. On his knees 
 before her a veritable copy of the Reynolds' 
 " Little Samuel," though the Captain and 'Liza 
 did not know it was the boy. One arm held 
 securely a blue earthen bowl of bread and milk, 
 left on the table for Pink's breakfast ; the other 
 hand was busy conveying loaded spoonfuls of 
 this refreshment to Pink's mouth. Pink held 
 her mouth wide as a young robin, and the boy, 
 neat-handed, put the spoon safely within the 
 yawning rosy cavity. Now and then Pink gra- 
 ciously turned a spoonful to his mouth. The 
 Captain and 'Liza laughed and went away. 
 Later both children were dressed and out play- 
 ing. Pink hurt her finger on a board, and her 
 ready shriek arose. 
 
 " Don't ky, boy ! " called out Robbie's sil- 
 very voice as he ran up, holding his curly head 
 low. " Don't ky ; pull my hair if you like ; 
 then you'll laugh." 
 
 Pink pulled with a will and laughed. 
 
 " Now you feel nice, boy," said the stranger. 
 
 " Ain't boy am gell," said Pink. 
 
 " Yes ; now you're glad, gell," said her guest
 
 34 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 Then the waif approached " the Hands " occu- 
 pied in taking a bit of luncheon. Though spoken 
 of in the plural, " the Hands" was but one, a boy 
 of fifteen not even a whole boy, thought Robbie, 
 only a piece of a boy. He had only one leg. 
 A wooden leg of domestic make was firmly 
 strapped to the stump of the missing left leg ; 
 and, as if to balance this deficiency, "the 
 Hands" had also lost his right eye. Probably 
 in courtesy to his having two hands, and also 
 because every mill should need and have more 
 than one workman, the Captain spoke of his 
 fragmentary coadjutor as " the Hands." 
 
 Robbie surveyed this boy with interest. " Is 
 you going to work all day ? " 
 
 " No ; I'm going down to the town on the 
 raft." 
 
 " Did the lady sended you away ?" asked Rob- 
 bie in awed tones. 
 
 " Oh, no ; I'm coming back." 
 
 " Does the lady let you stay ?" 
 
 " All right ; she does." 
 
 " Does the lady like you ?" 
 
 " The Hands " laughed. Mrs. 'Liza had heard. 
 She did not like the waif less for calling her 
 " the lady." 
 
 The rafts were made and loaded. All was 
 ready for a start. Mrs. 'Liza and the children
 
 To Go, or not to Go. 35 
 
 were nowhere to be seen. The Captain could 
 fly unnoticed, possibly. But that hardly seemed 
 fair to 'Liza. With reluctant steps he ap- 
 proached the kitchen-door. His wife was sew- 
 ing. Bop sat on the floor. " Wobbie " had 
 organized a play. " Me an' you gell is bears. 
 We'll run at him on our knees. We'll bark ow, 
 ow, ow, ow, only not too loud, gell, to make 
 him ky. Come on, gell ow, o\v, ow ! " Like 
 the classic Bottom, Wobbie roared as gently as 
 any sucking dove. 
 
 "'Liza," said the Captain faintly, "we're 
 going down." 
 
 "All right," said 'Liza, never lifting her 
 eyes. 
 
 " You you don't want to send for anything, 
 'Liza?" 
 
 " No," said the dame calmly. 
 
 " I'll 'Liza I'll get back by seven." 
 
 "" You won't if you don't hurry off," said 'Liza. 
 
 The Captain went off stupefied. Well, he 
 had given her a fair chance. The rafts started. 
 As they got well into mid-stream, Captain 'Zekiel 
 saw his family on the bank watching. His wife 
 had the baby in her arms. " Wobbie " held 
 Pink's hand. The rafts were well made and 
 well piled up. There was a long oar fitted at 
 both ends of each. Mr. Combe and " the Hands "
 
 36 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 manipulated the first raft. 'Zekiel alone proudly 
 managed the second. 
 
 When the rafts reached Lacy, almost the first 
 person Captain 'Zekiel saw was the constable. 
 His heart fell. The wretched mother had come 
 back to claim that boy ! " She's found ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " What, the tramp woman, that left the young 
 one ? You'd better believe she ain't. She'll 
 never turn. up. You've got the boy on your 
 hands, sure enough, Cap'n ; and everybody in 
 Lacy is talking how good it is of you, too." 
 
 Oh, suppose he had brought the boy back ! 
 
 " Have a glass, Cap'n, before you start for the 
 train ?" asked Mr. Combe, for politeness' sake. 
 
 Ah, it would not do to anger 'Liza by going 
 home in any one of his three abnormal states. 
 She would send the boy away then sure, and 
 every one was saying how good he was, too ! 
 Besides, suppose in the ttat glorieux he should 
 pick up another boy ! 
 
 "No, thank you," said Captain Allen, and 
 went home, without the taint of Jamaica, to his 
 household. There were no storms that night, 
 
 o ' 
 
 and Pink was not fretting. The boy in a cor- 
 ner was building cob-houses for her to knock 
 over. Mistress Allen said, " I have never had 
 such a day's peace with Pink since she was born."
 
 To Go, or not to Go. 37 
 
 While Pink was being put to bed, the waif 
 went and climbed on Captain Allen's knee, and 
 sat with his head leaning on the good man's 
 broad breast. Captain Allen was not in the 
 corner that night ; he was not full of remorse ; 
 he sat by the stove and whistled " Blue Bonnets 
 Over the Border." 
 
 The next day and the next passed, and no 
 word was said about the boy. But the position 
 was becoming strained ; there was not that free- 
 dom of intercourse between the Captain and his 
 'Liza which is pleasing in the conjugal relation. 
 Topics of conversation were scarce between 
 them. The Captain felt that the " affair Wob- 
 bie" must be definitely settled. He took his 
 courage in his hands. " 'Liza, I'm going down 
 to Lacy to get an order this afternoon. Are 
 you resolved that I shall send this little man to 
 the poorhouse ?" 
 
 Pink at the word flung herself headlong on the 
 floor, and, whirling her legs and arms like the fans 
 of a wind-mill, shrieked at the top of her lungs. 
 The alarmed Bop joined the psean; Babel reigned. 
 The little man knew that his fate wavered in 
 the balance. By one of those divine instincts 
 of childhood, he cast himself, not upon the 
 Captain, but rushed, white with terror, to lay 
 hold on the skirts of 'Liza. The Captain bowed
 
 38 The Captain 's Bargain. 
 
 his head, as a criminal before the judge with the 
 black cap. The hour of 'Liza's triumph had 
 come ! Blessed be the conqueror who knows 
 how to administer a victory. 
 
 " The boy may stay so long as you, 'Zekiel, 
 don't drink a drop, and you, Pink, don't have 
 another tantrum." 
 
 These were the words of Eliza.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 THE CAPTAIN'S BARGAIN. 
 
 IN 1697 the Peace of Ryswick put an end to 
 war between England and France. Nine times 
 has happy Utrecht seen the peace of Europe 
 concluded within her walls, albeit often for too 
 brief a space. The Peace of Amiens held out 
 for a year false hopes of calm to the great 
 Powers. The first Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle 
 settled the question of the possession of the 
 Netherlands ; the second Peace signed in that 
 Rhenish city seated Maria Theresa on an im- 
 perial throne. The " Holy Alliance " of em- 
 perors at Vienna dictated terms to astonished 
 France, suddenly bereaved of her Bonapartes. 
 By the Peace of Westphalia Sweden reached 
 the dignity of a State of the Empire. Side by 
 side with these famous treaties we chronicle 
 that of Lai's Mountain, whereof Mistress Eliza 
 Allen laid down the terms. Having formulated 
 these conditions which were likely to secure her 
 future domestic peace, the good woman picked 
 
 (39)
 
 4O The Captains Bargain. 
 
 up her sewing and sat down by the window, mildly 
 triumphant. The belligerents, Captain 'Zekiel 
 and Pink, each laid hold on that disputed ter- 
 ritory, Robbie, and left the kitchen. They went 
 around the corner of the living-rooms, and be- 
 low the mill, among the uninclosed underpin- 
 nings. Here, standing among the debris of 
 many years, rusty tin, broken pottery, rotting 
 chips, and mouldy shoes, they could look out 
 upon the great tireless wheel, slowly revolving, 
 its moss-green buckets ever coming up dripping 
 from the mountain stream, the slant western 
 sunshine making rainbows of the falling drops. 
 
 Beyond the glistening wet wheel was the 
 wooded further bank where birds built in the 
 thick trees and pink crane's-bill and snowy bath- 
 flowers leaned forth from the bracken and 
 arum. 
 
 Captain Allen reached up among the dank, 
 cobwebby rafters and took out a large clear-glass 
 bottle. His strong arm described two or three 
 great circles high above his head ; then a crash 
 mingled with the monotonous jar of the wheel 
 and the rush of the waters, and certain large 
 pieces of broken glass lay among the stones in 
 the bed of the stream. The Captain said noth- 
 ing, but his uplifted hand fell gently upon Rob- 
 bie's curly head and lay there in the fashion of
 
 The Captains Bargain. 41 
 
 making a covenant. It was Pink's sweet, shrill 
 voice that rose in speech " Pink is apitty gell ! 
 Pink don't have no tantums ! No !" 
 
 But though all was thus satisfactorily con- 
 cluded at the mill, the neighborhood took up 
 the matter, and the neighborhood was a unit 
 against Captain 'Zekiel and for Mistress 'Liza. 
 " What did Captain Allen mean bringing 
 home stray children in that style for his poor 
 wife .to worry over? Just like the whole Allen 
 race, always too generous to be just. And they 
 so poor ! loaded with mortgages of which they 
 could scarcely pay the interest. And no house 
 to live in, only two rooms under the mill. And 
 poor Eliza so overworked, and at her wit's end 
 to keep things decent. It was fair robbery of 
 
 the children they had already, and " The 
 
 matrons held up their hands and raised their 
 eyes in unspeakable reprobation of the Captain's 
 reckless conduct. 
 
 The mentor and chief authority of the 
 sparsely settled school district where stood Cap- 
 tain Allen's hereditary saw-mill was the school- 
 master. A grave, elderly, gentle, studious man, 
 full of sympathy and empty of ambitions, he 
 was content to live year after year among these 
 simple folk, and now that more than two dec- 
 ades of his sway had gone by, he advised and
 
 42 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 instructed these mature married people in their 
 difficulties, financial and domestic, just as he 
 had advised and instructed them concerning 
 compound addition, geographic boundaries, or 
 up -strokes and down - strokes in penmanship 
 when they sat on the blue benches of the old 
 school-house. 
 
 The schoolmaster boarded with Deacon Britt, 
 the magnate of the district, and Captain Allen 
 had no sharper censors than Deacon and Mrs. 
 Britt. Therefore it was borne in on the mind 
 of the schoolmaster that he should pay a visit 
 to the mill. It might be in some sort a pastoral 
 visit. There was no church within seven or 
 eight miles. The pastors of several denomina- 
 tions came up in turn, one Sabbath afternoon 
 in a month, and held service in the school-house. 
 When there was a fifth Sabbath in the month, 
 the schoolmaster had a service. His was always 
 a temperance meeting, and Captain Allen had 
 been wont to feel and to say that the "school- 
 master was a good man, but going a leetle far- 
 ther than was required of him." 
 
 The schoolmaster found Mrs. 'Liza busy. She 
 had ripped up a pair of the Captain's out-worn 
 trousers, and the four pieces were laid out be- 
 fore her on the long kitchen-table, while she 
 stood regarding them like the Fate Atropos,
 
 The Captains Bargain. 43 
 
 with suspended shears. The schoolmaster was 
 not a man of circumlocutions, and he presently 
 introduced his theme. 
 
 " I hear the Captain has picked up another 
 little boy. That must be very inconvenient for 
 you, Mrs. Allen, two besides your own." 
 
 " It appears to fit in very well just now," said 
 'Liza, with a dry laugh, regarding her work, as 
 a general the plan of a battle-field. "Jerry, 
 having only one leg, I can make him as much 
 trousers as he needs out of the seat and the 
 right leg of the Captain's, and the other boy is so 
 small I can make him an entire pair, out of the 
 left leg which is left." 
 
 These severe economies seemed hard to the 
 schoolmaster, and then, trousers could not al- 
 ways be thus- constructed. He continued : 
 
 " Any time, Mrs. Allen, when you find this 
 too much for you, I'll speak to the guardians 
 about the child." 
 
 " Well ! I guess me and Captain Allen will be 
 hard up," cried Mrs. 'Liza, valiantly, "when we 
 can't do for a child we've seen fit to adopt. And 
 we are not such heathens as to send a dear little 
 innocent fellow to that hideous county alms- 
 house. We will do better than that for him, if 
 we are poor." 
 
 " I'm the last one to wish a child in the county-
 
 44 The Captain s Bargain. 
 
 house," said the schoolmaster. " I only spoke 
 with a feeling for you. In such a matter more 
 is to be regarded than money. The responsibility 
 of a child is a great one, Mrs. Allen. The child 
 being immortal, any work for the child runs far 
 out, yes, through eternity. It is a work not only 
 of feeding and clothing the body, but of nurtur- 
 ing the heart, the mind, the soul." 
 
 " I've precious little time to think in all those 
 directions," said Mrs. 'Liza. " There isn't much 
 I can do for the boy, but I can and will mother 
 him." 
 
 Just then the child in question came in with 
 Pink ; he and she were leading between them 
 the faltering steps of the eighteen-months-old 
 Bop. The three went straight to Eliza, and 
 leaned against her apron, as if she belonged 
 equally to all of them. Tears came into the eyes 
 of the master at this spectacle. He said, with 
 a quiet tone : 
 
 " If you mother him, Mrs. Allen, you do the 
 very best that can be done for him. Scripture 
 itself cannot go beyond that, for it is written, 
 ' As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I 
 comfort you.' ' 
 
 Perhaps it was owing to the report of the 
 schoolmaster that the neighborhood ceased its 
 criticisms, and accepted " Wobbie " as part and
 
 The Captains Bargain. 45 
 
 parcel of the Allen household. And the child 
 made good his place there. The Captain loved 
 him as we love that which has cost us much. 
 None but Captain 'Zekiel knew what the renun- 
 ciation of his glass of liquor had cost him. None 
 knew how he craved his lifelong indulgence, and 
 fought fiercely with appetite for the child's sake. 
 None but the Captain knew how strong that 
 appetite had become. It was like cutting off 
 a right hand, or plucking out a right eye to 
 deny it. 
 
 Mrs. 'Liza loved the boy as the pledge of her 
 greatest victory, and the assurance of her family 
 peace. She had been sorely troubled lest Cap- 
 tain Allen should ruin himself and disgrace his 
 children by falling into drunkenness. Now her 
 horizon cleared, the great cloud of her married 
 life had melted away under Robbie's sunny 
 smile. 
 
 And then, there was Pink. The child was of 
 a timid, lonely disposition and delicate health. 
 Unwilling to play out of doors or alone, she had 
 clung to the house and her mother, forever in 
 the way, cross and unhealthy from lack of out- 
 of-door air and proper sport. But Robbie was 
 a very king of sports. From morning until 
 night he was ready to frolic, and he rejoiced in 
 the "greenwood tree," like another Robin Hood.
 
 46 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 All that he had ever seen of life or play he re- 
 hearsed daily, but always in genial, innocent 
 fashion. His " let's play " became a formula for 
 the cure of all Pink's ills. He embraced the 
 baby in the games, and all the baby's vandal- 
 isms. If the baby carried off playthings, and 
 broke up toys, the scream of Pink's rage was 
 arrested by " Let's play," " Let's play he was a 
 wobber," " Let's play he was a big dog," " Let's 
 play he was the bobby takin' off ze sings for 
 went." He taught Pink how to make houses of 
 sticks and stones, and to furnish them with 
 acorns, broken china, and leaves and flowers. 
 Bread, under the magic wand of his imagina- 
 tion, became cake and pie and meat ; and water 
 was milk, tea, coffee, soup. Out of doors, run- 
 ning, laughing, enjoying from morning to even- 
 ing, getting healthful appetite and healthful 
 fatigue, Pink grew plump, rosy, pleasant. Mrs. 
 Eliza said she " never had known so much peace 
 since she was married." 
 
 " My Bargain isn't such a bad bargain after 
 all, is it, 'Liza?" said the Captain. "It turns 
 out a good one." 
 
 Above the Captain's living-rooms was a work- 
 shop, where, when other work was slack, the 
 Captain and " the Hands " made beehives, wash- 
 ing benches, common doors, and did other such
 
 The Captains Bargain. 47 
 
 crude carpentry as was needed by the immediate 
 neighbors. If the weather was bad, this shop 
 became the playground of the children, where, 
 under Robbie's leadership, they made boats, 
 dolls, stores, out of chips and shavings. 
 
 On a rainy day in May, they were thus in the 
 shop, and at last the baby had fallen asleep on a 
 pile of shavings, and Pink was building particu- 
 larly high towers all by herself. Robbie climbed 
 to the corner of the work-bench, and watched 
 Jerry grooving the side of a beehive for Deacon 
 Britt. 
 
 " Jerry," said Robbie, " was you made with one 
 leg and one eye ? " 
 
 " Oh, no," said Jerry. " I had two legs, and 
 two eyes. But I lost 'em. I lost a leg, and I 
 lost an eye." 
 
 " Do you think, Jerry, that I'll lose a leg, and 
 an eye ? " 
 
 " Oh, I hope not," said Jerry, "for you've got 
 as handsome a pair of eyes, and as handsome a 
 pair of legs, as any one could wish to see. And 
 then, you're not so unfort'nate as I am. No 
 one ever is so unfort'nate. I was born unfort- 
 'nate. In the first place, my father and mother 
 died when I was a baby, and I had only my 
 poor old granny to take care of me. When I 
 was about your size, I began selling papers. I
 
 48 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 kept on with that for two or three years, till one 
 day, standing with my papers, as you may say, 
 under my arm, looking at some men unloading 
 a wagon of whiskey-barrels, one of the men 
 having too much whiskey in him, let a barrel 
 slip, and it rolled on my leg. They took me to 
 the hospital, and my leg had to be cut off." 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " sighed Robbie, deeply interested. 
 
 " When I was cured, and had a wooden leg, 
 I went out with my papers again. Well, one 
 night I went into a cobbler-shop, as was in the 
 cellar, we living in the attic ; and the cobbler, 
 he was took with what they call ' tremblings,' 
 and began to sling things around rather permis- 
 kis, thinking there was rats on the floor. One 
 of the things he slung was an awl, and it hit my 
 eye and that was gone and they took me to 
 the hospital again. They did something to the 
 cobbler give him six months or so but that 
 didn't put back my eye, did it, now ? " 
 
 Robbie shook his curly head in grave nega- 
 tion. 
 
 "When I came out that time, the doctors give 
 me two dollars, and I bought a kit and set up 
 for a shoeblack. We lived in a alley off Water 
 Street, Philidelphy. But after awhile, along of 
 the wet and cold of an awful bad winter, my 
 granny having died, and nobody being left to
 
 The Captains Bargain. 49 
 
 keep me a fire or a bit of hot victuals, why, I 
 got the newmony on my lungs, and I got took 
 to the hospital ; that was the third time. A 
 mighty nice place is the hospital ; it's warm, it's 
 quiet, it's clean. You gets well-treated, good 
 bed, good grub, clean clothes. Oh, I liked the 
 hospital first-class, and I couldn't bear to leave 
 it. Along of my bein' so unfort'nate, they let 
 me stop a good while. But I couldn't stop for- 
 ever. Other folks wanted to come in, and I 
 had to turn out. One of the doctors give me 
 fifty cents, and the matron did me up extry 
 shirt and socks in a bundle, and there I was, 
 outside the gate. They told me to go to my 
 friends. But you can't go to your friends when 
 you haven't any friends to go to, can you, now ? " 
 
 Robbie shook his head to show that, in his 
 opinion, decidedly you could not. 
 
 "Well, I hung round the hospital corner. It 
 was in October. It began to get evenin', an' 
 cold an' foggy, an' I bein' weak, an' only little 
 past 'leven," added Jerry, apologetically, " I sat 
 on the curbstone an' I cried my hardest. Just 
 then, 'long come Cap'n Allen. He stopped to 
 ask what was up, an' when he seen me so very 
 unfort'nate one eye, one leg, thin, and all that 
 he said, come along with him an' he'd see me 
 all right. I'll allow," added Jerry, "from the
 
 5O The Captains Bargain. 
 
 way the Cap'n talked for he had been havin' a 
 glass or two I made sure he owned half Penn- 
 sylvany; an' that I was goin' to be dressed in 
 welwet, an' eat off silver dishes, an' be a Cresses 
 all my days. But after all, what's the odds ? I 
 think I like it better as it is. It suits my one 
 eye, and my wooden leg, and my raising. Be- 
 sides, what more can a man want than enough 
 to eat, a good bed, a good fire, clean clothes, 
 and plenty to do ? Ain't that enough for a 
 man ?" 
 
 Robbie was an admirable listener ; he merely 
 nodded to show that these were his views en- 
 tirely. 
 
 " But when Cap'n 'Zekiel brought me home," 
 cried Jerry, warming to his tale, " then there was 
 a time. They hadn't no children then, and I'll 
 allow that when a woman gets offered to her, 
 for her first child, a boy 'leven year old past, 
 with a peaked face yaller with sickness, and only 
 one eye, and a wooden leg, nat'rally that woman 
 wouldn't be expected to take kindly to it. The 
 ma'am, she was mad. She says to Cap'n 'Ze^ 
 kiel, 'That boy's goin' down to Philidelphy in 
 the next barge as ever goes down the river, and 
 that is Deacon Britt's,' says she, ' an' it goes this 
 day week.' When you come here, you know, 
 and a little breeze was raised similar, I knowed
 
 The Captains Bargain. 51 
 
 how to feel for you. And when I see how 
 much gumption you showed, keeping well out 
 of sight behind the stove, an' lettin' the ma'am 
 handle you as she liked, an' keepin' Pink pleased, 
 I 'lo\ved you was the right sort." 
 
 Robbie showed all his teeth in joy of this en- 
 comium. 
 
 " Well, you see, I didn't lay out to go back to 
 the sidewalks of Philidelphy. I had a week to 
 get on the good side of the ma'am. When I 
 had been let stay in the hospital, after I was 
 pretty well, I had gone round where I liked, and 
 a good bit in the kitchen. So I knew how to 
 do a thing or two. Next day I asked the 
 ma'am to let me shine the knives, an' black the 
 stove, seein' I'd learned how to handle shoe- 
 brushes. She let me. Then I 'lowed I could 
 wash the dishes. Next thing I 'lowed I could 
 do was mop the floor and clean the windows. 
 Then, one day, when I heard the ma'am tell the 
 Cap'n ' she couldn't get into this shop, he kep' 
 such a plaguey litter,' I came up here an' cleaned 
 it all up, an' shone the tools, an' went an' asked 
 her to come see how nice it looked I knowed 
 she couldn't abide the noise of my leg, so one 
 day I says to her that there was some good in a 
 wooden leg. Boys with two own legs can be 
 mighty softly if they like, and sneak into the
 
 52 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 closet, an' listen behind doors, ' but wherever I 
 am, you're bound to hear me,' says I ; and the 
 ma'am she 'lowed there was some sense in that. 
 The day that barge of Deacon Britt's was to go 
 down stream, I rose up early, an' told the ma'am 
 that as there'd been a big frost, if she'd let me 
 go up the mounting, I could bring her a lot of 
 nuts, an' I 'lowed as she might like to have a 
 pile of chestnuts and hickorys for winter. She 
 told me to go, an' you may make up your mind 
 I didn't get back till dark night, when I made 
 sure that blessed barge was well down past Lacy. 
 Then I came in with a bag of nuts, an' 'lowed I 
 could get twice as many more, if she'd let me 
 go again. I've never heard any more talk about 
 sendin' me down to Philidelphy. For the first 
 two years and a half I did a grist of housework, 
 and minding Pink when she come, but I'll 'low 
 I never was a master-hand with children. For 
 a year and a half now, I've been the only man 
 the Cap'n's had, an' me an' the Cap'n gets along 
 remarkable yes, remarkable. Because, you see, 
 I don't mind work, an' if you're goin' to work, 
 you might just as well work hard. You've got 
 to do something in this world, haven't you ? 
 Well, then, I say, why not as well work as any- 
 thing?" 
 
 From the vigorous way in which Robbie
 
 The Captains Bargain. 53 
 
 nodded his head, those seemed to be his ideas 
 exactly. 
 
 So this was the history of the Captain's other 
 Bargain. Neither had that been a bad bargain, 
 Mrs. 'Liza being witness. Jerry did a deal more 
 work than most boys of fifteen who have the 
 full complement of legs and eyes. He had a 
 certain knack of handling a saw, a hammer, a 
 plane ; and if a neighbor came to have a bit of 
 work done, while Captain 'Zekiel was up on the 
 mountain looking at such stray lots of standing 
 timber as might be offered him, Jerry was capable 
 of doing whatever was to be done. If "the 
 ma'am " wanted a nail driven, or a stool made, 
 or soft-soap boiled, Jerry was on hand prompt 
 to execute the commission. He had been to 
 school winters until he could read and write 
 after a fashion, but Jerry said he " didn't take 
 to learning ; a man couldn't do everything in 
 this world, could he?" 
 
 It was in May that Mistress Eliza made a 
 proclamation to her household. She said she 
 had had enough of nicknames. Pink, from her 
 red, infantile countenance, had been called Pink, 
 until no one knew her name was Elizabeth. 
 Bop had been adopted as short for " baby," 
 which was a euphemism for Ezekiel. This new 
 Bargain of the Captain's should not have a
 
 54 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 nickname. No Robbie for him. He look- 
 ed a princely child, with a right to have a full 
 name Robert ; and nothing but Robert was 
 henceforth to be the style of The Captain's 
 Bargain.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE SUMMER SUN SHINES. 
 
 THE hereditary saw-mill of Captain Allen 
 was one of the few survivors of the hundred 
 brave mills which were once driven by the vari- 
 ous waters of Schuylkill County. In early days 
 the rugged surface of that county was covered 
 with magnificent forests of chestnut, oak, beech, 
 maple, birch, hemlock, poplar, and pine. Of 
 these it has now been, unfortunately, nearly de- 
 nuded. Only upon some of the most rocky 
 hills, and along the most defiant streams, have 
 new forests risen to replace the old. The Cap- 
 tain's mill stood where his grandfather had built 
 it, but its glory had departed. All the better 
 kinds of timber had perished. When new 
 houses were built, brick and manufactured lum- 
 ber from Maine and the Carolinas supplied the 
 contractors. The acres which belonged to the 
 mill were few and unproductive, and beneath 
 their soil lay none of the mineral wealth which, 
 suddenly developed, has enriched many of the 
 heirs of Schuylkill lands. One misfortune after 
 another had pursued the Allen generations. 
 
 (55)
 
 56 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 Their little property was mortgaged. The Cap- 
 tain, until he reached middle-age, had been the 
 sole support of an invalid sister. During the 
 years of his tendance upon her, 'Liza, having 
 been obliged to give up her early school-teach- 
 ing, had been nurse and provider for a paralyzed 
 father. At last, when both father and sister 
 were gone, and the years of their own youth 
 had gone also, the Captain and Eliza married. 
 Within six months, the house, in which three gen- 
 erations of Aliens had been sheltered, was burned 
 to the ground, and the newly married pair saved 
 little besides the stove, crockery, and cooking 
 utensils of the outside kitchen. This might 
 have overwhelmed a less energetic couple, but, 
 gathering themselves together after the first 
 amazement, the Captain proceeded to fit up two 
 rooms below the mill for a domicile, and make 
 tables, bedsteads, and other furniture therefor, 
 while Eliza sewed and nursed for her neighbors, 
 until she had earned enough for another plen- 
 ishing of household linen, blankets, and cur- 
 tains. Her busy hands were never still ; she 
 was always contriving something for her little 
 home. 
 
 Besides the mill, the Captain owned a barge, 
 the Fair- Weather. It was a wide, clumsy craft, 
 built for safety and capacity for lading. The
 
 The Summer Sun Shines. 57 
 
 Captain supplemented the small income of the 
 mill by a yearly voyage to Philadelphia, down 
 the Schuylkill and its system of canals. 
 
 This voyage generally occupied six weeks. 
 It was undertaken at the beginning of June. 
 The barge had a great square sail, which could 
 be used when the wind chanced to serve, but its 
 progress was generally made along the river by 
 a setting-pole. Through the canals horses were 
 hired for towing, though Captain Allen remem- 
 bered well when he and his brother, who had 
 long since " gone West," used themselves to tow 
 their father's boat through the canals by fasten- 
 ing the towing-line to the middle of a stick, the 
 ends of which they braced across their breasts, 
 as they stoutly dragged their boat. 
 
 This voyage was the great event of the year 
 to the Aliens. It was a long picnic. At the 
 city the Captain bought the one ready-made suit, 
 and Eliza the one gown-piece, which they allowed 
 themselves for each year. Eliza also bought a 
 little bonnet-trimming, some shoes, factory cloth 
 and calico. Nor was she restricted in the dear de- 
 light of shopping by the poverty of her own 
 purse. Her neighbors sent by her for various 
 articles, which she had the pleasure of purchasing 
 at Philadelphia stores. But the real object of 
 the trip was not merely buying, but selling. The
 
 58 The Captain s Bargain. 
 
 Captain sold on commission, or bought and re- 
 sold, honey, butter, cheese, home-cured bacon, 
 ham and pork, corn-husk mats, hand-knit socks 
 and mittens, and many other articles, for which 
 he had had for years regular purchasers in the city. 
 
 This voyage now began to be talked of. 
 Robert understood that they were going some- 
 where in the boat, and he was to go too. 
 
 " Where are we going ? " he asked. 
 
 " Down to the city, where you came from," 
 said Jerry. 
 
 " You won't tate me back ? " cried Robert, 
 turning wide eyes of terror on the Captain. 
 
 " No, indeed, my man, we'll keep you for- 
 ever," said the Captain. It did cross his mind 
 that if the boy were seen and claimed by his 
 parents, he, the Captain, would be freed from his 
 oath of abstinence. But, at the same time, the 
 Captain felt sure that liquor drank at the expense 
 of losing Robert would be liquor that cost far 
 too dear. He was prepared to do valiant battle 
 with all creation for the ownership of the child. 
 And, indeed, even the unmaternal tramp who 
 deserted him would not have been at all likely 
 to recognize in the jolly, rosy, plump, spotlessly- 
 clean child with the shining curls, the thin, pale, 
 frightened, dirty little one she had abandoned on 
 the roadside.
 
 The Summer Sun Shines. 59 
 
 r That Robert had been brought into Schuyl- 
 kill county from some great city they were 
 sure from the child's notions and remarks. 
 When first he had seen the impetuous waters of 
 Lai's Creek, he had said that they must come 
 from " an awful big hyd'ant, and why did they 
 let 'em rim away?" When he saw Jerry milk- 
 ing the cow, he had thrown that one-eyed youth 
 nearly into convulsions by saying that he "didn't 
 know milk came out of a live hyd'ant." At first 
 he was afraid to walk on the grass, lest the 
 " bobbies," which is gamin vernacular for police- 
 men, should " get him." As for flowers, the first 
 day that he found Pink picking liberal dande- 
 lions and buttercups, he kept checking her, and 
 taking the flowers from her and hiding them. 
 At last, as the little maid kept on, and Eliza was 
 coming, he seized all the flowers and held them 
 himself. At this Pink wept. 
 
 " Give Pink her flowers," said Eliza. 
 
 " They's mine, I picked 'em ! " insisted Robert. 
 
 "Why do you say that?" said Eliza, finally, 
 " it is very, very naughty. I saw Pink pick them. 
 You did not pick one." 
 
 " I picked 'em," asseverated Robert, " if Pink 
 picked 'em the bobbies will get her and and 
 she's too little for the bobbies to get. I'm big." 
 
 Thus Eliza perceived that the infant Bayard
 
 60 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 was ready to sacrifice himself to the bobbies in 
 the stead of Pink. In fact, Pink had a true 
 knight in Robert. " Half for Pink " became a 
 byword in the family. Whatever Robert got, 
 Pink had the half, and if he divided the half, for 
 Pink was manifestly the larger half. Every 
 apple or orange given him by customers at the 
 mill, every cake dealt out by Mrs. Deacon Britt, 
 was " half for Pink." Finally, a man who was 
 having some corn ground, for the mill had a run 
 of stones for grinding corn, gave Robert a bright 
 new cent. He ran to Eliza, held it up, and 
 looked at it with eagerness. 
 
 " Tan you break it ? half for Pink ! " 
 
 " Oh, no, you can't break a penny," said Eliza 
 (who, in her school-keeping days, had broken a 
 sixpence with Captain 'Zekiel). 
 
 Robert gave half a sigh and half a second to 
 thought, then " All for Pink," he said, cheer- 
 fully, and handed over his first fortune with a 
 smile. 
 
 No wonder that Captain 'Zekiel thought this 
 little gentleman worth all the drinks in the 
 world. 
 
 Once assured that nothing should part him 
 from his new parents, Robert beheld with inter- 
 est the process of cleaning, repairing, and lading 
 the barge Fair- Weather.
 
 The Summer Sun Shines. 61 
 
 "Am you going, Jerry?" he asked "the 
 Hands" one evening. " Don't you want to go 
 on the boat ? " 
 
 " No, I ain't," said Jerry, "and I don't want 
 to go. I don't hanker after no cities. I had 
 enough of 'em when I was little. Cities is all 
 smells and yells." 
 
 " You might go to the hospital again," said 
 Robert. 
 
 " Not unless I lost one of my arms, and I 
 hope I won't be so unfort'nate," said Jerry. 
 " The hospital is the nicest part of the city, but 
 this is nicer than the hospital, by a long shot. 
 Besides, you see, Robert, somebody must stay 
 home. There's the cow to look after, and the 
 chickens to feed, and the pig to be tended, and 
 the garden to be weeded and hoed, or we won't 
 have potatoes, or beans, and corn for winter. 
 Then somebody, like as not, will want some corn 
 ground or some boards run out, and I've got to 
 be here to 'tend to business." 
 
 "Won't you be lonesome, Jerry?" asked 
 Robert. 
 
 " Not much. I'll have a tip-top time. There's 
 all the wood-ashes from the winter leached, and 
 the winter soap-grease ready, ahd I'm going to 
 make the year's soap. The ma'am she 'lows 
 there ain't a woman in this district can make as
 
 62 The Captain's Bargain. 
 
 good soap, both hard and soft, as Jerry can. 
 Then the cow is giving lots of milk, and there'll 
 be none of you here to use milk or butter, and 
 I'll churn every week twice, and Saturdays I'll 
 borry Deacon Britt's row-boat, and I'll go down 
 to Lacy and sell my butter, and all the eggs the 
 hens lay, and any garden-sass that's grovved, and 
 when the ma'am gets back I'll have a nice little 
 bag of dollars for her. The ma'am she 'lows 
 there never was such a feller to make a little 
 money as Jerry. I don't want better vacation 
 than going down to Lacy Saturdays to sell my 
 things. The ma'am she 'lows that Jerry could 
 make a livin' on a bare rock, and so I could." 
 
 "What could you do on the bare rock, 
 Jerry ? " asked Robert, with the earnestness of a 
 disciple. 
 
 " I'd," said the master of economics, taken 
 aback by the practicality of the question, " well, 
 I'd pound up the rock, and sell it 'stead of cuttle- 
 bone for cage-birds ! " 
 
 " What makes it so much nicer here, Jerry, 
 than in the city ? What makes the city all 
 smells and yells?" asked the pupil. 
 
 " It's my 'pinion," said the one-legged pre- 
 ceptor, " that what ruins the city is the whiskey. 
 The yells comes from the whiskey out and out, 
 fighting, falling, squabbling. The smells, they
 
 The Summer Sun Shines. 63 
 
 come from dirt, the dirt you find along with the 
 smells where it is very poor, and the poorness 
 comes from drinking the whiskey. What makes 
 here so much better than the city, Robert, is 
 water. You see the water there ? It turns our 
 mill. It waters the trees and grass and flow- 
 ers. It makes all cool and clean and pleasant ; 
 and if we didn't have water here we couldn't 
 have birds or squirrels 'round us. Our river is 
 water. There's a big river running down the 
 city, Robert, and it's a river of rum, and it pro- 
 duces accordin'." With which mystical sen- 
 tence Jerry went off to feed the pig. 
 
 Robert, like Jerry, preferred the country to 
 the city. He took readily to his rural surround- 
 ings, soon learned to drive the cow home from 
 her feeding on the hillside, learned to spy out 
 the birds'-nests in grass and bush, and watched 
 them in such intense quiet as not to alarm the 
 brooding birds. He would stand fascinated to 
 watch the squirrels, red and gray, whirling round 
 the tree-trunks ; and then, what wordless joy he 
 found in the downy broods of chickens ! To 
 take food and water to the speckled mothers of 
 those fluffy, cheeping balls, was pure joy. If 
 Robert had been an Egyptian Prince of the dy- 
 nasty of the Elephantinites, he would no doubt 
 have put the chicken among gods to be wor-
 
 64 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 shipped. So dear were the delights of the 
 home at the mill, that Robert's mind was equally 
 divided between the home and the prospective 
 trip. 
 
 While Jerry had always called his protectors 
 "The ma'am" and "The Cap'n," Robert called 
 them " father and mother." Jerry, well-esteemed 
 and well-cared for, was always " the Hands." 
 Robert slipped at once into the place of a treas- 
 ured son. Nor was it without envy, that the 
 lately criticising neighbors saw the Captain and 
 'Liza "come to meeting" with the new boy in 
 their household band. "Going to meeting" 
 was, in the Lai's Mountain district, a family af- 
 fair. On the blue benches of the school-house 
 there was, between the father and mother, no 
 vacuum abhorred of God, occasioned by the 
 leaving of the children to play at home during 
 church-time. The honest people came, and 
 brought their children. The infants sat on 
 their mothers' knees. Sometimes they slept, 
 sometimes they ate cake, sometimes they " spoke 
 in meeting" a few words of infantile bab- 
 ble, but no minister had ever been heard of 
 there who asked a mother to " remove that 
 child," or to "keep that child still." The inde- 
 feasible right of the children in the house of 
 their God was recognized. Have not children
 
 The Summer Sun Shines. 65 
 
 as much right in the House of the Holy as the 
 sparrows? " Yea, the sparrow hath found her- 
 self a house, and the swallow a nest for herself, 
 where she may lay her young, even Thine altars, 
 O Lord of Hosts, my King and my God !" 
 
 So, on those calm, fragrant, sunny, summer 
 Sabbaths the Allen family walked the mile to 
 the old red school-house, Captain 'Zekiel carry- 
 ing Bop, and Robert leading Pink, and Jerry 
 vigorously stumping in the rear of the line of 
 march ; and, for the first time in her life, Pink 
 " behaved like a lady," and stared solemnly at 
 the minister, because she was sitting by that ad- 
 mirable little gentleman, Robert, who seemed 
 never once even to wink his long, curly, brown 
 eyelashes, until the whole ceremony was ended. 
 
 " That is a lovely child," said Mrs. Deacon 
 Britt, bestowing unlimited seed-cake on the 
 well-behaved infant. " I wish you'd give him 
 to me, Mrs. Allen. You have your own, you 
 could spare him." 
 
 " He is my own, now," said 'Liza. " I couldn't 
 spare him by any manner of means." 
 
 No. Thanks to Robert, she looked forward 
 with unalloyed pleasure to her trip down the 
 Schuylkill. Heretofore the stay at Philadelphia 
 had been troubled by the numerous invitations 
 the genial Captain received to drink and the
 
 66 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 great difficulty of keeping him from wasting 
 that hard-earned money which was to pay the 
 year's interest on the mortgage. But now, as 
 the Captain was a man of his word, Mrs. 'Liza 
 could take her trip with a cheerful heart. 
 
 And so, on a June day, the Fair-Weather 
 started. There was a tiny cabin fitted up with 
 three berths for the family, a little charcoal stove 
 for the cooking, washing, and ironing. The 
 provisions were aboard. The freight was all 
 piled up safely under the deck, or covered with 
 a tarred tarpaulin on the deck. There was no 
 packing of trunks, or buying of garments, or 
 making a travelling-gear for this journey. Eliza 
 put a few changes of raiment into a little blue 
 bag, and the Captain carried it aboard on his 
 shoulder ; the children went on their ship bare- 
 footed, in the ten-cent chip-hats, whereof the 
 careful Eliza had lined the brims with green 
 calico. " The Hands " stood on the bank and 
 waved his arm, his crutch, and his wooden leg in 
 farewell. Mistress 'Liza wasted no breath in 
 telling the invaluable Jerry what to do he 
 knew. Like Joseph, all that his master had 
 was under his hand. 
 
 Then Mrs. Eliza sat down on a kitchen chair 
 beside the tiller, to lend a hand in steering, if 
 need be; the stout Captain planted his setting-
 
 The Summer Sun Shines. 67 
 
 pole in the bed of the stream, and, bowing his 
 huge frame against it, walked in great strides 
 along the deck ; and, thus propelled, and aided 
 by the current, the Fair- Weather swept away 
 from the mill, while Robert and Pink, on their 
 knees, leaned their heads over the low bulwarks, 
 and laughed at their own reflections in the 
 dancing waters. The year before, Pink had 
 done little but scream and keep the baby scream- 
 ing, all the way to Philadelphia and back and . 
 the Captain also had visited the big bottle 
 oftener than usual. But now, blessed be Rob- 
 ert's curly head! the terms of the "Treaty of 
 Lai's Mountain " had been, " No bottle no 
 tantrums ! " Madame Eliza was at peace. 
 
 "There are plenty to want Robert now," 
 she had casually remarked one day, knowing 
 well that she was prepared in her heart to fight 
 his own mother like a lioness for the possession 
 of him. 
 
 Down the creek, which, making a bend about 
 the foot of Lai's Mountain, just after leaving 
 the mill, widened and deepened, and rolled more 
 sluggishly, until it joined the Schuylkill, they 
 floated into the often-sung river. Above them 
 shone, flecked here and there with soft clouds, 
 like the famous golden fleece, those blue June 
 skies of the Keystone State, which rival the skies
 
 68 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 of Italy. They drifted by those " flowery banks " 
 which were bright to the eye of the poet Moore. 
 The long grasses, the willows and the birch 
 leaned to touch the clear waters ; the banks 
 swept in goodly curves, now high, now low ; 
 here, little shapely cedars, like Christmas-trees, 
 stood erect, among gray lichen-decked stones ; 
 there, brambles white with bloom, and wild-roses 
 flushed with fragrant flowers, wreathed the 
 . banks. Little islets rose upon their right, and 
 drifted slowly behind them, as the Fair- Weather 
 went steadily on. Here a little sail-boat, or a 
 clumsy barge, passed them or met them ; here a 
 little punt rocked on the water, while a man or 
 a boy fished. Robert and Pink fished too, with 
 bent pins tied to threads. They caught nothing, 
 unless the happy thought occurred to the Cap- 
 tain to secretly pull up the lines and fasten to 
 them a spool, or a bit of chip or other trash, it 
 was all "fish" to the children. At evening the 
 Fair-Weather was tied up at the bank. The 
 Captain had friends all along the shores ; he 
 had gone up and down the Schuylkill once or 
 twice a year for over thirty years. The friends 
 came aboard to visit Captain 'Zekiel and 'Liza, 
 gray old men, with tales of " When I was 
 young"; brisk housewives, with narrations of 
 new recipes, and new patterns of quilts ; young
 
 The Summer Sun Shines. 69 
 
 men and maidens, out for an evening of court- 
 ing ; little children sometimes brought to play 
 with the Captain's children. 
 
 Thanks to the Captain's former methods of 
 good fellowship, there were big bottles brought 
 too, sometimes, as well as babies. Great was 
 the wonder when, with a little constrained laugh, 
 Captain 'Zekiel said : 
 
 " No, thankee, no ; I'm sworn off that now." 
 
 Well ! well ! They looked at Mrs. 'Liza, but 
 she said never a word. 'Liza was one of those 
 women who can be blind and deaf whenever it 
 suits them. 
 
 " Sworn off ! Well, 'Zekiel, has the temper- 
 ance wave swept you in too? 'Pears to me it's 
 going to sweep us all in sometime before long," 
 said one patriarch. 
 
 " It won't sweep in all of you older men who 
 have been taking your night-caps for fifty or sixty 
 years," said a dame who was "visiting" with 
 'Liza; "you'll keep to your toddy. But that 
 toddy generation will drop off one by one, and 
 we'll have a generation that have suckled tem- 
 perance ideas with their mothers' milk. We'll 
 have a generation of children that hear and see, 
 read and sing temperance, and then you'll see 
 what the country '11 rise to, when they go to the 
 polls, straight and strong, clean skins, keen
 
 /o The Captain s Bargain. 
 
 brains, clear ideas of what ought to be and what 
 ought not to be." 
 
 " Hear her. She's one of the lights of the 
 temperance cause, is my niece, Sary Ann," 
 laughed the patriarch. 
 
 " And I'm glad, Captain 'Zekiel," said Sary 
 Ann, "that you've took the right turn in the 
 prime of your days." 
 
 " Well, you see," said Captain 'Zekiel, " me 
 and 'Liza, we 'dopted a boy ; a little chap that 
 seemed to need adoptin'. But we're poor, and 
 we can't afford to lay out in all lines. It costs 
 money to fill a jug, and it costs money to buy 
 another child shoes, and so, and so why there's 
 the boy, you see, and me and 'Liza, we have 
 made a Bargain."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE ADVANTAGES OF LIVING WITH A PHI- 
 LOSOPHER. 
 
 DOWN the river and its locks to Philadelphia, 
 and up the stream again, after a week in the 
 city, went the good barge Fair- Weather. To 
 Robert that voyage was one splendid panorama 
 of delight ; its scenes shifting in time to a low 
 murmurous music of waters, and singing birds, 
 and leaves stirring in the summer breeze. In 
 that blissful period he lost the memory of his 
 miserable past ; he no longer recollected that he 
 had had his head knocked against the wall, or 
 had hidden under the bed, or that he had fled 
 shrieking from rum-maniacs, or that his toes had 
 been frost-bitten, or his fingers blue with cold. 
 All this that had hung in the background of his 
 infant mind, a haze of horror, vanished out of 
 sight, the cruise of the Fair-Weather coming 
 like a curtain of beautiful golden mist, to ob- 
 scure all that was behind it. Robert's life had 
 now a fairer horizon : all about him was now 
 green fields and blue sky, and on the verge where 
 earth and heaven met, walked his guardian angels, 
 
 (71)
 
 72 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 the kindly Captain, the energetic Mrs. 'Liza, and 
 the saucy Pink. 
 
 Oh, that was indeed a beautiful six weeks. 
 There were hours when the Captain stopped to 
 gather up a little more cargo, and Pink and 
 Robert went and played on the bank and picked 
 flowers. There were Sundays when the boat was 
 tied up, and they all went to some country 
 church, and took dinner and tea with farmhouse 
 acquaintances. There were admirable people 
 who came on the boat and gave cakes and straw- 
 berries to Robert and Pink. Strawberries ! 
 The little pair sat down on the deck, each with 
 a plate of fruit, and their finger-tips became red 
 as the berries they conveyed to their mouths. 
 Whenever Robert found an especially large berry 
 it went to Pink, 'and not to himself. In truth, 
 the little maid soon grew to expect it, and when 
 the boy picked up a peculiarly luscious cone, she 
 bent forward and opened her mouth, as if she were 
 a mechanical toy made for seizing strawberries. 
 
 The Fair-Weather returned to the mill, and 
 Jerry delivered up his trust of the estate, and 
 with pride gave his little bag of dollars to 
 Mrs. 'Liza. The summer went by to the tune 
 of " Let's play" and " Half for Pink." 
 
 It was on an October Saturday, that the school- 
 master, who had been out collecting autumn
 
 Living with a Philosopher. 73 
 
 flowers, met Robert, Pink, and Bop at the edge 
 of the wood. Robert was carrying Bop, and as 
 Bop was both fat and struggling, Robert's faa 
 was red from his exertions. Bop, screaming 
 lustily, was clawing promiscuously at his little 
 nurse's hair and ears. 
 
 "Take the child home," said the schoolmas- 
 ter ; " he wants to go to his mother." 
 
 " Mower can't be bovvered with him," said 
 Robert. " She's dot a pair of t'ins." 
 
 "Twins! Boys?" 
 
 Robert nodded, doubtfully. 
 
 "Girls?" 
 
 Another doubtful nod. Then the young 
 man's face cleared. " They's half boys, and half 
 gells. I like gells, 'cause Pink's a gell ; I like 
 boys, 'cause I'm a boy. But I've got to tend 
 Bop. He'll det used to it, won't he ? He tan't 
 ky forever, tan he ? " 
 
 No. Evidently even Bop, fine as was his ca- 
 pacity for crying, could not, like the stream, run 
 on forever. 
 
 The schoolmaster thought he could not spend 
 the rest of the day better than in taking care of 
 the children of the woman who had endowed 
 the world with "a pair of t'ins." He put a pep- 
 permint-drop into each open mouth, took Bop 
 on his shoulder, and entered the woods.
 
 74 The Captain s Bargain. 
 
 "Come see what I've got," cried the happy 
 Robert, leading the way to a tree, where the de- 
 cay of the short stump of a limb had made a 
 natural vase or bowl, which was filled with 
 water. " See ! it was all dirt and leaves, and I 
 cleaned it out, and now it's filled up of clean 
 water, and sings 'come and drink.' The chip- 
 munk holds on with his feet, and puts his nose 
 over the rim. The birds stand on the edge, and 
 dip in their bills ; the big butterflies come here 
 and drink, too, and Pink and I stand to watch 
 'em ! I love to give sings drinks. I put a chair 
 by the corner of the mill, and put a pail full of 
 water on it, for horses that come, and I lead 
 'em along, an' they drink a whole pail full ! 
 They drinked free pails' full, in one day once." 
 
 " But how did you get a pail filled, Robert ?" 
 
 "Oh, I tooked it in dippers. Lots of dip- 
 pers, till it was full. Mower said I'd run my 
 legs off, carrying water but I didn't ; my legs 
 is just as good as they was." And Robert, 
 casting down his eyes, surveyed his vigorous 
 little person with proper pride, and continued : 
 
 " I give the mans drinks, too. You know, a 
 man came las' yesterday, and he said, ' 'Zekiel, 
 haven't you a drop to keep a man alive ? I'm 
 'most dead for a drink.' An' I said, ' Oh, Mister, 
 I'll get you a drink.' And I ran, and I brought
 
 Living with a Philosopher. 75 
 
 a whole dipper full 'cause he was most dead 
 and he looked at me real funny, and he drinked 
 an awful lot, and he said, ' 'Zekiel, the boy's 
 right ; that goes to the right spot.' And 
 they both laughed. I don't know why they 
 laughed, and I don't know why he got 'most 
 dead for a drink, when there was a whole river 
 full and I don't know why he said the ' right 
 spot,' for there ain't but one spot, is there, and 
 that's inside of you ? I will ask Jerry all zem 
 sings." 
 
 After this, the young chatterbox made a tour 
 of observation, and returned on tiptoe, flushed, 
 eager. " Come see ! Come see ! " 
 
 They went through a group of hemlock trees, 
 and there Robert pointed out a great fungus, 
 which he called a "toad-stool," on authority of 
 Jerry. Beside it was a large wood-turtle. The 
 reptile's head was lifted, and it was busily eating 
 the fungus, walking slowly round it, and eating 
 the fleshy substance, taking it off in a neat ring. 
 It slowly chewed this pabulum and rejected the 
 fibrous portions, so that under the fungus lay a 
 little white circle of chewed matter. They 
 watched while the animal went slowly around 
 the plant, eating ; and the sharp-eyed Robert 
 pointed out two or three other toad-stools, which 
 had been eaten up to the stem. "Thai's his
 
 76 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 picnic," said Robert; "that is his table. Isn't 
 it real funny, to eat your table ?" 
 
 But while they looked, a shrill clatter rose in 
 the wood. " Oh ! There's a jaybird having a 
 show ! Let me go ! " cried the new Robin 
 Hood. And off he stole, quiet as a squirrel or 
 rabbit, through the brush, in the direction of the 
 sound. He came to where a tree limb reached 
 over a little clearing. On this sat a bluejay, 
 screaming and calling, with all his might. In 
 hot haste, at this summons, came the birds of 
 the wood, and seated themselves on twigs and 
 branches. The wood-dove rested and preened 
 its soft-gray breast ; the robin sat with big, 
 round, eager eyes, intent ; the kingbird ruffled 
 his pert crest ; the woodpecker clung to a trunk, 
 and held back his head in a suspended "drum- 
 ming stroke"; the catbird li on an outmost 
 bough ; the wren and titmouse waited. And 
 now the bluejay's audience was complete, even 
 to the watching brown eyes of the little boy, 
 and the harlequin bird began to antic. He 
 erected his head and spread his wings. He 
 whirled, he bowed, he chattered, he lifted his tail, 
 he danced, he pecked, he clawed, he screamed. 
 Now he seemed a frenzied orator in the midst 
 of his wildest flight ; then he seemed a favorite 
 clown, exhibiting in the ring; again, he was a
 
 Living with a Philosopher. 77 
 
 street mountebank, delighting his crowd. At 
 last, the jay was tired out, and his singular 
 performance was over ; the bird subsided into 
 calm, and looked with dignified wonder at his 
 beholders, as if to say, " Why are you staring at 
 me ? " The bird-audience had bought no tickets 
 of admission ; they gave no applause ; but when 
 all was over, the robin flew off to hunt grubs, 
 the woodpecker hammered on the tree, the dove 
 sought her nest in the thickest pine, and Rob- 
 ert, full of admiration, ran back to tell the 
 schoolmaster. " Whenever the jaybird calls like 
 that, I run to see the show," said Robert. 
 
 " You are a regular little woodsman," said 
 the schoolmaster. " When you come to school 
 to me, I will show you books about birds and 
 flowers." 
 
 " I'm coming when Pink is big enough to 
 come too," said Robert. " Next summer, maybe. 
 Father says he will teach me to read at home, first. 
 Then I can help Pink, when she don't know 
 anysing. Jerry is going to make us some let- 
 ter-blocks. Jerry tells me lots of sings. Jerry 
 knows everysing, most. Jerry is going to make 
 us a cart, big enough to hold Bop, and a keg, 
 or a big bag. And when nuts is ripe we is 
 going, me, and Pink, and Jerry, and Hop, up 
 the mountain, for lots of nuts. We has to
 
 78 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 take care of Bop, me and Jerry, for Bop don't 
 like the t'ins being in his cradle, and he leans 
 in and pulls ze t'ins' noses. The wagon Jerry is 
 going to make, will be big enough for ze t'ins, and 
 next summer I can drag' em' round, outdoors." 
 
 The making of the letter-blocks and the 
 wagon by Jerry, caused the workshop to be a 
 very interesting place to all the children. Jerry 
 sawed wheels out of pieces of plank, and while 
 he was making the body of the cart, or sawing 
 out square blocks, whereon to paste the fruitful 
 twenty-six letters, which are the key of knowl- 
 edge, Pink and Bop amused themselves for 
 hours, rolling the wheels across the shop floor. 
 
 Doubtless the twins, sleeping in the room be- 
 low, supposed themselves dwelling amid per- 
 petual low thunders, but they soon became used 
 to all manner of noises. 
 
 In the shop Robert much preferred conver- 
 sation with Jerry to play. He regarded Jerry 
 as a Fount of Wisdom. There was no question 
 too abstruse to be laid before Jerry ; there was 
 none so abstruse that Jerry would not boldly 
 venture an answer. As may have been gathered 
 from the samples of Jerry's conversation, he 
 was a philosopher. There are great advantages 
 in living with a philosopher ; Robert reaped 
 these advantages.
 
 Living with a Philosopher. 79 
 
 "Jerry," said Robert, '"does it make you feel 
 bad to have only one eye ? Don't you wish 
 you could grow another eye ? " 
 
 " I don't mind, I'm used to it," said Jerry, 
 " we can get used to 'most anything in this 
 world. I've heard of folks sleeping on beds 
 made of spikes, or nails, till their skins got as 
 tough as alligators' hides alligators is a kind of 
 reptile we don't have in this creek. And then 
 there is some good in having a blind side. 
 When I was at school, yonder, and the boys 
 undertook to jibe and jeer me, for having a 
 wooden leg, going about noisy and pegging the 
 way I do, somehow it always happened they did 
 it on the blind side of me, and so, I wasn't 
 obliged to take notice and fight 'em. If I'd 
 seen 'em, of course I'd had to fight 'em but 
 somehow all them little pranks was on my 
 blind side." 
 
 " Well, I haven't any blind side, Jerry," said 
 Robert, indignantly, " and if any boys make 
 faces at you, I'll see 'em, I can't help seeing 
 'em, and I'll hit 'em too. You see, I'll hit 'em 
 with both fists, just as hard as I can pound." 
 
 " All right, my chicken," said Jerry. " It is 
 always proper to defend other folks, though 
 you ain't obliged always to defend yourself. 
 Now if anybody come 'round jibing at the
 
 8o The Captains Bargain. 
 
 ma'am, anytime, someway it would be sure not 
 to be on my blind side. Things in this world 
 is cur'ous. And there's another good in 
 havin' a blind side. When I was up here to 
 school, the boys used to break the rules, pass- 
 ing notes, and maybe passing along a handful 
 of peas, to flip, or a pinch of pepper to put on 
 the stove. Such things always come along to my 
 blind side, and nat'rally I didn't see 'em. When 
 I goes down to Lacy, to do a little business, 
 and any one invites me into a bar to have a 
 glass of beer, or a lemonade with a stick in it, 
 or a little water crooked, why, all such invites 
 and beckons hits me on the blind side, and I'm 
 not supposed to see 'em." 
 
 " I shouldn't like lemonade with sticks nor 
 crooked water," interposed Robert, hesitantly. 
 
 " Of course not. They're bad. Water straight, 
 pnd lemonade Simon pure, that's your ticket. 
 Then ag'in, I'm often asked by men and lads as 
 hang 'round the mill here, to take a hand at 
 cards. But how can I when them cards is al- 
 ways on the side of my blind eye, and I can't tell 
 Ym from each other ? They soon found I was 
 no good at cards, and I spoiled all the games, 
 r.long of my blind eye. Yes, Robert, a blind 
 side is some good. You needn't always see when 
 somebody slights you, or mocks you. There's
 
 Living with a Philosopher. 81 
 
 lots of times when it's uncommon convenient 
 a blind side." 
 
 " But the leg, Jerry, is it any good to have a 
 wooden leg ? " 
 
 " Lots of good, when you has one," said Jerry, 
 cheerfully. " Why, Robert, you look here ; you 
 can get cold in both feet. I never can have but 
 one cold foot, and that I can sit on, you see, if 
 so be I am taking a long, cold ride or so. Then, 
 too, when folks have two legs there's two chances 
 of breaking 'em. But if I break my left leg it's 
 easy mended. All I have to do is to take the 
 axe and the plane, and a piece of wood, and 
 make me another. Then again, one pair of 
 shoes to me is two pairs. I buys 'em 4 not rights 
 and lefts.' I says, ' Both alike.' So one pair is 
 two. The same with stockings. It don't take 
 near so much to make me trousers as it does 
 other folks. And then, I've got only one big 
 toe to stub. Also, when I come to a big wet or 
 muddy place, what do I do ? I just put my peg 
 leg in the middle of it, reach out my crutch, and 
 over it I go ! I never get my feet wet. How 
 can I when I have only one foot ?" 
 
 44 Well, then, Jerry, wouldn't it be nice if all 
 peoples had only one leg? " 
 
 44 Well, no," said Jerry, <4 there ought to be a 
 good many two-legged people in the world, for
 
 82 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 there are things only two-legged people can do. 
 It takes a two-legged man to make a boot. I 
 says all these things in favor of one leg, because 
 I have only one leg, and it's always a good plan, 
 Robert, to be in favor of what you have, if you 
 can't change it. If I fretted no end, it wouldn't 
 grow me a new eye or a new leg, so what's the 
 use of fretting ? I'd better spend my ideas in 
 looking up the good of what I've got." 
 
 " Jerry, are you going to live here at the mill 
 all your life ? " asked Robert. 
 
 " I wish I might," said Jerry, heartily. 
 
 " But, Jerry, suppose, suppose the mill all 
 burnt up, like father says his house did ? Or, 
 suppose it fell down, mower says she believes 
 it will some 'day; or, suppose, suppose every- 
 body died, Jerry, what would you do ? " 
 
 " Well, then, I'd do something else. There 
 never is a time, Robert, when you can't do some- 
 thing else. If one thing's done, another comes 
 on. It's like the garden, Robert. In the spring, 
 early, you plant lettuce, but the time comes 
 when the lettuce is bitter and goes to seed ; but 
 that's just the time when you can haul up the 
 lettuce and plant your turnips for Thanksgivin' 
 in the lettuce-beds. Now, I says to the ma'am 
 the other day, ' What's the good of thinkin' sup- 
 pose we can't pay the interest on the mortgage
 
 Living with a Philosopher. 83 
 
 and the man forecloses it ? Why, ain't it just as 
 good,' I says, 'to keep cheerful, thinking sup- 
 pose we can pay the whole mortgage off, and 
 have money enough over to build a new mill ? 
 It's as easy to suppose one as the other,' I says, 
 'and it's much more agreeable,' and the ma'am 
 she allowed I was about right." 
 
 " Jerry, what's a mortgage ? " asked Robert, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " A mortgage ?" said the philosopher, " a mort- 
 gage ? Well, a mortgage Robert, what is that 
 thing under the bark of this piece of wood ?" 
 
 Robert looked. 
 
 " It's a worm, Jerry, eating all the wood into 
 holes." 
 
 " Well, Robert, a mortgage is a big worm 
 eatin' all a piece of property into holes." 
 
 " Dear me," said Robert, looking up at 
 the mill roof. " So there are holes, Jerry ; 
 how did there come to be a mortgage on the 
 mill ? " 
 
 " I'm afraid," said Jerry, " it got there because 
 the Cap'n's father had what are called drinking 
 habits, Robert, drinking habits." 
 
 " And, Jerry, what's drinking habits ? " 
 
 " Drinking habits," said Jerry, sandpapering a 
 letter-block, " are a big worm eating out a man's 
 good sense, and his good health, and his good
 
 84 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 feelings, and his good fortune, and all that's good 
 about him." 
 
 "Oh, dear," said Robert. "I hope father 
 .lon't have any drinking habits." 
 
 " No more he don't," said Jerry. " I have 
 often seen, Robert, a right wise woodpecker, 
 with a nest full of young ones to feed, settle 
 herself on a tree where there was such a worm 
 as this, and drive a peck straight home in the 
 right spot, and out with that same worm, and 
 save that tree." 
 
 Which was a parable. 
 
 " There's father coming down the road with 
 the schoolmaster ! " cried Robert, clambering 
 down from the work-bench, and flying to meet 
 Captain 'Zekiel. 
 
 " You are very fond of this brave little man," 
 said the schoolmaster, as Captain 'Zekiel wel- 
 comed the boy, with a shout. 
 
 " So I am," said the Captain. " He's cost 
 me something a deal more than I knew at the 
 time. I'll say it to you, schoolmaster, because 
 i often have said to you, that you drew it too 
 \ ! iarp on Temperance. When I brought him 
 lijme, 'Liza she took a shrewd woman's ad- 
 v intage. ' The child or the bottle, 'Zekiel ; take 
 } >ur choice.' That was the gist of what she 
 laid down. ' Can I throw away such a child as 
 that/ I says to myself, ' for the sake of an
 
 Living with a Philosopher. 85 
 
 appetite?' Well I gave my word and 'Ze- 
 kiel Allen's word is a thing he don't take back. 
 Then the tug came in. I never knew how I 
 loved that bottle, nor what a hold it had of me, 
 till I gave it up. Then I knew. I tell you, 
 schoolmaster, it was a pull. I never was one 
 of your boys. I left school before your time. 
 I'm glad you are raising the boys now, so they 
 won't get so slaved by a bottle as I was, with- 
 out knowing it. Well, I think the fight is done. 
 And it's made me more of a man. I said I 
 never drank to hurt. But now I know that 
 I've got clearer ideas, and a lighter feeling all 
 through me, and look ahead more for my chil- 
 dren, and enjoy myself more, and appreciate 
 'Liza Allen more, and set a better example to 
 Jerry, and am a decenter person for these little 
 shavers to hang 'round, since I gave up that bot- 
 tle. Yes, the boy, though he doesn't know it, 
 made a man of me." 
 
 " It was nobly done, liberally, generously done, 
 and it is written, ' The liberal soul shall be made 
 fat,' " said the schoolmaster. 
 
 And no doubt this was true to the Captain. 
 Certainly he was none the less happy, when he 
 and Eliza sat by the stove in the evening, each 
 one with a twin, to see three little white-arrayed 
 figures kneeling in a row by the trundle-bed, to 
 say, " Now I lay me."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE SUPERINTENDENT. 
 
 A WELL-KNOWN figure in the township of 
 Lai's Mountain was " Superintendent Murray." 
 He had come from New York to take charge 
 of the interests of several stock companies, and 
 was vaguely called "the Superintendent." The 
 Superintendent was looked up to as a rich man. 
 There were wonderful tales of the rapidity with 
 which he made money : the good fortune which 
 attended all his investments, the amount of 
 money which he laid up every week, which was 
 more than most of the people thereabouts laid 
 up in a year. Indeed, lucky was he in this 
 neighborhood who did not fall behind in his 
 finances each year. While looked up to for his 
 supposed riches, " the Superintendent " was 
 feared, and whispered about, as a man who 
 lived in a settled gloom, held himself apart 
 from people, scarcely spoke, except in the brief- 
 est terms on necessary business, and took no 
 interest in anything, not even in his own for- 
 tunes. 
 
 (86)
 
 The Superintendent. 87 
 
 The Superintendent was not yet a middle- 
 aged man ; but his hair was white, his shoulders 
 were listlessly bent, his face was wrinkled and 
 thin. He bore the marks of a man who had 
 been shipwrecked in some of the sharpest storms 
 of life. He was supposed to be a very learned 
 man ; he had books and long shelves of min- 
 erals, and the country people said that magic 
 witch-haze wands were as nothing compared to 
 that magic of learning, whereby " the Superin- 
 tendent" could read the surface of the soil, and 
 assay the rocks, and could tell what metals or 
 minerals might lie beneath the mosses and the 
 grasses, the hepaticas and the anemones. The 
 schoolmaster was the only person who had any- 
 thing approaching to an intimacy with " the 
 Superintendent." The ground of their acquaint- 
 ance was that the schoolmaster had studied the 
 county for twenty years, and knew every growth, 
 and every soil, and every rock that could be 
 found in it. Fie was passing wise as to coal 
 fields, measures, veins, deposits, and basins ; as 
 to ridges, troughs, dips, faults, beds, strata, splits, 
 flaws, axes, synclinals, monoclinals, verticals, 
 flexures, and anticlinals in fact, ordinary peo- 
 ple would need to have a Webster's unabridged 
 in hand, and a few Worcesters and Johnsons 
 for reference, if they wished to fully understand
 
 88 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 what " the Superintendent " and the schoolmas- 
 ter said, as they sat on a fallen tree, or a couple 
 of commodious boulders. 
 
 Both of these men loved nature : the school- 
 master loved nature for the pleasing satisfaction 
 of a curiosity, for filling up the gaps that occur- 
 red in his life, and for lifting him up above the 
 region of daily small cares and vexations. The 
 Superintendent loved nature as his last left re- 
 source, and that which saved him from insanity. 
 He could not endure the face of his fellow-men, 
 and the soothing of nature kept him from mad- 
 ness or suicide. In the winter, the Superintend- 
 ent went to Lacy, or to the solitude of one of 
 the great cities, where next to a desert a man 
 can be most alone. In the summer, he made 
 his headquarters in a little four-room chalet he 
 had built in the highest and woodiest part of 
 the mountain. There he was served by a deaf- 
 mute, of about twenty, who seemed useful, 
 contented, and fond of his master. " Would 
 you like to be deaf and dumb, Jerry ? " Robert 
 had asked, when he had seen this youth, and 
 been made to understand his condition. 
 
 " Well, I'll allow," said Jerry, " I'm uncom- 
 mon fond of wagging my tongue, but maybe 
 if I'd been born dumb, and so wasn't used to 
 talking, I could do very well without. You
 
 The Superintendent. 89 
 
 see, Robert, there's lots of advantages in being 
 deaf and dumb. There's two of the command- 
 ments you can't break the swearing command- 
 ment, and the lying one. And that's a help, 
 seeing humans finds it such a powerful strain on 
 'em to keep the commandments. Moreover, 
 you can't get yourself into trouble by speaking 
 ill of folks ; you can't make folks mad by sass- 
 ing them ; you can't listen to people's secrets, 
 and tell 'em. .Yes, Robert, I'll allow there's a 
 deal of good in being born deaf and dumb ; 
 only, when you are not born that way, you're 
 bound to be thankful according." 
 
 The occasion of these remarks was a July 
 afternoon, the second summer of Robert's living 
 at the mill. The place, oddly enough, was the 
 sitting-room of Mr. Murray's chalet, where 
 Jerry, Robert, and Pink were in full possession, 
 the tall deaf-mute standing in the doorway, and 
 regarding them with interest. How this hap- 
 pened was in this wise. Berries were abundant 
 on the mountain, and Mrs. 'Liza had arranged 
 that Jerry and the two children should go for 
 three days in succession to pick the berries. 
 Each night they came down with three well-filled 
 pails, and Mrs. 'Liza dried some of the fruit for 
 pies, and made the rest into jam for winter. 
 But on the afternoon of the third day the
 
 90 The Captain s Bargain. 
 
 astute Jerry beheld a fierce storm sweeping along 
 the gorges of the hills thunder roared, and 
 lightning played in the distance, and the storm 
 drew nearer. It was necessary to get the children 
 and the nearly filled pails into shelter. They 
 hurried along, and as the storm broke in fury, 
 they reached the oval clearing where stood Mr. 
 Murray's eyrie, and in hurried Jerry, dragging 
 his breathless charges. The Superintendent was 
 not at home. The mute made them welcome 
 by signs, and his silence had at once to be 
 explained by Jerry to the anxious Robert. 
 Just at this moment, the powerful beat, of a 
 horse's hoofs mingled with the roar of wind and 
 thunder, and the swirl of rain, and the Super- 
 intendent came tearing up the mountain road, 
 on his big roan. He flung himself upon the 
 little veranda, and the well-trained brute raced 
 'round to the open door of his stable. Mr. 
 Murray, to his surprise, found three big tin 
 pails full of berries standing under his long 
 table of geological specimens, a one-legged, 
 one-eyed boy sitting on the window-seat, and 
 in the middle of the floor, Robert and Pink, 
 standing hand in hand. For the first time since 
 it was built, the cottage had guests ! The mute 
 explained the situation to his master by signs. 
 Robert watched the performance eagerly. But
 
 The Superintendent. 91 
 
 with his native refinement he felt that permis- 
 sion to remain should be asked by the intruders 
 themselves. He walked up to Mr. Murray, 
 looked him straight in the eyes, and said : " I 
 hope you like us to be here. We would pretty 
 near drown out in the rain, you know." 
 
 " Yes, yes, child," began Mr. Murray, when 
 there was a tremendous peal of thunder that 
 shook the cottage. Pink gave a wild scream, 
 but Robert set his lips and stood like a young 
 hero. He braced his little body for the onset 
 Pink made upon him, folded his arms about 
 her, hid her face in his small jacket, and said 
 valiantly, " Never mind, Pink ! I won't let it 
 hurt you ! I'll take care of you, Pink ! Noth- 
 ing can hurt you when I'm holding you." 
 
 "Whose children are these?" asked Mr. 
 Murray. 
 
 " Cap'n Allen's," said Jerry. " I'm the Cap'n's 
 Hands." 
 
 " Yes ; I've seen you before, at the mill. Well, 
 that is a fine boy ! So you are not afraid, my 
 little fellow ? " 
 
 Robert looked at him with a fine expression 
 of pride. 
 
 " Mens is never afraid. Womens is afraid, 
 but not mens. I always take care of Pink." 
 
 Mr. Murray sat down and beckoned the chil-
 
 92 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 dren to him. He took a hand of each. Rob- 
 ert's hands were reddened with berry juice, and 
 thoroughly scratched. Pink's were red, so was 
 her mouth but her scratches were few. " I 
 think," said Mr. Murray, " that you have picked 
 most of your sister's berries for her." 
 
 " Oh, well, Pink's little. And then Pink did 
 put some in the pail," said Robert. 
 
 " And more in her mouth. But nearly all 
 yours went into the pail." 
 
 " We want to take such a lot down to mother. 
 We eat so much jam. Next winter we shall eat 
 loads of jam, for the t'ins is getting big enough 
 to have it." 
 
 Robert was losing some of his crooked speech, 
 but to him " the t'ins " long remained " the t'ins." 
 
 11 How many are there of you?" asked Mr. 
 Murray. 
 
 Robert counted on his fingers, " Father, moth- 
 er, Jerry, Pink, me, Bop, one t'in, 'nother t'in, 
 six." 
 
 Mr. Murray sighed. 
 
 "Haven't you any little boys and gells?" 
 asked Robert gently. 
 
 Mr. Murray shook his head, and looked 
 gloomily at the storm. 
 
 " When we went down in the barge this 
 summer," said Robert, " I saw lots of very
 
 The Superintendent. 93 
 
 pretty little boys and gells in the street and 
 they had rags, and nobody looked any care of 
 them, and they was so poor why don't you go 
 and buy some of them ?" 
 
 Mr. Murray shook his head. 
 
 " Haven't you any money?" asked Robert, 
 timidly. " When father don't get things, it is 
 because he hasn't any money. I'm going to 
 sell some berries next week, to Mrs. Britt, and 
 all the eggs of my little hen, and I'm going to 
 pay father's mortgage with it. A mortgage, you 
 know, is a a big worm that eats holes in the 
 wood of our house and and it has to be paid 
 to stop only Jerry has seen a woodpecker " 
 he hesitated, reading unqualified amazement in 
 his host's sad gray eyes. He looked anxiously 
 toward Jerry. " Jerry, I hope you only told me 
 what's so for for I believe you, Jerry." 
 
 " Yes," said Jerry, " I told you what is so 
 only as you may say, I put it in parables, and 
 I'll allow I've made a mess of it." 
 
 " It is all right, I understand," said Mr. Murray, 
 passing his hand slowly over Robert's brown 
 curls, which were 'Liza's pride. The good wom- 
 an would have sat up nights to make time to 
 dress Robert's beautiful hair, rather than shear 
 her little Samson. 
 
 " This is a beautiful house," said Robert ;
 
 94 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " our house has only two rooms in it. Jerry 
 has a little room off the shop. We are pretty 
 snug, father says, but when he gets rich he will 
 build a house. Bop and me we has a trundle- 
 bed in the kitchen, and Pink and the t'ins has a 
 trundle-bed in the other room ; and father made 
 the trundle-beds, and he says he don't mind, 
 he'd as lief make six. I don't know where he'd 
 stand six, do you, Jerry ? " But Jerry had 
 quietly rolled out of the window, and gone to 
 the extremity of the veranda Robert's appeals 
 were too personal. 
 
 " This house has very pretty things," said 
 Robert ; " may we look at your things ? Then 
 I can tell mother how pretty they are." 
 
 "Certainly," said Mr. Murray, and leaning 
 back in his chair, he spread his kerchief over 
 his face, as if asleep. Robert passed slowly 
 about the room, and then through the open 
 door into the next room. He held Pink by 
 the hand, and looked with smiling interest at 
 the various little conveniences, and ornaments, 
 and instruments which were new to him. He 
 not only did not touch anything, but he did not 
 even stand very near any object, and if Pink so 
 much as held out a small dimpled finger in ad- 
 miration, he repressed her, by pressing her hand 
 down, and saying, " Don't touch, Pink."
 
 The Superintendent. 95 
 
 All at once Mr. Murray sprung up, and made 
 a dash into the room where they were. " The 
 gun is loaded ! I was afraid you might handle 
 it ! " he exclaimed, in answer to Robert's look of 
 question. 
 
 " It's your gun. We wouldn't touch your 
 things, you know," said Robert. 
 
 " You are a well-brought-up child," said Mr. 
 Murray, and going into another room he came 
 back with a tray of bread and butter, cold 
 tongue, jelly, milk, the various products of his 
 mute's housekeeping, and sat down with the 
 children for a luncheon. Robert ate his rather 
 uneasily, and his big brown eyes rolled toward 
 Jerry's corner of the veranda. Mr. Murray 
 filled a plate and took it to Jerry, and then 
 Robert's content seemed complete. 
 
 When the storm was over, Mr. Murray had 
 his horse brought round and mounted it, taking 
 Robert on one knee and Pink on the other, to 
 carry them down the mountain. When they 
 were nearly down, they met Captain Allen 
 coming up. 
 
 " I was away," he said, " and as soon as I got 
 back I hurried after them ; the missis is in a 
 great state, though Jerry is good as gold." He 
 held up his arms and Mr. Murray gave him 
 Pink ; then, much more reluctantly, he handed
 
 96 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 over Robert. " I envy you that little man," he 
 said. " How old is he ? " 
 
 " About six. Aren't you, Robert ? " 
 
 Robert nodded. He was any age they chose 
 to make him. 
 
 A week or so later, Mr. Murray and the 
 schoolmaster were sitting on a log not far from 
 the mill. The Superintendent was waiting for 
 Captain Allen ; he had come to order a few 
 boards, and had fallen in with the schoolmaster. 
 
 " If you do not wish to wait," said the master, 
 " speak to Mrs. Allen. She is the real head of 
 the business ; she does all the measuring and cal- 
 culating, and tells 'Zekiel what bargains to make. 
 The Captain is the poorest possible hand at 
 figures." 
 
 " I don't mind waiting," said the Superintend- 
 ent. " It is worth while to see that boy play. 
 With what a will he goes at it, and takes the 
 other children all into his games, even to those 
 two babies sitting in the little cart. He is a 
 splendid child. I envy Captain Allen." 
 
 " And, no doubt, in some respects, he envies 
 you. He is burdened with debts, and one mis- 
 fortune after another prevents his making any 
 headway. No doubt he thinks you a very for- 
 tunate man. All do about here." 
 
 " I should think they would know better if
 
 The Superintendent. 97 
 
 they look at me," said the Superintendent, 
 touching: his white hair and lined face. " Arc 
 
 o 
 
 these the footprints of joy ? " 
 
 " People struggling with poverty are apt to 
 measure happiness by wealth," said the master. 
 " I don't think Allen does." 
 
 " He need not. He has a wife and children, 
 and a home." 
 
 "And you have none ?" ventured the school- 
 master. 
 
 Mr. Murray shook his head. 
 
 " You are young yet," said the master ; " all 
 these possibilities are open to you. I do not 
 know but the man who can maintain a family, 
 owes it to the good of his age and of his country 
 to raise such a family." 
 
 " I had," said Mr. Murray, " a wife and child. 
 I lost them. I cannot reconstruct a home on 
 the grave of the past. When I stood by my 
 wife's coffin, I knew that all for me had ended. 
 Since then I do not live, I exist." 
 
 The schoolmaster was not of those who offer 
 idle words to sorrow. He knew how to be 
 silent. 
 
 "That child that boy recalls to me what 
 my child might have been. And so, I have 
 spoken. It is not my way to speak. He was 
 at my house the other day, and since then I have
 
 98 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 thought, day and night, how full my life might 
 have been of energy and hope and joy, if I had 
 such a son. Since I lost mine, fate, as if in 
 irony, has given me money instead of wife and 
 child. I gather carelessly, without interest in it. 
 I invest heedlessly, as one who does not care to 
 prosper, and while the eager and the needy lose, 
 I gain. I gain money which I neither need, nor 
 use, nor desire, nor rejoice in. There is a verse 
 in the Scripture : ' There is one alone, and there 
 is not a second ; yea, he hath neither child nor 
 brother ; yet there is no end of all his labor ; 
 neither is his eye satisfied with riches ; neither 
 saith he, for whom do I labor, and bereave my 
 soul of good ? This also is vanity, yea, it is also 
 a sore travail.' ' 
 
 " You might, at least, have the satisfac 
 tion of doing good with it," said the school 
 master. 
 
 " I might, but I suppose I am of a selfish na- 
 ture. I only care to lavish on what is my own, 
 on what I love." 
 
 " You can, perhaps, cultivate a wider love," 
 said the master. " Such has grown in me. I 
 am willing now to spend my thought and care 
 ror these people. They and all their interests 
 are dear to me. My pupils are my children." 
 . Mr. Murray shook his head.
 
 The Superintendent. 99 
 
 " ' You speak that never had a child.' Still, 
 you labor to more profit than I do. You deal 
 with hearts and brains ; I deal with stones. 
 Schoolmaster ! Whatever you do, teach your 
 pupils temperance ! Day by day teach it, preach 
 it, commend it, weave it with every lesson, build 
 it into the very fabric of their brains. If you 
 leave that untaught, you spend your labor for 
 that which satisfieth not ! " 
 
 Mr. Murray rose, and stood before the sur 
 prised schoolmaster. 
 
 " I have heard that Allen drank once. When 
 that child comes into your school, teach him 
 temperance day by day. Render it impossible 
 that the demon of intemperance may ever curse 
 and blight a child of so much promise ! Here 
 am I I had good birth, good breeding, educa- 
 tion, fortune, friends, family, home, hope, hap- 
 piness I stand here before you, scorched and 
 blasted, ruined, hopeless, miserable. All because 
 when they taught me so many other things they 
 failed to teach me temperance. I have learned 
 it too late, when all is lost. What good is it 
 now to hate and loathe and reprobate the devil 
 that drove me to destruction ? Save your boys, 
 schoolmaster ; and, above all, save this boy of 
 Allen's ! " 
 
 He turned, and began to hurry away.
 
 ioo The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " Come back, you have not seen Captain 
 Allen ! " cried the schoolmaster. 
 
 But the Superintendent paid no heed to him. 
 He plunged into the woods, and as he went he 
 thrust into his breast-pocket a handful of wild 
 asters that Robert had picked for him.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE SCHOOLMASTER. 
 
 THE Superintendent never resumed the con- 
 fidence he had begun to the schoolmaster, as 
 they sat near the mill. As it was the first, so 
 it was the last unveiling of his inner life. It 
 had been one of those sudden expansions of 
 which even the most reticent of natures now 
 and again feel the need and of which they 
 always repent. The Superintendent shut him- 
 self up in greater reserve than ever. 
 
 But the schoolmaster did not forget. He 
 had been very greatly surprised, and he often 
 recurred to what the Superintendent had spoken. 
 Mr. Murray bore none of the physical or men- 
 tal marks of a man that had ever indulged in in- 
 toxicants. In what way had the fiery breath of 
 the demon swept over him, and seared and blast- 
 ed all his life ? 
 
 But while making no more revelations of 
 himself, Mr. Murray did not relax his interest 
 in Robert. The child fascinated him. Instead 
 of going to his lonely cottage by a bridle-path 
 
 (101)
 
 IO2 The Captain s Bargain. 
 
 which few ever traversed, he now went and 
 came by the road which passed the mill. He 
 always stopped and spoke to Robert, and often 
 took the boy up before him, and let him have 
 a ride, even going several times up and down 
 the same quarter of a mile, that the child's ride 
 might be longer. This was fine. But Robert's 
 joy was modified by the fact that while he rode 
 away in state, like a Prince in a Fairy Tale, 
 Pink and Bop and the twins were left on com- 
 mon ground, and often roaring lustily. That 
 was more than he could stand. 
 
 " I likes the ride," he said, finally, looking 
 Mr. Murray squarely in the face, as was his 
 wont in speaking. " But, I guess, I'd better 
 stay on the ground, with them." 
 
 " Why cannot you have your ride in peace, 
 even if they are crying?" said the Superin- 
 tendent. 
 
 Robert lifted his steadfast gaze to the speak- 
 er's face. " Because, I loves "em," he said simply. 
 
 Such love as this Mr. Murray thought would 
 be well worth the winning. The possession of 
 a child like Robert would add a joy to life, and 
 make it a pleasant thing to live. To gain Rob- 
 ert's love he redoubled his attentions. He 
 brought the child presents. First, a pocket full 
 of bright marbles. Those were kept in a drawer,
 
 The Schoolmaster. 103 
 
 and only looked at and handled occasionally. 
 Because if the boy played with them on the 
 floor, Bop and the twins might be choked in 
 ineffectual efforts to eat them. Next lie re- 
 ceived a beautiful red and green ball, of India- 
 rubber. But Bop flung that into the creek, 
 and it went bobbing away down the stream, 
 like some bright little buoy that had drifted 
 from its anchorage. Often Mr. Murray stooped 
 from his horse to put candies, apples; oranges, 
 picture-books into Robert's uplifted hands. 
 
 The men who were driving a wagon for the 
 Superintendent, left one day at the mill a splen- 
 did rocking-horse, with red and gilt caparisons 
 and flowing tail. When winter came, there came 
 also a handsome red sled, with a big blue R upon 
 it. Jerry made a box for this sled, and Robert 
 was more than happy dragging Pink and Bop 
 about in the snow. Christmas brought a blue 
 cap with a gilt cord, a pair of mittens with fur 
 tops, and a fur collar. The congregation at the 
 school-house said it was " clean extravagance 
 the way 'Zekiel Allen dressed out that boy." 
 But, in fact, Captain Ezekiel would have been 
 better pleased if the gifts had not come. In 
 his secret heart he hoped that by spring Mr. 
 Murray would have lost his interest in the long- 
 unseen Robert.
 
 IO4 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 But spring brought back Mr. Murray and 
 with him a soldier's outfit a drum, sash, sword, 
 trumpet, and toy gun for Robert. There was 
 not an item for any of the others ; but that did 
 not matter, for Pink pounded the drum, and 
 Bop blew the trumpet, and Robert made flags 
 for each of the twins to carry, and the joyful 
 procession marched up and down before the 
 mill, deploying, wheeling, right flank ! left 
 flank ! fdrward, march ! charge ! in grand style. 
 They were very happy with the new toys, but 
 Captain 'Zekiel felt a jealous suspicion of them. 
 It was not that his own children got none oh, 
 r.o ; but that the presents were evidently meant 
 to bribe the love of Robert. 
 
 " The Superintendent is rich," he said one 
 evening when Robert rushed in, triumphant, 
 waving a "Jack the Giant-Killer" with glaring 
 pictures. " He can give you more than I can." 
 
 " But he isn't you, father !" said Robert, dis- 
 cerning with prescient love the secret pain, and 
 slipping in between the Captain's knees and 
 1 -aning back on his breast, " he's only another 
 i.ian." 
 
 " Aye, but he wants to make you love him 
 i lore than you do us," said the jealous Captain. 
 " If he had you up to his house he could give 
 you a pocket full of trinkets every day."
 
 The Schoolmaster. 105 
 
 f 
 
 " But he couldn't give me Pink," said Robert, 
 " and he didn't make my trundle-bed ; you did." 
 
 " I see," said Mrs. 'Liza, sewing with tenfold 
 energy. " The Superintendent wants to take 
 Robert from us." 
 
 " But he couldn't ! " -cried Robert. " You 
 wouldn't let him, mother ! You won't let him 
 have me or Pink or Bop, or any of us ! " 
 
 For the time had not only passed when Rob- 
 ert feared that he would be sent away, but he 
 had now no realizing sense that he belonged to 
 the household any less than Pink an-d the others. 
 And it had faded out of his mind that Captain 
 'Zekiel had found him, a forlorn, weeping stray, 
 abandoned by a tramp, on the roadside. He 
 realized, however, that the Captain and Eliza 
 were jealous of the attentions and caresses of 
 Mr. Murray, and that made him more shy with 
 the Superintendent. He did not now always run 
 out with a shout of welcome when he heard the 
 hoofs of the tall roan. He could not be less 
 than gracious and attractive, for that was his 
 nature, but Mr. Murray saw that he made no 
 progress with the child. The Superintendent 
 had a disposition that demanded all or nothing. 
 If Robert had learned to love him more than 
 any one else, had been willing to go away and live 
 with him, and never return to his home at the
 
 io6 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 mill, that would have pleased Mr. Murray. He 
 would not have considered that such an abandon- 
 ment of his family argued a less steadfast and 
 faithful nature than it would be good to see. 
 He wondered at his own craving fondness for 
 Robert. He said to himself, and once or twice 
 at the mill to Captain Allen, " That boy ought 
 to be mine"; " If I had that boy I'd do well by 
 him "; " If I had a son he would be like that." 
 When, the next summer, he used to meet Rob- 
 ert and Pink trudging to the red school-house, 
 Robert carrying the little lunch-basket and the 
 books of both, never thinking of asking Pink to 
 carry anything, Mr. Murray would indulge in a 
 dream about if the boy were his what he would 
 do for him, what an education he would give 
 him, what heights he might gain. He could not 
 resist the temptation of stopping now and then 
 at the school-house to hear Robert read, which 
 he did with notably less sing-song than the other 
 children, or to see him " spell down " his class in 
 words of four or five letters ; or even to hear him 
 " speak a piece " on Wednesday afternoons. 
 
 " That is a very bright child," he said to the 
 schoolmaster ; " quite worth teaching. He is 
 worth all the rest of the lot put together." 
 
 And Mr. Murray glanced with indifference at 
 the other pupils. He was not one of those who
 
 The Schoolmaster. 107 
 
 regard with respect and interest the young heir 
 of immortality wherever found. The school- 
 master rather resented this undervaluing of his 
 other neophytes. 
 
 " They are all nice children," he said, " honest, 
 kindly, industrious. Some of those who seem 
 most slow have very good minds, and are of 
 those that will be heard of. Out of just such red 
 school-houses, off just such blue benches as mine, 
 have come some of our noblest, wisest, most 
 useful, most famous men." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I know," said Mr. Murray, " but 
 this boy is a jewel. I wonder how he comes to 
 be so different from the rest of Allen's children. 
 Allen is a huge, roughly-built, sandy-haired man ; 
 his wife a small, dark, black-eyed, wiry woman. 
 Little Pink is a pretty child, quite the best you 
 could expect from her parents. Bop and the 
 twins are downright homely little youngsters. 
 But look at Robert. See how well he is made ; 
 see how he carries his head, and see those curls. 
 I respect Mrs. Allen for not being such a vandal 
 as to cut them off. See what lovely eyes : I 
 have seen such eyes long ago. What refined 
 features. Schoolmaster, you study such things. 
 What blood has cropped out here ? Why is the 
 boy so different from his family ? " 
 
 *' The explanation just here is plain and
 
 io8 The Captairis Bargain. 
 
 easy," said the schoolmaster. " The boy is not 
 like the family, because he does not belong to 
 the family. A poor woman a drunken woman, 
 I believe died down here in Lacy, and left the 
 ( hild to her family, who were too poor to take 
 i are of him, and so Captain Allen, who found 
 him crying as they were taking him to the poor- 
 1 ouse, took pity on him, and adopted him, and 
 l.e is bound to him until he is twenty-one." 
 
 The schoolmaster was a man of veracity, and 
 supposed he was telling the exact truth. But 
 it was now three years since the incidents oc- 
 curred which he endeavored to narrate, and 
 they had nearly passed from his mind, and were 
 also mingled with the various gossipping ver- 
 sions of the neighborhood. It was thus he 
 garbled Robert's simple story. 
 
 " An adoption !" cried Mr. Murray. " Such 
 a child as that in want of a home, going a-beg- 
 ging for a family ! Why wasn't I the one to 
 pass by as he was going to the poorhouse ? I 
 might have had him ! I could have done more 
 for him than Allen. Why was it not my luck 
 to get him ? That is just my fortune ; money, 
 only money not the child and I might have 
 had him, if I had been the one to pass by." 
 
 The schoolmaster felt pretty sure that if Mr. 
 Murray had been the' one to hear Robert's in-
 
 The Schoolmaster. 109 
 
 fant wails, he would very likely have not been the 
 one to heed. He might not have noticed at all, 
 or he might have said, why did not some of the 
 women do for him ? or he would have thought 
 it was the county's duty to see to him. Now 
 that the child was grown strong and handsome, 
 and well-ordered, he wanted him. 
 
 " But your question of heredity is not solved," 
 said the schoolmaster. " It is much less strange, 
 that a frank, generous, kindly little man like 
 that, should be the son of Captain Allen and 
 Eliza, than that he should be the child of some 
 degraded, drunken beggar. The truth about 
 Robert's heredity is even more puzzling than 
 you supposed it to be." 
 
 " It passes comprehension," said the Super- 
 intendent ; " and, if he is the child of a drunken 
 mother, it is only more instantly necessary that 
 you remember my words to you, schoolmaster, 
 and teach him temperance. What a cruel 
 shame, if owing to some inherited thirst, that 
 beautiful boy should fall under the curse of the 
 age. Are you teaching him temperance ?" 
 
 " Yes ; I am teaching them all temperance," 
 said the schoolmaster. And so he was, in his 
 own fashion. 
 
 Mr. Murray happened to look in at the 
 school-house window, one afternoon, just as one
 
 1 10 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 of these lessons was being given, and he re- 
 mained, an auditor, until it was finished. 
 
 The schoolmaster, with the savings of two 
 laborious years, had treated himself to a fine 
 large microscope. This instrument, in its ma- 
 hogany case, occupied a place of honor on a 
 side table. It was a world of wonder, a more 
 than Aladdin's lamp to the children, who looked 
 with joy to the occasions when the schoolmaster 
 revealed to their wondering gaze its enchant- 
 ments. Whenever the schoolmaster took a lit- 
 tle key from his vest-pocket, and approached 
 the sacred altar, where reposed the marvel, the 
 children stowed their books under the blue desks, 
 and fairly held their breath with expectation. 
 Any one of them might have the honor of being 
 summoned as officiating acolyte of the occasion. 
 
 On this afternoon the schoolmaster had a 
 bowl of water and some small green weeds from 
 the nearest pond. He put some of the green 
 plant in a large, clear glass. As it floated, the 
 children coming near to look, one by one, saw 
 that the plant seemed supplied with minute 
 green sacs filled with air. 
 
 " Now take your seats," said the master. " This 
 is called a bladder-plant, from these wee green 
 bladders, whereby it floats. Listen, and Nathan 
 will tell you what he sees. Nathan, come forward."
 
 The Schoolmaster. in 
 
 Nathan came gladly. 
 
 " Now, tell us what you see in the water, 
 Nathan." 
 
 " I see little live things ; some have little shells 
 on them like muscles, only they look about as 
 big as tiny pin-heads. Some have little whirl- 
 ing wheels on their heads. A good many are 
 like very, very wee caterpillars." 
 
 " Those last are the water-bears," said the 
 schoolmaster. " Now look at the bladder-plant." 
 
 "The bladders," said Nathan," are little bags. 
 Their mouths are open. They are set round 
 with hairs. Some of the bags look full of some- 
 thing, and dark. Some of them seem to have 
 some live thing kicking in them. Some are 
 empty, and as you look in at the door it is like a 
 little clear green room. O ! I see a water-bear 
 swimming up to one ! He looks in. He seems 
 to think it is pretty. I guess he wants to know 
 what is inside. Now he swims to one of the bags 
 where there is something kicking. He looks in 
 there. Now he goes to an empty one. Now he 
 swims by. No; he changes his mind. Hethinkshe 
 will go in. He pokes in his head. The little hairs 
 at the door bend inward, they let him go in easy. 
 He is in! Oh, now he is trying to come out!" 
 
 Great excitement in the listening school, eyes 
 wide open, heads bent forward.
 
 112 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " Can he get out ?" cried some one. 
 
 " No ! no ! he can't," exclaimed Nathan, all 
 eager. "The hairs bend in and let him in, but 
 he cannot get by them to go out ! They won't 
 bend out. Oh, he can't get out." 
 
 The schoolmaster now took one of the dark 
 full sacs, cut it open with a very fine sharp in- 
 strument, and put it under the glass. 
 
 " Now what, Nathan ?" 
 
 " Oh, that bag is full of dead things, of what 
 you might call the bones of these bits of crea- 
 tures, the shells off one of those tiny things like 
 muscles. They are things that have gone in, 
 and have got all melted up." 
 
 " Here is another," said the schoolmaster, put- 
 ting a lighter green sac in place, also cut open. 
 " What now ? " 
 
 " That is the very sac the water-bear looked 
 into to see something kicking. The kicking 
 thing was another water-bear. Now it is 
 dead. The one that went in just now is kick- 
 ing too." 
 
 The schoolmaster took that sac, also, opened 
 it, and released the struggling water-bear. 
 
 " What now,.Nathan ? " 
 
 " He is out, but he doesn't feel good. He 
 doesn't swim round as he did before he went in. I 
 think he is going to die, schoolmaster. Oh, here
 
 The Schoolmaster. 113 
 
 is another bear just going into a sac. Let him out 
 quick, won't you ? " 
 
 The schoolmaster opened the sac, and the 
 f:-..'cd little animal swam off. 
 
 " He got out, right off, and nothing but him," 
 said Nathan. " Schoolmaster, isn't it queer that 
 when they look in and see the dead ones, and 
 the bones and skins, or see other ones caught 
 and kicking, and can't get out, that they don't 
 learn better than to go in themselves ? I should 
 think they'd have sense to keep out ! " 
 
 " People do not have sense to keep out, when 
 the circumstances are just about the same. Now, 
 all of you children, listen. You know what 
 Nathan has told you of these little, gay palace- 
 rooms where the doors open in, and not out, and 
 the things which swim by seem curious to know 
 what is inside. Some of these gay places hold 
 struggling captives ; others are full of the relics 
 of the dead. Now, that is a little parable to 
 you. Let the little green sacs stand for places 
 where strong drink is sold. Those who enter 
 such places form the drinking habit, and then 
 they cannot get free of it. Persons, yet free, 
 look into these dens for drinking. They see in 
 them people all ragged, dirty, poor, unhappy, 
 bloated, crazy, sick, wrecked and ruined victims 
 of the habit. They see yet others, who mourn
 
 ii4 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 that they are enslaved, who have a sense of 
 shame and danger, and struggle to get rid of the 
 appetite that makes prisoners of them, and will 
 destroy them. In this little plant, when the 
 little animals get into the sacs, the plant melts 
 up their bodies, and seems to suck up their juice 
 and feed on it, until nothing is left but the fine 
 bony parts. So the unhappy person who goes 
 into a grog-shop finds that the dealer feeds on 
 him until his health and happiness and money 
 and respectability are all gone, and perhaps 
 nothing is left of him but the poor body that is 
 ready for the potter's field. Is it not strange 
 that when we see how many persons are utterly 
 ruined by drink, any of us will venture into 
 places where drink is sold, and will even our- 
 selves begin to taste the fatal liquor ? Why are 
 we not warned by seeing our friends and com- 
 panions who were once safe and happy, now 
 struggling in the snare of drunkenness ? You 
 saw how, when I let one of those water-bears out 
 of the prison he had walked into, it was too late, 
 to do him much good. He was free, but he died 
 because he had been poisoned thoroughly before 
 he got out. So, there are some who, by some 
 strong efforts, are rescued at last from strong 
 drink, but not until their health and property 
 have been destroyed, and they can never again
 
 The Schoolmaster. 115 
 
 be the people that once they were. Then, I let 
 one little water-bear out so soon that he was in 
 a little time as safe and well as before. I wonder 
 if he will take warning, and never go into such 
 a trap again ? Whenever you see a place for 
 selling whiskey, I want you to think of the little 
 water-bears and other water creatures which 
 enter the snares of the bladder-plant. Now, 
 Nathan, last night I saw you and Sam, when 
 you had been sent on an errand to the store, 
 stop at the door of the cross-roads tavern, and 
 finally step into the bar-room to see what was 
 going on." 
 
 " But, schoolmaster ! we never touched a 
 drop ! " cried Nathan and Sam, turning very red. 
 
 " I know it, I watched. If one of you had 
 so much as held out a hand toward a glass of 
 beer, or any liquor, I should have dragged you 
 out, and I don't know but I should have given 
 you a whipping then and there. Now, why 
 should you venture into such a place when you 
 know some men about here are poor, ruined, 
 miserable wrecks, all from beginning, by looking 
 in, then going in, then tasting, then drinking 
 more and more ? Why, when you see one or 
 t\vo young men hereabouts, caught in this snare, 
 lamenting it, trying to reform, succeeding, fail- 
 ing, will you venture on the beginning of such
 
 n6 T/ie Cap fains Bargain, 
 
 a way ? Remember what came of the curiosity 
 of the water-bear. Remember, the doors of the 
 bladder-plant open in but not out. It is easy 
 enough to get in, but it takes a miracle to get 
 out. Now, Nathan and Sam, stand one on 
 each end of the platform, while you and the 
 whole school learn this verse that I write on the 
 board. ' Blessed is the man that walketh not 
 in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in 
 the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the 
 scornful.' Do you see what that means? You 
 are not to go walking about where you will see 
 wickedness, you are not to stand to look on and 
 be amused by wickedness ; and then you will 
 not be likely to be sitting down to take a share 
 in wicked doings." 
 
 It was not only in the school-room that the 
 master gave his moral lessons. He was mucii 
 with his pupils out of doors. Many a ramble 
 they took with him, and many an hour did 
 he spend, sitting on a fence and chatting to 
 them, as they worked in the gardens. He could 
 find on every hand some theme for pertinent 
 and profitable remark. 
 
 Mrs. Britt's two grandsons were weeding her 
 vegetable-beds one Saturday, and Pink and Rob- 
 ert stood looking on. The schoolmaster was 
 sitting on the gate-post. " Robert," he said,
 
 The Schoolmaster. 117 
 
 
 
 " bring me that branch which hangs out near 
 your shoulder." 
 
 Robert carefully broke off the little branch 
 in question. 
 
 "Do you see these curled-up leaves?" said 
 the schoolmaster, pointing to some leaves rolled 
 together until they hung like little long purses. 
 
 The boys looked at these little leaf-bags. 
 
 " Do you see," said the master, " there is a 
 tiny caterpillar in each one. He has made 
 this nest for himself, by spinning lines of silk 
 across the leaf, from edge to edge. By 
 shortening the lines he has bent the leaf, until 
 the edges come together. Thus he has a neat 
 little silk-lined house. Look at the way in 
 which he has made a cover or roof ; would you 
 think so humble a creature had such ingenuity? 
 He has bitten a line nearly across, below the tip 
 of the leaf, and so it has bent downward, and 
 he is shielded from dew, sun, and rain. But, 
 now look at this." The master held out two or 
 three purses, where the carefully-made green 
 roof had been eaten up, and only the dry mid- 
 vein left. " These caterpillars, after so much 
 care in constructing a home with a roof, are 
 given, oddly enough, to eating their roofs. 
 They lie in their nests and gnaw off the roof, 
 Then they are exposed to heat and wet. Their
 
 1 1 8 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 home is spoiled. Now, Robert, look at this 
 other branch." 
 
 " Oh ! that is queerer still ! " cried Robert. 
 " Here are purse houses, that have been all 
 gnawed away, and the poor little caterpillars 
 have only a few dry threads to cover them. 
 They lie on the stems, as if they felt very badly. 
 Their homes are more worn out than our mill," 
 added Robert, with a sigh. 
 
 " Now, this is another kind of caterpillar, 
 and it not only eats its roof, but it eats all its 
 house. It constructs it carefully, of a silk-lined 
 leaf and then destroys it. It is now turned out 
 to the weather, and by this time it is getting per- 
 haps old and weary in its caterpillar life, and al- 
 most ready to go into its next, or pupa state, 
 and it is too late to build another snug home." 
 
 " What a fool it is ! " said Tom Britt. " Th* 
 idea of taking pains to build a nice house, and 
 then turning yourself out of it by eating it 
 up!" 
 
 " Did you never see men act just so?" said 
 the master. " Many an one have I known, who 
 has built up a pleasant home and has then 
 drunk the roof from over his head or drunk 
 up his whole home. Many a homeless drunk- 
 ard is homeless because he has drunk up furni- 
 ture, house, and fields. I have known men to
 
 The Schoolmaster, 1 1 9 
 
 swallow big houses and little gardens and farms 
 indeed the entire product of years of industry. 
 
 " Look at these caterpillars again. When they 
 are young and growing, they cast their skins, 
 coming out of the old skin that is too small, as 
 the chick comes out of the shell. The first 
 thing they do, is to turn about and eat the cast- 
 off skin ! That is all right ; and may be useful 
 for a caterpillar. But, I have known men to 
 drink up the clothes off their own backs, and 
 the entire wardrobe of their family. That is 
 not well for a man. Now, boys, whenever you 
 see caterpillars, remember what I have told 
 you, and that he who begins to drink is very 
 likely to go on, until he commits the folly of 
 drinking up all that he has. The Scripture says, 
 ' The drunkard and the glutton shall come to 
 poverty.' ' 
 
 One day when the children came to school, 
 they saw in a jar on the master's table, a queer 
 green and red plant, which had its leaves grow- 
 ing doubled together in the form of pitchers. 
 They were pretty little pitchers indeed. The 
 seam where the edges joined, and the rims 
 of the pitchers, were yellow ; the inside of 
 the pitcher's throat was spotted with red and 
 yellow. 
 
 " What are these ? " said the schoolmaster.
 
 I2O The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " They are pitcher-plants ; you got 'em at the 
 swamp," said Tom. 
 
 " Now look you, boys," said the master, " each 
 one of these pretty pitchers is a deceitful tavern. 
 This is the fly's tavern, where he comes to grief. 
 Do you see these gay red and yellow colors ? 
 These are like signs and colored-glass windows, 
 and all manner of ornaments, to lure customers 
 toward the tavern. All up that yellow line is a 
 sweet juice in little drops. The flies are enticed 
 to the plant by the color, then they take a taste 
 of the sweet dew on the line of yellow. It tastes 
 nice, and they go on eating. That is as the su- 
 gar and spices and ice and lemons, and so on, 
 that are mixed with the drinks to beguile peo- 
 ple to grow fond of them. Well, up the pitcher 
 the flies go, sipping, sipping, and so, before they 
 know it, they are over the brim ! Well, what 
 then ? Why, these pitchers are full of another 
 kind of juice. If you taste it, you will find it 
 has a biting, stinging taste. And that juice 
 makes the poor flies giddy and drunk. As 
 soon as they sip it, they fall forward on their 
 heads. If you take them out when they have 
 had some of it, they fall about and soon die, un- 
 less their taste has been very little indeed. The 
 juice in the pitcher makes the flies act just like 
 drunken men. They fall around, and do not
 
 The Schoolmaster. 121 
 
 know what they are doing, and cannot help 
 themselves. And so they drown in the liquo 
 stored up in the pretty pitcher, the deceitfu 
 tavern plant. You will see in these pitcher; 
 dozens of dead insects. The cruel tavern melti 
 up their substance and feeds upon it." 
 
 Then the schoolmaster passed the pitcher- 
 plants about, and the children saw for them- 
 selves the two kinds of juice and the dead flies. 
 
 On another day he showed them the gay little 
 sundews, which with red rays and sweet honey- 
 drops, attract small insects, and so entangle 
 them in a sticky fluid, and pierce their bodies, 
 and hold them fast, and suck up all their juices 
 to feed the plant. 
 
 Such were some of the lessons of the school- 
 master.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " MR. MURRAY MAKES AN OFFER." 
 
 1 ii e information that Robert was only the 
 adopted child of Captain Ezekiel Allen, stimu- 
 lated the desire of the Superintendent to possess 
 him. The day might come when the Aliens 
 could he persuaded to give him up. Or, some 
 day the boy might be brought to realize the ad- 
 vantages he could receive as the adopted son of 
 the rich man, and so elect to forsake his poorer 
 foster-pa -'ents. Mr. Murray was a man of long 
 ideas : hh could plan far off toward an end. He 
 continued his kindness to Robert, saw him 
 whenever he could, and carefully acquainted 
 himself w\ ;h Captain Allen's affairs. 
 
 The six weeks each summer when the Aliens 
 were awa> on the barge Fair- Weather were 
 long and tedious weeks to Mr. Murray ; he 
 pined for a sight of Robert's handsome face. 
 
 His presents continued. Robert had the best 
 knife of any boy in the school. He had a nice 
 little pocket-book, though in truth it was sel- 
 dom that he had more than a cent in it for 
 
 (122)
 
 "Mr. Murray makes an Offer." 123 
 
 Mr. Murray never gave him money. Money 
 was to be the culminating bribe to the growing 
 lad, who had been taught, by want, to know its 
 worth. Robert had a box of pens and pencils ; 
 he had a book-strap ; he might have had a hand- 
 some suit of clothes. 
 
 " If you will come with me to Lacy, my lad," 
 said the Superintendent, " I'll buy you a new 
 suit, all blue cloth and gilt buttons." 
 
 But Robert shook his head resolutely. 
 
 " What's the matter ? Don't you want new 
 clothes ? " 
 
 " No, sir. I don't want to be dressed better 
 than the rest of them. I don't want blue 
 clothes and brass buttons, when my father and 
 mother and Pink don't have new things." 
 
 Mr. Murray could not but admire the feeling, 
 but he wanted to see Robert dressed according 
 to. -his ideal. "I'll give Pink a new suit too," 
 he said, slowly. 
 
 " I must ask mother before I say," said 
 Robert. " But you know father wouldn't take 
 clothes, only what he earned and paid for ; and 
 I don't think I ought to be dressed better than 
 my father." 
 
 He told his mother about the proffered clothes 
 for himself and Pink. 
 
 " You shall do as you please, Robert," said
 
 124 The Captain's Bargain. 
 
 Mrs. 'Liza, who was washing, and she rubbed 
 the suds from her arms, and leaned on her wash- 
 board, as she spoke ; " only you must think of 
 this : Mr. Murray may give you and Pink nicer 
 clothes than you ever had before, or could get 
 again. They would make your other clothes 
 seem very poor and shabby to you, and when 
 the new ones were gone, you might never feel 
 contented in such poorer things as we can give 
 you. The new clothes might just make you 
 both vain, and spoil your notions. But, do as 
 you like, child." 
 
 " I like not to have any clothes but what 
 you get me; don't you, Pink?" said Robert, 
 promptly. 
 
 The little maid, who was now eight, and'who 
 saw a very pretty little face reflected when she 
 gazed into the square foot of looking-glass, 
 or into a pool or tub of water, assented, much 
 more reluctantly than Robert, to Eliza's rea- 
 sonings. 
 
 "Ye-ess only I would like a blue dress, 
 with trimming on it, so much," she said. 
 
 " Never mind, Pink, dear," said Robert, pat- 
 ting her cheek. " We don't care ! Our things 
 are good enough, and then mother made 'em ! 
 That makes them good enough, don't it, Pink ? 
 And when I'm big, Pink, I'm going to earn a
 
 "Mr. Murray makes an Offer" 125 
 
 whole load of money, as much as all Mr. Mur- 
 ray has, and I'll buy you ten new dresses, of all 
 colors, and I shall buy mother a dress and a hat 
 just like Mrs. Britt's best one, only with a much 
 bigger feather ; and I'll pay the mortgages and 
 build a new mill, and a white house, with a 
 porch in front, and carpets all over the floors, 
 and a buggy for mother to ride in. Yes, I 
 will!" 
 
 " Bless the child," said Eliza, tears coming 
 into her eyes ; " whatever put all that into your 
 head ? " 
 
 " Oh, I think of it often, when I'm playing, 
 or go to bed at night, or sometimes when I'm 
 learning my lessons and then I forget to 
 learn my lessons, and I go to the foot, and the 
 master says, ' Robert, you've been dreaming 
 away your time.'" 
 
 "You mustn't do that," said Eliza, "you'll 
 never get a deal of money, and be rich, unless 
 you are wise and learn all your lessons. What 
 are you going to buy for yourself, when you are 
 rich'?" 
 
 " Something," said Robert, carelessly ; " I 
 hadn't thought about that yet." 
 
 Robert was ten. His long curls had at last 
 fallen under Eliza's reluctant shears ; but now 
 his hair was lying in great soft rings all about
 
 126 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 his well-made head, and his erect figure was 
 strong and well-developed ; not a child of his 
 years in the district was so large and well-built 
 as Robert. He was well on in his lessons too, 
 full of life and enterprise, a leader among his 
 playmates, a ruler, but not a tyrant. He could 
 tight, and fought when he saw occasion. There 
 was one day when as he and Pink reached 
 school they fell into trouble. 
 
 Pink had a blue calico dress. It had seen a 
 summer's wear, and had faded. Then, unhap- 
 pily, a hole had come in it, and Eliza had 
 patched it ; and, alas ! the new was bright 
 against the old. Poor little Pink, that patch 
 grieved her all the way to school. In vain Rob- 
 ert, putting his arm about her, strove to com- 
 fort her: "The patch did not look ugly." 
 " The dress was clean." " Pink was pretty, any- 
 how." " No one would notice it." " Every- 
 body had patches sometimes." 
 
 But Pink was still downcast, as by Robert's 
 side she trudged to school ; Bop prancing along, 
 now behind, now before them, and the twins 
 pursuing an erratic course in the rear. But 
 when the door of the school-house was reached, 
 Jim Long bawled out : " Halloo ! Pink Allen, 
 you've got a window in your frock ! " 
 
 Pink simply dropped into a forlorn heap on
 
 "Mr. Murray makes an Offer" 127 
 
 the grass, and hiding her crimson face on her 
 arms, began to cry heart-brokenly. Beside her 
 dropped the strap of books and the dinner- 
 basket. Jim Long was twelve and sturdy, but 
 Robert was upon him like a young tiger : he 
 whirled him from the school-house steps out 
 upon the grass ; he dealt him a furious blow on 
 his cheek, grappled him, flung him over, and 
 kneeling upon him, began to strike him here 
 and there, with little regard to consequences. 
 The twins shrieked in chorus. Bop shouted for 
 the master ; some of the girls burst into tears ; 
 some of the boys roared : " Serves him right." 
 " Give it to Jim Long." Others sang out, " Let 
 him up, Rob!" "Quit, Rob." "The master's 
 coming ! " The master came. He pulled one boy 
 off, and the other boy up ; he took them each 
 by the collar to the water-pail and washed both 
 their hot, furious faces. Then he led them to 
 the platform, rang the bell for school and order, 
 and inquired into the rights of the case. Tom 
 Britt stood up to testify, as a disinterested wit- 
 ness. 
 
 " Jim, I'm ashamed of you," said the school- 
 master, " but no doubt you spoke without 
 thinking, and are sorry for it now. No boy 
 with the least spark of a gentleman in him 
 would insult a girl ! Robert, is it not written,
 
 128 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 ' Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but 
 rather give place unto wrath ' ? " 
 
 " Yes, schoolmaster," said Robert, " but I 
 was not avenging myself, but Pink. He may 
 say what he likes to me, but no one shall make 
 Pink cry." 
 
 " It is dangerous to be so uncommonly handy 
 with your fists, Robert," said the master ; " here- 
 after will you let Jim alone?" 
 
 " Yes, master if he behaves himself," said 
 Robert, calmly, fixing his steadfast, brown eyes 
 on his preceptor. 
 
 The schoolmaster repressed a bounteous smile. 
 " I want no fighting in my school. Refer ill- 
 behavior to me." 
 
 " And be a sneak and a tell-tale, master ? I'd 
 rather settle him myself, please, sir." 
 
 " But I don't please," said the master. " I 
 cannot have fighting. If I found you boys 
 fighting, and was obliged to take a hand and 
 thrash you, it would be unfortunate." 
 
 " Yes, master, so it would," said Robert ; 
 "but I should have thrashed Jim first." 
 
 " Take your seats," said the master. " It is 
 time to open school." 
 
 Mr. Murray gloried in this encounter. He 
 met Robert one evening on the bridle-path to 
 the chalet. The boy had been looking after
 
 "Mr. Murray makes an Offer" 129 
 
 the Allen cow, which was given to straying. 
 " Robert," said Mr. Murray, taking his hand, 
 " you are now about ten years old, and I hear 
 you are at the head of your class." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; but it's easy, you know ; it is not a 
 hard class." 
 
 " And you can thrash any boy of your size, 
 and more than your size too, I understand." 
 
 " So I can," said Robert, with modest grati- 
 fication ; " but I don't do it often. I don't love 
 to fight." 
 
 " You will soon be a large boy, and then a 
 young man. What are you going to do in life ?" 
 
 " I shall go to work at something as soon as 
 I can, and make money. I want to make a lot 
 of money." 
 
 " Yes. What do you wish to do with money?" 
 
 " I want to give it to father. The mill needs 
 a lot of money to repair it. We need a house. 
 The mortgage ought to be paid. Oh, we need 
 so much money." 
 
 " And you'd be willing to do anything for 
 all this money, would you ? " 
 
 " Anything I could do, sir ; anything right. 
 Father says there's lots of very dirty money in 
 the world, made in bad ways. I wouldn't want 
 that money." 
 
 " Perhaps I can put you in a good way to
 
 130 The Captain's Bargain. 
 
 have a deal of money, as much as I have and 
 I am a rich man, Robert. Would you like 
 that?" 
 
 " Oh, sir ! Oh, yes, sir ! " cried Robert, his 
 face aglow. 
 
 The dusk was falling an evening or two after, 
 and Captain 'Zekiel Allen, in a moody frame of 
 mind, was standing on the bank, where he could 
 dimly see his mill-wheel. The children were all 
 in the house peeling and cutting apples to dry 
 for winter. Captain Ezekiel was unhappy. The 
 mortgage was long overdue, and he was at the 
 mercy of his creditor, who could at any time re- 
 fuse the hard-earned interest and foreclose. The 
 old mill was so out of repair that it would 
 scarcely hold together. The voyages to Phila- 
 delphia were yearly less remunerative, the barge 
 was very old, and, like the mill, needed refitting. 
 There was little demand for sawing or grinding. 
 The outlook was very dark for 'Zekiel and 'Liza 
 and the five children. 
 
 Some one came behind him. 
 
 " Captain Allen, are you there ? I wish to 
 talk with you. Can we sit down somewhere 
 alone?" 
 
 It was Mr. Murray. Captain Allen silently 
 led the way under the mill, to that very place of 
 cobwebs and rubbish where he had sacrificed his
 
 "Mr. Murray makes an Offer" 131 
 
 bottle, long ago, to Robert, and laid his hand in 
 unuttered covenant on that curly head. There 
 were two empty nail-kegs there, and the men sat 
 down. Captain Allen's heart misgave him. He 
 had long feared mischief from Mr. Murray. 
 
 " Allen," said Mr. Murray, " I want to talk 
 with you, and I am going first to tell you what 
 I have never told hereabouts to any one, my 
 story. I was left an orphan with some money. 
 When I was a lad I had typhoid fever, and in 
 the long prostration that came after I was freely 
 given brandy and whiskey. It created a taste 
 for liquor. Mine was not a constant thirst, a 
 tippling, a daily sipping. But at times a strong 
 craving came upon me, and I drank. I married. 
 My wife was an orphan like myself, and lovelier 
 than words can tell, a gentle creature, all heart. 
 We had a child a son we were happy. The 
 child was about a year old, when, one evening, 
 in New York, I wanted to take him out with 
 me on my arm, to carry him around after the 
 shops were lit. My wife had a sprained ankle 
 and could not go out. She objected to my tak- 
 ing the child. I had been having some liquor ; 
 she knew I might at any moment yield to my 
 madness, and take more, and lose all knowledge. 
 But I was proud of my handsome boy, and I 
 would go out with him, to show him to those
 
 132 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 whom I knew. I went out. At one in the 
 morning I came in without the child." 
 
 " Where was he ? " cried the Captain. 
 
 " I do not know. I was too stupefied to miss 
 him or to answer questions. My frantic wife 
 :;ent for the neighbors and for the police. It 
 was noon next day before I came to my senses. 
 Then I could tell nothing, for I could recall 
 nothing. Search had developed nothing. Search 
 has never developed anything. My watch and 
 a wallet with a hundred dollars were gone. I 
 had a vague fancy that the child cried, and I had 
 given him these articles to play with. We bent 
 every energy to the search, but never found any 
 trace of him. My poor wife was prostrated. 
 She lay on her bed, wasting to a shadow. She 
 had but one word, ' My baby, get me my baby.' 
 Hour after hour she moaned that plaintive plea. 
 When too weak to utter the words, her big, 
 sunken, sorrowful eyes turned in an agony of 
 entreaty to every one who entered. I spared no 
 pains. Even now the case is in the hands of the 
 New York police, as it has been for ten years. 
 At the end of a year my poor heart-broken wife 
 died. I was an old man. My hair was white, 
 my face was wrinkled, my shoulders bent, as you 
 see. I gave up hope. To fly the face of all 
 whom I had known, I came up here. By some
 
 "Mr. Murray makes an Offer'' 133 
 
 strange fatality, when all my home had fallen 
 into ruins, my fortune throve. I make more 
 and more money, but by no outlay of it can I 
 find my child. Now, I have a large fortune, 
 and I am prematurely old and broken, and where 
 shall I leave my money when I die ? I have 
 seen only one heir whom I want your Robert." 
 
 " Robert ! You want to leave your money 
 to Robert ! " 
 
 " Yes ; but I want you to give Robert to me. 
 I can do for him more than you can. I can 
 make him a gentleman, a rich man, a scholar 
 everything. It is not fair of you, is it, to stand 
 in the way of his prosperity ? He is not really 
 yours ; you have four ; compassionate my lone- 
 liness, give the boy to me." 
 
 " Give up our Robert ! Not mine ! Yes ; but 
 I love him as well as any of the rest. Give you 
 my boy, Mr. Murray?" 
 
 " I will do so well for him," plead the Super- 
 intendent. 
 
 " I'm bringing him up to be an honest man, 
 and that's enough," said Captain 'Zekiel. 
 
 " When the boy is older when he finds him- 
 self at a disadvantage, when he is wanting what 
 he cannot have, and is hard pressed by poverty, 
 he may wish you had done better for him by 
 not rejecting my offer, Allen."
 
 134 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " It would break 'Liza's heart. She's as set 
 on Robert as I am. And there's Pink ; yes, 
 and all the rest of 'em, Jerry and all, they'd never 
 cease mourning if I let him go. To say noth- 
 ing of what I'd feel." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know. But here you are, times 
 are hard, the mill is mortgaged for all it's worth, 
 or more. Old Mr. Wick, who holds the mort- 
 gage, is past seventy; when he dies the heirs 
 will wind up the property, and where will you 
 be, Allen?" 
 
 " In the street, no doubt," groaned the Cap- 
 tain. He had been thinking those very thoughts 
 by his wheel as the evening gathered before the 
 Superintendent came. 
 
 " And you will have in Robert only one 
 more to share your troubles. You can set him 
 well out of them by giving him to me. I'll 
 send him to college. I'll leave him all my 
 property unless I find my own boy Paul. If I 
 find him though I fear, yes, I am sure I never 
 shall I'll give Robert ten thousand dollars, and 
 take care of him, until he is twenty-one." 
 
 " I don't believe the boy would be willing 
 no, not for all that money," said Captain 
 Allen. 
 
 " You should be willing for him, seeing it is 
 for his good."
 
 "Mr. Murray makes an Offer" 135 
 
 "To give up our Robert!" cried the pooi 
 foster-father. 
 
 "Come, Allen. See, now, I'll pay off the 
 mortgage, and give you a thousand dollars, to 
 ivpair the mill and build a house." 
 
 " You are trading on my poverty, and trying 
 to buy my good little boy ! " cried Allen angrily. 
 
 " No, I am not. You have cared for him 
 five years and over. I offer you compensation 
 for his education and maintenance. If I had 
 picked him up when you did, no doubt by this 
 time I should have spent a deal of money on 
 him." 
 
 " He is not for sale," said the Captain, crossly. 
 
 " Don't look at it in that way, man," plead 
 the Superintendent. " You are rich in four 
 children of your own blood I am childless. 
 Think what a terrible history I have told you. 
 Think of my daily agony. Think how wretch- 
 edly I lost my poor wife. Your wife is with 
 you. It is a charity I beg of you. Give- me 
 the boy." 
 
 This moved the warm heart of Captain Allen. 
 He laid aside his wrath. " I'm sorry for you, 
 with all my heart," he said. " I wish I could 
 say a good word for you. But I'm not the only 
 one to speak about Robert. 'Liza has worked 
 for him, made, mended, washed, cooked, done
 
 136 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 without things for him, as she has for her own. 
 I could not do anything unless 'Liza agreed, and 
 I'm certain she'd say ' No.' Pink would pine to 
 death over it." 
 
 " You think it over, and talk it over with 
 Mrs. Allen," said the Superintendent. He rose 
 from the nail-keg and stumbled his way out from 
 under the mill, into the starry night. Captain 
 Allen followed him, and stood listening to his 
 horse's hoofs going up the road. It seemed as 
 if they were already carrying Robert away. Then 
 he entered the living-rooms. The little family, 
 even the twins, were busy about the tubs full of 
 apples. 
 
 " What's the matter, 'Zekiel ?" said his wife, 
 seeing his distressed face. 
 
 " I know," said Jerry, who had been unusually 
 silent. " He's heard the news about old Mr. 
 Wick." 
 
 " What news ?" asked Captain Allen, sharply. 
 
 " He's had a stroke, and they reckon he's 
 dying." 
 
 Eliza grew pale. She knew what that would 
 mean to them. She dared not look at her hus- 
 band. 
 
 Meanwhile, Mr. Murray, riding to his lonely 
 chalet, did not fail to see that he might buy the 
 mortgage of Mr. Wick, and then press the Cap-
 
 "Mr. Murray makes an Offer" 137 
 
 tain by foreclosing it. But though a selfish 
 man, and rendered morose by his sorrows, the 
 Superintendent was not a malicious man. He 
 would not be guilty of so cruel an action. He 
 said to himself that he could still wait ; some 
 chance might yet throw the coveted boy into 
 his hands. 
 
 After the children had all gone to bed for 
 Robert and Bop now shared a little room which 
 the Captain had made off from the workshop, 
 and a shabby little place it was, do the best for 
 it that Eliza could Captain 'Zekiel and his wife 
 sat by the dying fire and discussed their ever- 
 falling fortunes, and Captain 'Zekiel told 'Liza 
 of the offer made by Mr. Murray. 
 
 " The mortgage gone, and a thousand in 
 hand, 'Liza, we should be set on our feet." 
 
 " But we would not enjoy it," said 'Liza. " It 
 seems as if the new home wouldn't be half a 
 home without our Robert. Oh, 'Zekiel, I can't 
 give him up ! " 
 
 "And, 'Liza, you said he shouldn't stay, and 
 did not like my bringing him. He was a Bad 
 Bargain ! " 
 
 " No, no, 'Zekiel. He has been a good bar- 
 gain and a blessing. 'Zekiel, do you think we 
 should give him up ? What would the children 
 do?"
 
 138 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " Let us all sink or swim together, 'Liza," 
 said Captain Allen, laying his hand on his 
 wife's. 
 
 " So we will, 'Zekiel. We won't give up our 
 boy."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ROBERT COMES TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 No one of old Mr. Wick's relatives, not even 
 his prospective heir, watched so anxiously the 
 progress of his illness as did Captain 'Zekiel ; 
 no other one was so rejoiced when the old gen- 
 tleman began to recover. On the first of Jan- 
 uary Captain 'Zekiel went to pay his half-yearly 
 interest a small amount, but how hardly 
 earned ! 
 
 " Well, 'Zekiel," said Mr. Wick, giving a re- 
 ceipt for the money, " I didn't think I'd be here 
 to take any more interest from you. I made 
 sure my nephy Jones would have sold you out 
 by this time. But I mav take your money for 
 a number of years yet, 'Zekiel." 
 
 " I hope to goodness you may," said Captain 
 Allen. The payment of the mortgage was a 
 good fortune beyond even hoping for. The 
 being allowed to pay the half-yearly interest and 
 not have his ancestral mill sold away from him, 
 reached even beyond the limit of Captain 
 
 (139)
 
 140 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 'Zekiel's expectations. The Captain was not an 
 enterprising, nor active, nor fortunate business 
 man. Had he been offered something to do in 
 the city at twice the amount of a modest living 
 at the mill, he would have stood by Lai's Moun- 
 tain. His wildest day-dreams never passed be- 
 yond a new white house with seven rooms, a 
 veranda, and a little flower-garden, besides a reno- 
 vated mill. His children might go forth in the 
 world and make their way in wider spheres ; the 
 Captain wanted the old place for himself and 
 'Liza, where the children could come home to 
 visit and bring their children to set their toy- 
 boats sailing on the waters where the Captain's 
 grandfather had first set a mill-wheel turning. 
 
 As it was, the Allen family, in spite of their 
 poverty, managed to be very happy together 
 in their tumble - down home. So one day 
 went on very like another, and the children 
 grew, and the Captain gathered together his 
 interest money, and Mr. Murray waited, and 
 Robert was thirteen. That spring the Fair- 
 Wcather was to go down the river in May. 
 She had some lumber to take as well as the 
 usual odds and ends of her trading expedition. 
 The preparations were well under way when 
 suddenly Mrs. 'Liza, the head and front of the 
 household, fell ill. There had been a deal of
 
 Robert Comes to the Rescue. 141 
 
 sickness in the district that spring, and Mistress 
 Alleix had overtaxed herself helping her neigh- 
 bors. All at once, she who arranged all the 
 family affairs, the woman-with-a-head-on-her- 
 shoulders, to whom they all turned for direc- 
 tion, lay prostrate. She was unable to think, to 
 project, to direct ; her thin hands were tremu- 
 lous, her mind wandered, fever scorched her 
 veins. 
 
 The neighbors had always said : " Well, the 
 Aliens are so unlucky, the last and worst that 
 can come to them, is to have something happen 
 to 'Liza." And now something happened : 
 Eliza was lying helpless in her bed. The load- 
 ing of the barge stopped ; Jerry was no longer 
 able to offer proposals for new enterprises ; the 
 children stood about, awed and quiet or crying ; 
 the poor Captain, 'Zekiel, was as a man dis- 
 tracted. 
 
 There were so many ill, or aged, or just re- 
 covering from sickness in that sparsely settled 
 neighborhood, that there was no one to come 
 to help the Aliens. The burly, unaccustomed 
 Captain was left to be sick-nurse, while distress 
 and alarm had rendered him more impracticable 
 than ever. The doctor came. Mrs. Eliza was 
 " all run down "; " she was overworked." " She 
 needed careful nourishing." Among other
 
 142 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 things she was to have beef-tea. Beef-tea ! It 
 was a new dish at the mill. But Jerry got the 
 beef from Lacy when he went after medicines. 
 The doctor had told them how to make beef- 
 tea but the Captain was hazy as to the in- 
 structions. Besides, he theorized if 'Liza need- 
 ed to be strengthened, the tea should be rich ; 
 to his mind the fat was the best part of the 
 meat the Captain put plenty of fat in his beef- 
 tea. 
 
 At last the potent dish was done. Mrs. 'Liza, 
 in her room next the kitchen, had smelled the 
 steam of the decoction, and was sure she did 
 not want to taste it. But oh, she must. What ! 
 not take her beef-tea, when the doctor ordered 
 it, and her Captain and the children were in 
 such agony at seeing her ill ! She must be 
 heroic. The Captain poured his beef-tea, boil- 
 ing hot, plenty of it, into a yellow bowl, and 
 hurriedly advanced with it to the bedside while 
 the children looked on. 
 
 It is a singular fact that, for some occult reason, 
 the horniest of man-hands can never endure a hot 
 plate or cup, with one-tenth the fortitude of 
 softest woman-hands. Besides, the Captain, 
 in anguish at 'Liza's situation, had quite lost his 
 head. He distinguished himself by dropping 
 the hot bowl, just as he got to the patient.
 
 Robert Comes to the Rescue. 143 
 
 The greasy fluid was distributed over the clean 
 white counterpane, and scalded one of the pa- 
 tient's worn, thin hands. The children shrieked ; 
 poor helpless 'Liza turned her face to the \vall 
 and incontinently burst into tears. The Cap- 
 tain tore his hair. 
 
 Then Robert rushed to the rescue. He saw 
 that the Captain, the natural nurse of the oc- 
 casion, was entirely incompetent, so he sprang 
 in before him, tore off the counterpane from 
 the bed before the soup had time to soak 
 through to ruin the clean blanket ; seized a dish 
 and deftly mixed 'Liza's remedy for burns flour, 
 salt, water, in a thick paste poured it into a 
 towel, and bound up the burned hand. Then 
 he ran for the other clean counterpane and 
 spread it neatly over Eliza, put his father and 
 the children out of the door, bade Pink put 
 the soiled counterpane to soak in a tub of suds, 
 drew the curtains, opened the window, shut 
 the bed-room door, bathed Eliza's face and 
 smoothed her hair, set a bunch of green leaves 
 and white flowers on the little table, and re- 
 turned to the kitchen, to investigate the remains 
 of the Captain's cooking. There was still some 
 broth in the little pot, and, luckily, the greasy 
 portion had been spilled. Robert got a little 
 china cup, a shelf ornament, set it on the best
 
 144 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 plate, put in it one of 'Liza's six small silver 
 spoons, her only " silver," laid by it one of her six 
 napkins, laid on the napkin a finger of brown 
 toast, put the rest of the broth, carefully seasoned, 
 into the cup, and carried the refection to Eliza. 
 " Your hand doesn't hurt now, does it, mother ? 
 Pink is washing the quilt in hot suds, and we 
 will bleach it lovely on the grass. And here is 
 some nice broth ; and don't worry, I'm going to 
 take care of you. I believe I know how to 
 'tend sick people." 
 
 So he fed 'Liza the broth and toast, shook 
 up her pillow, and went out to inform his father 
 that he himself was now head nurse, and that the 
 kitchen stove should be set out in a little lean- 
 to shed, and no one allowed to walk with shoes, 
 or do work, above the sick-chamber, and the 
 children had better go to school, and leave the 
 place quiet. " And, father, you'd better load up 
 the Fair- Weather and make the trip, and take 
 Bop and the twins with you. Jerry can see 
 to the work, and Pink and I will take care of 
 mother." 
 
 " But, Robert. Your mother I can't go in- 
 deed ; suppose your mother should die, while 
 I'm gone." The Captain's eyes were wide and 
 dim, with the horror of the thought for him the 
 loss of Eliza would end his universe. " It's
 
 Robert Comes to the Rescue. 145 
 
 wrong, Robert, all wrong. Women ought never 
 to die first. Women know how to take care o 
 themselves ; but I but men can never get 01 
 alone." And Captain 'Zekiel leaned his head 
 on the tall blue-painted pump, and tears ran 
 down his rugged face. 
 
 " Don't, don't, father," plead Robert. " She 
 won't die ; oh, I know she won't die. We'll 
 take such care of her. If the barge don't 
 go, she'll worry, you know, about needing the 
 money, and all and she'll be quieter if Bop 
 and the twins are away. She'll be well by the 
 time you come back. Indeed, she'll do better 
 if she sees everything is going on reasonably." 
 
 Indeed, when questioned by Robert, 'Liza ex- 
 pressed her strong wish that the Captain should 
 take the younger children and make the trip. So 
 the loading of the barge was completed, and as 
 Robert showed himself an admirable nurse, and 
 the patient did not get worse, the Captain agreed 
 to make his voyage. In truth, he cheered up 
 a little ; and seeing Robert deftly brushing 
 his mother's hair, the evening before the Fair- 
 Weather was to leave, the Captain even ven- 
 tured a jest. " 'Liza, he isn't such a Bad Bar- 
 gain after all ; and. 'Liza, he does your hair a 
 deal more softly than you did his, that first even- 
 ing, you know." For there had been no effort
 
 146 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 made to deceive Robert as to his place by adop- 
 tion rather than by birth. Eliza was a sensible 
 woman. " He sees we love him, and do our 
 best for him," she said, "and if we tried to hide 
 from him that we found and adopted him, he 
 would remember a little of the truth, and the 
 whole of it would come out in some unpleasant 
 way to hurt his feelings. It is best to be frank 
 about it from the first." So as soon as Robert 
 was old enough to understand, his coming to 
 the mill was freely spoken of. 
 
 Well, the Fair - Weather went down-stream, 
 for the first time in fourteen years, without 
 Eliza. The poor Captain was heavy-hearted 
 as he kept looking back, until the bend in the 
 river hid his home from his eyes. Then, when 
 the barge was out of sight, Robert and Pink 
 hastened in to their duties of nursing and house- 
 keeping. 
 
 All was very quiet at the mill. The steady 
 creak of the wheel was a monotone to which 
 they were so accustomed that no one noticed 
 it. The bees in the row of hives, which was 
 one of Jerry's industries, hummed at their work, 
 and no doubt got ready for swarming ; Pink 
 borrowed Mrs. Britt's cook-book, and made 
 beef-tea, gruel, panada, and toast water, and 
 chicken broth, by rule and letter. The doctor
 
 Robert Comes to the Rescue. 147 
 
 said there was not a tidier, quieter sick-room in 
 his rounds than Robert kept, and Robert had 
 always something encouraging to tell, some new 
 attention to offer to cheer the invalid. But 
 'Liza kept her bed, and was weak and unable 
 to rally. She had had a life of hard work and 
 many cares, this poor woman, and her system 
 had lost tone. 
 
 The Captain made the shortest trip on his 
 record. He was in a fever of haste to get home. 
 He pushed his barge down-stream or up-stream 
 until late at night. He made short stops. What 
 use was it to stop, when he had not his poor 
 'Liza with him to make pleasant the visits of 
 friends ? He thought sometimes of Mr. Mur- 
 ray, and his sad tale of losing his wife. Poor 
 man, however did he endure such misery ! Had 
 it been cruel to refuse to console him with Rob- 
 ert ? But then, if Captain 'Zekiel had given 
 away Robert, who at this crisis would have been 
 the indefatigable nurse of Eliza, perhaps to the 
 saving of her life ? 
 
 So the Captain hurried his expedition. It is 
 a pity that he did not take a little more time to 
 it. He missed the advice, the business perspi- 
 cacity of Eliza, her ultimatum on each ven- 
 ture. He was duller than ever ; indeed, he had 
 not by any means recovered the head he had
 
 148 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 lost when he spilled the soup and burnt the pa- 
 tient. 
 
 Unluckily, also, the Captain did his little trad- 
 ing with new parties. The old acquaintances 
 had sold out to new firms, who saw in Captain 
 'Zekiel only a man uncommonly easy to over- 
 reach in a bargain. The incapacity to reckon, 
 the dubiousness as to whether Eliza's method 
 was to multiply or divide, was not an occasional 
 but a chronic state with Captain 'Zekiel. Un- 
 happily, also, it made little difference whether 
 he did multiply or divide ; by his management 
 the result of either method was painfully likely 
 to be about the same. 
 
 Well, he traded, he got rid of his cargo, and 
 he had something in lieu thereof ; and, aided by 
 a strong wind, he got up the Schuylkill in much 
 better than usual time. But all the way up 
 black care sat on his broad shoulders, and whis- 
 pered that he had made a very disastrous trade, 
 and that he was wofully behindhand, and that 
 when his bills were paid he would be short of 
 money for the June interest, and alas, Captain 
 'Zekiel ! 
 
 He reached home, and Eliza was still in bed. 
 Her fever was gone, but she was weak, white, 
 wan, without appetite or energy. She roused a 
 little to inquire the result of the voyage. The
 
 Robert Comes to the Rescue. 149 
 
 Captain's fortitude was at an end. He sat by 
 the table, his head bowed. " I've made a mess 
 of it, 'Liza! You've got a head, and I haven't. 
 I can't do a thing without you ! There's all the 
 money I brought back ; and, though I've 
 counted it a hundred times, I can't see that I 
 have made above a dollar or so over the ex- 
 penses." 
 
 " 'Zekiel Allen, is that all the money you got ? 
 Is that all you brought back? "cried the dis- 
 mayed Eliza, her quick eye reading the sum 
 total at a glance. 
 
 " No," said Captain 'Zekiel. " Mr. Kemper 
 gave me as part pay for the honey and dried 
 fruit and cheese fifty butter-tubs, ten-pound and 
 twenty-two-pound tubs, which he says Snell the 
 butter-dealer will give me ten cents apiece for, 
 and that's how much, 'Liza?" 
 
 " Nothing!" said Eliza, solemnly. "Snell 
 was buried the day after you left. You've got 
 those tubs on your hands, 'Zekiel. What 
 else?" 
 
 " And, instead of money on the hams and 
 popcorn and knit things, the new man got me 
 to take a barrel a hundred and seventy pound 
 barrel of brown sugar." 
 
 11 'Zekiel Allen ! When would we use a bar- 
 rel of brown sugar, especially as we are not likely
 
 150 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 to have anything to eat it with or a roof to keep 
 it under!" 
 
 The Captain groaned. " And I felt so had 
 ahout you, 'Liza. I wanted to get you some- 
 thing, and I got you a gown-piece," and the 
 Captain undid a brown-paper parcel and showed 
 his gown- piece. 
 
 It was a canary-colored plain delaine. 
 
 No doubt the Captain was color-blind, just as 
 he was born without a capacity for arithmetic. 
 Possibly the fifty butter-tubs, the barrel of 
 sugar, and the canary-colored gown would have 
 killed a weaker woman. Mrs. Eliza was over- 
 whelmed for an instant. Then she revived 
 from the shock. It acted as a tonic upon her. 
 "'Zekiel Allen ! I see plainly if I allow myself 
 to die, you and the children will be in the 
 county-house in six months. You weren't born 
 to manage for yourself, 'Zekiel. Well, I won't 
 die ! Robert, make me a cup of tea and give 
 me a soft-boiled egg; I must get well. If I 
 don't, what will become of you ? " 
 
 Joy ! joy ! The voyage had been one disas- 
 ter, but Eliza was going to get well ! When- 
 ever did this admirable woman fail to keep her 
 pledged word ? Captain 'Zekiel came out of the 
 depths, a smile passed around the family, play- 
 ing from face to face, as one hill after another
 
 Robert Comes to the Rescue. 151 
 
 catches the illumination of the morning sun. 
 Robert and Jerry retired to the family council- 
 chamber, the rubbish-place among the under- 
 pinning of the mill. Robert had ideas which he 
 wished to have tested by the practical Jerry. 
 
 They seemed to be good ideas, for they stood 
 the scales of Jerry's judgment like full-weight 
 gold coins. 
 
 Robert returned to the bed-room and sat on 
 the foot of 'Liza's bed. 
 
 " Mother ! I wouldn't mind about the dress ; 
 you can dye it a beautiful drab, and it will be so 
 nice." 
 
 It is always well in driving a wedge to put it 
 in thin end first. This was Robert's method, 
 with his plans. 
 
 " So I can," said Mrs. 'Liza. 
 
 "And, mother, I'll tell you what we'll do. 
 The mountain is going to be just covered with 
 berries. Jerry says the raspberries and black- 
 berries will be just by the bushel. And our 
 orchard never had such a lot of apples set. Say, 
 mother, you get well, and we'll all pick the ber- 
 ries, and bring them to you, and we'll have a fire 
 out of doors, and the big brass-kettle on, and that 
 barrel of sugar, you know, we'll boil it into jam. 
 All the folks say there never was jam like yours. 
 We will make raspberry jam, and blackberry
 
 152 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 jam ; and the wild plum-trees are loaded, we'll 
 have plum jam ; and then we'll go for the apples, 
 and make your splendid apple-butter ; and we'll 
 fill every one of those fifty tubs with jam and 
 apple-butter, and in October we'll take the barge 
 down to Philadelphia again. Jerry says we can 
 have at least twenty-five pounds of honey, and 
 it's a nut year, and we can take barrels of nuts, 
 and we'll take down the fifty tubs full of jam 
 and apple-butter, and Jerry says we can have 
 two firkins of fall butter, if we are careful of the 
 milk, so we'll make a good load, and mother, 
 we won't sell to the stores. Jerry has been 
 reading about trade, and middle-men, and all 
 that. You'll fill our sample-glasses of jam and 
 honey and jelly ; we'll turn our currants all into 
 jelly, and I'll go straight to the big hotels with 
 my samples for them to taste. I'll tell 'em how 
 good the things are, and I'll sell out for more 
 than the dealers give. Perhaps Mr. Murray 
 knows a hotel-keeper or some one who has a 
 great boarding-house, and he'll give me a letter, 
 nnd you'll see I'll sell." 
 
 Eliza's energetic soul responded to this plan- 
 ning. She came out of her sickness a new wom- 
 an. Captain 'Zekiel rolled the unaccustomed 
 burden of thinking off his shoulders and be- 
 took himself to working on well-planned lines.
 
 Robert Comes to the Rescue. 153 
 
 Beans and pop-corn grew for the autumn trip ; 
 the Captain and all the children gathered fruit 
 from dawn to dark all the fruit season ; Jerry 
 made lye, and soaked and scoured the tubs as 
 white as snow. Eliza boiled jam and jelly and 
 apple-butter in their season ; she also dyed the 
 canary-colored woolen, and made a new dress 
 for the autumn trip. 
 
 Up above Captain Allen's mill is the finest 
 trout fishing of Schuylkill County. > There is 
 also some of the most entrancing wild-wood and 
 stream scenery. The summer before Mrs. 'Liza 
 was ill, an artist and an angler had come up 
 there together, and had concocted glowing and 
 illustrated articles about the locality for a lead- 
 ing magazine. A fashion had been set, and, in 
 August, up came in detachments of two and 
 three, anglers and artists, and made a camp on 
 Lai's Mountain. In their corduroy knee- 
 breeches, their leather leggins and flannel shirts, 
 they scoured the neighborhood. 
 
 Jerry need take no chickens, eggs, or butter 
 to Lacy ; his market was at the door. Eliza's 
 services were enlisted for making pies, biscuits, 
 bread, and washing fancy flannels. Captain 'Ze- 
 kiel was kept busy, now mending this, now 
 making that ; or, again, building sheds for the 
 camp. Jerry was called upon to take the place
 
 154 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 of a recreant cook who got drunk and was dis- 
 charged, having nearly set the camp and the 
 woods on fire. And Robert was in constant 
 demand. Would Robert guide them here or 
 there ? would he take the Britt boat and go to 
 Lacy for groceries ? would he bring their mail ? 
 would he be drawn for a " Boy bathing," a 
 " Boy angling," a " Fairy peering through 
 leaves," " A Satyr playing on pipes to a bird" ? 
 would he be painted with Pink for the " Gipsy 
 children"? would he make them some fishing- 
 flies? Robert was ready to do all and every- 
 thing. The legs, which 'Liza had warned him 
 would be " worn off" watering horses, were good 
 for any demand for exertion. He was always 
 cheerfully on hand. The Captain and 'Liza 
 did not begrudge his services to the strangers. 
 None of them considered whether he would 
 be paid. They were generous, these people ; 
 ready to spend and be spent for others, accord- 
 ing to their ability. It was Eliza's frequent ob- 
 servation : 
 
 " We are poor ; we cannot give as some can ; 
 but we can do. We can help, if we cannot 
 make presents, and all who live in this world 
 ought to be ready to help their neighbors." 
 
 So Eliza herself was always ready to go and 
 give aid where sickness, death, or extra work
 
 Robert Comes to the Rescue. 155 
 
 made occasion for her services, and her children 
 were all trained to be helpful. 
 
 The summer which had begun so ill passed 
 more swiftly and joyfully than any summer for 
 years. The Captain and Eliza and Jerry all 
 made some money. When October came the 
 anglers and artists were gone, but going they 
 left a little packet at the mill for their willing 
 factotum. Robert found in it a new pocket-book, 
 and therein three ten-dollar bills. Oh, joy ! 
 He looked at them in ecstasy. He devoured 
 them with his eyes. He ran and gave one to 
 Eliza with a hug ; he gave one to Captain 'Ze- 
 kiel ; he gave the third to Pink. Then he stood 
 and contemplated his family, each holding a 
 strip of green paper, as the farmer's family in 
 the " Vicar of Wakefield " each held an orange. 
 
 Then the barge Fair- Weather was loaded up, 
 and made a trip, and Robert sold his jams and 
 jellies for a good round sum, and the Captain 
 shook his big head and said, " Hah ! That 
 sugar-barrel was not such a bad bargain ! "
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 ROBERT PROVES HIMSELF A HERO. 
 
 THE October voyage of the barge Fair- 
 Weather having proved a success, the Captain, 
 Eliza, Jerry, and Robert counted up and com- 
 bined their summer earnings, and found them- 
 selves better off than they had been for years. 
 The exhausted wardrobes were replenished, and 
 Eliza rejoiced in making much-needed new bed- 
 ding, and in buying some new crockery. The in- 
 terest money for the whole year was ready, and 
 Captain 'Zekiel even went so far as to say to his 
 wife, " 'Liza, do you suppose, if we had some 
 more such summers, we could repair the mill or 
 build a new house ? " 
 
 Eliza shook her head. " It would take a 
 many such summers to do either ; and then, of 
 what use would it be when we are under such a 
 mortgage and liable to be sold out any day ? The 
 time is coming, 'Zekiel, when we \\tfll rmve to 
 leave Lai's Mountain, and I don't know where 
 we shall go, or what money we shall have to 
 take us anywhere." 
 
 (156) *'
 
 Robert proves himself a Hero. 157 
 
 " Don't be down-hearted, Eliza," said 'Zekiel. 
 " I make sure we'll have better luck than you 
 expect. It is a long road that has no turning. 
 The Allen fortunes have been down-hill for two 
 generations; it is time now that they began to 
 come up. In my mind's eye, Eliza, I see a 
 white house, with seven rooms and a porch, on 
 that level spot a hundred yards above the mill. 
 We would leave the great chestnut that is 
 there standing, so as to shade the veranda, for 
 you to sit in comfort summer afternoons. I 
 think I see the old mill repaired and doing more 
 business than ever, for there is business in the 
 county, still, in our line, 'Liza, if we only had 
 the machinery to meet it." 
 
 " Well, 'Zekiel," said Eliza, with a sigh, " there 
 is no harm in seeing these things in your mind's 
 eye, if it gives you any comfort to do so. And 
 I suppose the Lord knows what is good for us, 
 and will let us have all that we ought. There's 
 a verse, ' It is good for a man that he bear the 
 yoke in his youth.' We seem to have borne it, 
 not only all our youth, but our middle age pretty 
 well through, also. But I remember it is in 
 1 Pilgrim's Progress' said, that he is happy who 
 has his .best things last." 
 
 " Perhaps we will, Eliza," said Captain 'Ze- 
 kiel. " Anyway, don't you be down-hearted.
 
 158 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 Things might be worse. You might have died 
 when you were sick, last May, or Mr. Wick 
 might have died, and Jones might have fore- 
 closed the mortgage." 
 
 The Captain and Eliza talked in this fashion, 
 when they sat in the kitchen during the winter 
 days, when there was no work in the mill, the 
 children were all up at the red school-house, 
 and the sun, shining across the snow, filled the 
 kitchen with light. Eliza sitting near the win- 
 dow, sewed on her new sheets and pillow-cases ; 
 Captain 'Zekiel behind the stove, made corn- 
 husk mats for sale ; and Jerry carved canes and 
 porridge-sticks, for which he found a market 
 when the Fair- Weather made her trips. Also 
 Jerry and Mrs. 'Liza were making two notable 
 rag carpets. "If we never have a house to put 
 them in," said Mrs. 'Liza, "we'll sell them for 
 money to help us move. It is well to be ready 
 for whatever happens." 
 
 The house nearest the mill belonged to young 
 Nelson Britt. It was built in two low stories 
 with an attic under the high peaked-roof. The 
 attic ran across the whole top of the house, had 
 a window in each gable, and was divided into 
 two large rooms with a passage-way between 
 them where the stairs came up. The windows 
 of the attic were set in sasjies that swung in-
 
 Robert proves himself a Hero. 159 
 
 ward on hinges. The Britt family was large, 
 and besides the parents and children, there was 
 an old hired man, and a young married woman 
 of the neighborhood, who that winter helped 
 Mrs. Britt with the work, for the sake of a 
 home for herself and young baby, her husband 
 having gone to Texas to prepare for their set- 
 tlement there. 
 
 About nine o'clock one cold February night, 
 when all the Britt family were in bed, some 
 late passers-up the road discovered that the 
 house was on fire. An instant and great uproar 
 rose in the small settlement, and men, women, 
 and children rushed to the scene of disaster. 
 The house was old and all of wood water was 
 not to be ha$ as all things were frozen up. 
 The Britt family got out their children as fast 
 as possible, and half stupefied with smoke, the 
 men came down from the attic, dragging the 
 young woman, who between sleep and suffoca- 
 tion, was not fully conscious until she was in the 
 sharp, open air. Then with wild shrieks she 
 realized that her baby had been left in the bed. 
 The men had never thought of it ; she had not 
 known what was going on until she was outside 
 of the house, and already the single stairway 
 was a sheet of flame. 
 
 " Ladders ! Ladders ! " shouted the men,
 
 160 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 while the poor young mother, screaming for 
 her child, was held back by the women from 
 flinging herself back into the burning stairway. 
 " Ladders .' Ladders ! " But the Britts had 
 lent their longest ladder, and the other was 
 broken. Some rushed to the mill for a ladder. 
 That was far too short. A cry of dismay told 
 that the baby was doomed. Then a louder cry 
 of surprise for the window of the woman's 
 attic room was flung open, and in it stood Rob- 
 ert with the baby in his arms. His course was 
 evident. He had climbed up a great pear-tree 
 growing against the opposite gable, kicked open 
 the window of the man's room, groped his way 
 to the other room, and found the child among 
 the bed-clothes. Then, just in time to save 
 himself and the babe from suffocation, he had 
 pulled open the window. But the opened win- 
 dows, creating a draught, had hastened the 
 flames. They had rushed up to the top of 
 the house and taken full possession of the 
 landing and the pine partitions, so that the dark 
 form of Robert, his handsome boyish head, and 
 the little white, night-gowned bundle in his arms, 
 were ruddily revealed against a background of 
 flames. Moreover, the flames were devouring 
 the room. He sat astride the window fora mo- 
 ment, while those below consulted and dashed
 
 Robert proves himself a Hero. 161 
 
 wildly about. Then as the red tongues reached 
 out to lick him up, he dropped over the window 
 ledge, and hung by one hand to the sill. It was 
 i, > untenable position. 
 
 "Drop, boy! We'll catch you!" screamed 
 the men. But the stentorian voice of Captain 
 'Zekiel rose over all. " My son ! Hold on ! " 
 The distance was a long one, the ground was 
 frozen like rock. If Robert fell and was not 
 caught his case was hopeless. 
 
 " He can't hold on ! " cried the women But 
 Robert ducked his head, and the next instant 
 was holding by both hands. He had seized the 
 baby's clothes by his teeth, and thus held the 
 child, resting against his upward strained arms. 
 
 Almost every one has at least one chance in 
 life to show what is in him, and come grandly 
 to the front of his fellows. This was the chance 
 of the strong Captain 'Zekiel. A few things 
 had been carried from the burning; house, 
 among them a large table. As soon as he saw 
 Robert at the window the Captain took in the 
 situation, and sprang to drag forward the table. 
 When he cried " Hold on !" he was setting it 
 in place. " Hold it firm ! " he said, and the 
 crowd sprang to brace it on all sides. " Britt 
 and Peters ! Up here ! Clasp together ! Brace 
 yourselves. Bear my weight." And Captain
 
 1 62 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 'Zekiel had the two strongest fellows of the 
 hamlet locked together, and was up upon their 
 shoulders, and standing firmly, reaching up to 
 his full height cried, "Drop now, my son!" 
 Robert, at the very end of his strength, dropped 
 like a shot. The men swayed, but did not fall. 
 Robert fell into the Captain's arms ; the Cap- 
 tain bent forwaid and set him on the table. 
 Robert bent forward, and laid the rescued baby 
 in the outstretched arms of its frantic mother. 
 And then the roaring huzzas of the men, and 
 the shriller acclamations of the women, voiced 
 their approval of The Captain's Bargain. 
 
 " I vow that's a splendid boy of Allen's," said 
 Deacon Britt, next morning at breakfast, to the 
 schoolmaster. " That was bravely acted last 
 night. He ought to have something done for 
 him." 
 
 "The time may come to do something for 
 him," said the master, "if it does not happen, as 
 seems to me to be likely, that he does all that 
 is needed for himself, and something for other 
 people. But let us not spoil the spontaneous 
 beauty of his present deed, by talk of reward. 
 Let him have, for a time at least, that best re- 
 ward, the consciousness that he thought wisely, 
 ;v-ted bravely and promptly, and saved a human 
 life."
 
 Robert proves himself a Hero. 163 
 
 In truth, Robert seemed to plume himself 
 little on his action. " It was easy enough 
 to climb the old pear-tree," he said, " he had 
 climbed it lots of times, and got into the attic 
 window by it too, when he was playing with 
 the Britt boys. He saw that the baby had been 
 left, almost as soon as the mother saw it, and 
 he couldn't help but see the only way to get at 
 it in time. He knew his father would manage 
 some way to get him down from the window." 
 
 In spite of this lucid explanation of the 
 affair, Robert was the hero of the winter, and 
 the absent father of the rescued baby wrote 
 that if Robert would come to Texas, he would 
 go halves with him in any place he succeeded in 
 opening up for a home. 
 
 That was a hard winter, the severest for years. 
 The snow lay deep upon the hills thawed much 
 in January, filling the creeks, then a heavy 
 freeze came on and converted the streams into 
 almost solid beds of ice, and more snow piled 
 up on the hills. Then, all at once, in the last 
 week in March, came south winds blowing 
 softly, and suns that seemed hot enough for 
 May , so that the streams would be flushed to 
 their brims when the storming waters uplifted 
 and rent the masses of ice. In the joy of warm air, 
 sunshine, grass growing hourly green, and blue-
 
 164 The Captaitis Bargain. 
 
 birds and robins flitting about every bush and 
 tree, every one was out and busy. '1 he barge 
 Fair -Weather had suffered from the winter, 
 and the Captain, Robert, and Jerry were busy 
 repairing both it and the mill-wheel. It 
 was Saturday, and the children were all home 
 from school. The creek was very full, and 
 blocks of ice were sailing upon its swollen, toss- 
 ing surface. The Captain was in the mill se- 
 lecting some lumber ; Jerry and Robert plied 
 saw and adze on the bank ; Bop and the twins 
 careering about, leaped now upon and now off 
 the Fair -Weather as she was moored to the 
 bank. 
 
 " Children," cried Eliza, "come off that boat. 
 If you fall over, you will be drowned." 
 
 Bop obeyed, but the twins were the children 
 of the family who occasionally ventured diso- 
 bedience. At this instant the demon of rebel- 
 lion took possession of them. They danced on 
 the deck, and did not come. Eliza was laying 
 out clothes to bleach on the grass. She looked 
 at her recreant offspring. 
 
 " Pink, go bring me those twins. I shall tie 
 them up until they learn to come when they're 
 called." 
 
 Pink j urn pod upon the Fair- IVer.thcr and 
 set out to catch or chase on shore the iKicl.t
 
 Robert proves himself a Hero. 165 
 
 twins. But at that minute a wild roar was 
 heard ; the creek tossed tumultuously ; the ice- 
 gorge had given way with a rush ; an avalanche 
 of ice and water swept down against the Fair- 
 Weather ; her old cable broke ; she swung from 
 shore. Eliza shrieked for the Captain. Jerry 
 dashed toward the bank, but experienced the 
 disadvantages of a wooden leg, his leg stuck 
 in the soft sod and held him fast. Robert not 
 being blessed with a wooden leg, cleared the dis- 
 tance and flung himself upon the Fair-Weath- 
 er 's tiller, which had just been repaired. The 
 Captain appeared, Jerry got his leg out of the 
 hole, Eliza and Bop ran to the brink. The 
 Fair- Weather was out in the middle of the 
 stream and sweeping toward Lacy faster than 
 she ever went before. 
 
 " I'll take care of them, mother," shouted the 
 young captain of the suddenly improvised ex- 
 pedition, bending to the tiller to keep his craft 
 amid-stream. 
 
 The wicked twins, thus promptly brought to 
 judgment, dropped themselves on their faces on 
 the deck, and their wails pierced the heart of their 
 lately wrathful mother. Pink looked at Robert. 
 
 " Put all your strength on the tiller with me, 
 Pink," said Robert; "you and I will sail this 
 boat to Lacy, don't be afraid."
 
 1 66 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 Mr. Murray had just come up to the Moun- 
 tain, and was nearing the mill on horseback. 
 He saw what had happened, and, turning his 
 horse to the stream, followed on the bank the 
 course of the headlong voyage of the Fair- 
 Weather. Young Britt had just saddled a 
 horse to ride to Lacy. The Captain seized 
 that without ceremony and dashed after the 
 Superintendent. The creek roared and foamed 
 above its banks ; the ice-blocks hurled here and 
 there ; the clumsy, crazy old barge plunged 
 along the twins lying screaming on the deck. 
 Bending all their strength upon the tiller were 
 the bareheaded, handsome fourteen-year-old lad 
 in his patched and shabby raiment, and little 
 Pink, her auburn curls streaming out in the 
 breeze and her thin cotton frock blown about 
 her as she followed the motions of Robert's 
 arms, and he kept his eyes steadily fixed as he 
 steered the barge clear of the snags and rocks 
 and debris that would have wrecked her crazy 
 frame and flung all her passengers into the 
 seething flood. 
 
 A new bridge had been built at Lacy. Would 
 it stand the freshet and the ice-gorge ? If it 
 did stand, could Robert's arm guide the Fair- 
 Weather between the great piers of the bridge ? 
 If he put her through safely, could he turn her
 
 Robert proves himself a Hero. 167 
 
 toward the bank, where the broadening of the 
 river would greatly reduce the force of the cur- 
 rent ? These thoughts were in the heads of the 
 two frantic men who rode along the bank pre- 
 pared to fling themselves into the water, to res- 
 cue the children or perish with them if the poor 
 barge went to pieces. 
 
 The twins sat up on the deck and increased 
 the misery of the occasion by holding out their 
 arms and wildly screaming " Father ! " On they 
 went. It seemed to Captain Allen and the Su- 
 perintendent that it must be hours since they 
 began to follow that barge down-stream. Other 
 people came out to cry and wonder, and other 
 men on horseback turned about and rode with 
 them, and they knew that the strength of the 
 boy must be nearly exhausted struggling with 
 his unwieldy craft, and that the gallant little 
 girl at his side, doing her best, was lending but 
 small aid. They saw the twins, as if obeying an 
 order, rise and lean also on the tiller. The chil- 
 dren were now grouped together. The bridge 
 was in sight. People began to throng the banks 
 and the bridge. Some men hastily untied row- 
 boats and got out oars and ropes to follow the 
 barge. They were near the bridge. The water 
 boiled under the arches in fury ; the ice-blocks 
 crashed against them and piled up on the banks.
 
 1 68 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 Robert fixed his gaze steadily on the widest 
 space, the space between the piers. 
 
 " He'll make it !" roared some. 
 
 " He'll miss it!" shouted others. 
 
 The boy seemed to calculate marvellously well 
 the force and bearing of the current. On, on, 
 under ! He had bent all his young strength 
 upon the tiller, and through the arch, almost 
 grazing the pier, went the barge ; and then 
 Robert bore for the nearer shore, where the 
 widening waters went with less furious rush. 
 Boats put out to help him if they might, but he 
 got his craft out of the surge of the midstream, 
 and then brought her round toward the cove and 
 grounded the Fair-Weather at last on the sub- 
 merged bank, the poor old craft settling as if 
 in relief upon the soft, muddy shore. 
 
 The boats were about them now. The men 
 leaped on the deck. The proud Captain saw 
 them shaking Robert's hands and patting Pink's 
 tumbled head, and he and Mr. Murray rode 
 into the water until it rose above their horses' 
 knees, they were in such haste to be a little 
 nearer the rescued children. 
 
 Then the boats landed the little crew upon 
 dry ground, and the Fair-Weather was made 
 fast by cables, and no less than three carriages 
 were promptly offered to convey the children
 
 Robert proves himself a Hero. 169 
 
 back to their distracted mother. And as Cap 
 tain Allen drove out of town with his three chil 
 dren, and Robert mounted on the Britt hors. 
 rode close behind, with the Superintendent a' 
 his side on the roan, there was a deal Q\ 
 "Hooray!" and "Good luck!" and waving 
 of hats to congratulate the young captain on 
 the safe conclusion of his short and perilous 
 voyage. 
 
 Mr. Murray remained to supper at the mill 
 He invited himself. Secretly, Captain Allen 
 felt that it was not fair ; he was jealous of the 
 Superintendent's interest, and begrudged shar- 
 ing with him the triumph and joy of the occa- 
 sion. Captain 'Zekiel was ashamed of this feel- 
 ing ; he tried to hide it. After such a merciful 
 deliverance of his family, it was an enormous 
 sin to wish that lonely Mr. Murray should not 
 share the joy. The Captain had heard a sermon 
 preached on the two creditors, and he tried to 
 rebuke the grudging of his heart by going under 
 the mill and recalling the text of that sermon. 
 
 " O thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all 
 that debt, when thou desiredst me : shouldst thou 
 not have had compassion on thy fellow-servant, 
 even as I had pity on thee ? " 
 
 Then he took himself to task, and assured 
 himself that if he cherished such mean feelings,
 
 170 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 % 
 
 he would one day surely lose Robert altogether 
 as a judgment and serve him right. 
 
 After thus dealing with himself, he returned 
 to the kitchen, where Eliza was hugging her 
 four children in turn, having condoned the dis- 
 obedience of the twins, and Jerry was getting 
 their best supper of ham and eggs and fried po- 
 tatoes, and Mrs. Britt was standing with tears 
 in her eyes, and in one hand a great loaf of 
 cake which had just been baked for her own 
 tea, but was brought over as an offering to Rob- 
 ert, and in the other hand her one sole jar of 
 pineapple preserves to further grace this festive 
 occasion. 
 
 During the evening all the neighbors came 
 in, one after another, and to all the Captain 
 with growing joy told his tale. He could never 
 be weary of describing how Robert had man- 
 aged the Fair -Weather, how the boy had not 
 been one whit afraid, how he had remembered 
 every snag and every twist and turn, and what 
 muscle he had exhibited ! And he patted Rob- 
 ert's back, and held out his arm with pride in 
 its development, and gloried in the possession 
 of such a son. 
 
 Meanwhile, the unhappy Superintendent was 
 consumed with envy. Why was not this boy 
 his ? Why could not he claim the little hero ?
 
 Robert proves himself a Hero. 171 
 
 " Allen, Allen," he groaned aside, " you keep 
 him here, and some day, if you would give him 
 up, I could make a millionaire of him, perhaps." 
 
 " Would 1 give up a boy who has just saved 
 all my family ! " cried the Captain. " 'Liza, 
 you didn't think when I brought home such a 
 Bad Bargain, that stormy night, that he'd save 
 your three children from drowning, eh ?" 
 
 The Superintendent clenched his hands. Why, 
 why had he not been the one to rescue the lit- 
 tle boy from relatives who were going to send 
 him to the poorhouse ? " Robert," he whis- 
 pered, " I'll give you a watch to mark this day." 
 
 "Oh, no, please. I couldn't wear a watch 
 when we are so poor, and father hasn't any," 
 said Robert, flushing.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE WOMAN WHO WENT ON A LONG JOURNEY. 
 
 THE Fair- Weather made a more orderly voy- 
 age in June, and returned in safety. In July 
 the tourists of the preceding summer came back. 
 Jerry was engaged as camp cook; Robert as be- 
 fore was constantly in requisition. The camp 
 was on the creek, about half a mile above the 
 mill, and on the opposite side, at an especially 
 wild and beautiful spot. As there was so much 
 going to and fro between the camp arid the 
 Aliens' home, the young men of the camp asked 
 the Captain to build a bridge across the creek, 
 placing it just above the wheel, and extending 
 from the creek side of the mill to the opposite 
 bank. The bridge was made by setting four or 
 five logs firmly upright in the stream-bed among 
 the rocks, laying broad planks from log to log, 
 and supplying the slight structure with a single 
 hand-rail. For agile and steady-headed people 
 it was safe enough, now that the creek was low 
 for summer, and the Allen children ran across 
 it with the celerity and security of cats. 
 (172)
 
 A Long Journey. 173 
 
 There was a day in August when the school- 
 house congregation had their Sunday-school pic- 
 nic. Everybody went, both small and great ; 
 it was the gathering of the year. This year the 
 place chosen was five miles away, and the start 
 was made early in wagons laden with children, 
 baskets, and grown people. 
 
 Mrs. 'Liza and her children all went. Captain 
 'Zekiel did not go, he must stay to look after 
 the little work at the mill. Robert did not go. 
 One of the artists at the camp was painting 
 Robert as -'The Young Woodsman," and was 
 in haste to get the picture done, so Robert had 
 to spend the morning posing with an axe, and 
 a log, and a tame squirrel, one of Jerry's numer- 
 ous pets, perched on his shoulder while he fed 
 it. Robert set off up to the camp with his 
 usual bright face. " I'll come back at noon, 
 father, and cook our dinner. I'll make you an 
 omelette, just as Jerry makes at the camp." 
 
 The Captain was left alone at the mill. When 
 the sun-dial near the bee-hives marked noon, 
 the Captain had a visitor. It was not Robert. 
 A big, bloated, red-faced, untidy woman came 
 in at the mill door and someway, when the 
 Captain saw her, his heart sank. " Be you Cap- 
 ting Allen ? " said the woman. The Captain 
 nodded.
 
 174 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " 'Long about ten year ago, last spring, April 
 it was, you picked up a little boy on the road- 
 side down in Lacy, and you fetched him home, 
 and took care of him, didn't you ?" 
 
 The Captain nodded again. Dumb terror 
 gripped his heart. 
 
 " He's my boy, and I've come to take him 
 away," said the woman with assurance. 
 
 "Your boy?" shouted the Captain. 
 
 " Yes ; he's my boy. I wouldn't have left 
 him so long, only I've had a dreadful run of 
 hard luck. I was sick a long time, and out of 
 my head and in a hospital and a poorhouse 
 and I'm one of them as never has no good luck 
 happen to them. But now I've come to get 
 my boy. Where is he ? You just tell him 
 that his mother, his dear lovin' mother's come 
 to get him." 
 
 " His mother ! " cried the dazed and wretched 
 Captain; "you his mother? If you were his 
 mother, why did you leave him ? What did you 
 leave him for, I say ?" 
 
 " I dida't go to leave him, Capting," said the 
 woman. " I felt mortal sick, and he was little 
 and tired, and I says to him, ' Sit there, honey, till 
 I come back.' And I laid out to get some medi- 
 cine and a little glass of something to strengthen 
 me. And I got worse, and out of my head
 
 A Long Journey. 175 
 
 like, and I lost my way, and couldn't find where 
 I left him, and I wandered, and I got carried to 
 a hospital sick and so it went on ; and now, at 
 last, I says, ' I must have back my boy, my 
 dear, sweet, pretty boy,' so I found my way 
 back, and inquired, and it was told me, Capting 
 Allen of the mill had took the boy, and so I 
 come up here to you, and much obliged I am 
 to you, indeed and not to trouble you any 
 longer with him. Seeing he's mine, I'll take him 
 along back with me to-day, so call him to go 
 with his dear mother." 
 
 " You sha'n't have him," bellowed the Cap- 
 tain ; " he's been my boy this ten years. I'll 
 hold him against the world." 
 
 " Is he bound to you ? Did you get papers 
 made out ?" demanded the claimant, eagerly. 
 
 No ; the Captain had not gone through that 
 formality. He had found the child, and kept 
 him, and the boy had grown into his heart and 
 life. 
 
 " He's mine," said the woman. " I can prove 
 it. I mean to have him. He's coming with his 
 dear mother. Who else will support me in my 
 old age, if not my son ?" 
 
 " You forsook him. I've raised him. You 
 are not fit to have him. You are drunken. I 
 smell liquor on your breath this minute ! You
 
 1 76 The Captain s Bargain. 
 
 sha'n't have him. If you come up here think- 
 ing to get money from me for the boy, you're all 
 out. I haven't any money ; I'm as poor as 
 Job's turkey, but I'll not give you the boy. 
 We'll have the matter before the court. We'll 
 see if the boy is to be taken from decent folks 
 to be lugged off to the city slums by a woman 
 like you ! " 
 
 " I'll have him," said the woman, excitedly ; 
 "I will. Where is the boy? I'll tell him his 
 dear mother needs him, and he must come and 
 do for me like a good son." 
 
 Then over the Captain's troubled mind rolled 
 the great horror of having this woman, this 
 foul, leering, drunken creature, see the clean, 
 simple, handsome, generous, loving boy, and 
 claim to be his mother. What an awful revela- 
 tion for the lad reared by the just, sensible, 
 womanly Eliza, to be called son by this dread- 
 ful creature ! He changed his tone ; he must 
 get her away before Robert came. Deacon 
 Britt was the nestor and arbiter of the hamlet ; 
 he had been a justice of the peace ; he was a 
 firm friend of Robert and the Aliens; he should 
 frive his counsel. " The boy isn't here," said the 
 Captain, "he's away; but you come up with 
 me to Squire Britt's, and tell your story, and 
 give your proof, and we'll see how to settle it.
 
 A Long Journey. 177 
 
 Come along quick, I'm in a hurry ; I've work 
 to do." 
 
 But the woman was full of drunken cunning. 
 
 " I won't go until I see the boy. Go on with 
 your work. I'll wait for him. What does a 
 woman feel waiting to see her own dear, pretty 
 boy after ten years, and she a good, loving 
 mother as ever lived !" 
 
 The Captain clenched his hands and gritted 
 his teeth. In his fury he felt like picking up a 
 stick and cleaving the woman's head. " I'd 
 sooner kill you than let you have him ! " he 
 roared in a transport of fury. 
 
 " A nice man you are to bring up a boy," 
 cried the woman, who belonged to the unstam* 
 pedable. " I want my child ! Where is my 
 boy ! My son, my son, come to your dear 
 mother ! " 
 
 Alas ! the Captain, looking across the stream, 
 saw Robert, joyous, running down the path to- 
 ward the bridge. Beside himself with distress, 
 he foolishly cried, " There he is hush ! hush ! 
 hold your tongue, I say ! " 
 
 " Oh, there he is ; that's my boy, is it, running 
 to meet his own dear, loving mother ?" 
 
 Robert's foot was on the bridge. " Robert," 
 shouted the Captain, "stay where you are ! Do 
 not come on this side of the creek ! "
 
 178 The Captains Bargain, 
 
 Robert was not one of those pleasing young 
 people, who being told to do something, do 
 quite the contrary, and then ask what the order 
 meant. Nor did he belong to that other variety, 
 who meet a command with, ' why ' and ' oh, no ' 
 and 4 I won't.' If his father said, " Don't cross 
 the bridge," very good ; Robert did not cross 
 the bridge, though his foot was already on it. 
 If his father wanted him to stay on that side of 
 the creek, very good ; he could stay there, why 
 not ? He sat on the grass, and taking off his 
 old chip hat, let the cool breeze fan his heated 
 face. 
 
 44 I'll call him over," said the woman, angrily. 
 
 44 If I tell him to stop where he is, he'll do it, 
 if you call till you drop," retorted the wrathful 
 Captain. 
 
 44 Then I'll holler at him, and tell him I'm his 
 dear mother as lost him, pitiful, and he's to come 
 and take care of his dear loving mother." 
 
 44 If you call one word at him, I'll shout to 
 him to run back to the camp, and he'll go like a 
 shot," retorted the Captain, purple in the face. 
 
 Oh, how he wished for Eliza or somebody to 
 tell him what to do. 
 
 44 Then I'll go over to him," said the woman. 
 " I'll go over and follow him to the camp, or 
 clear round the world. I'll have my son. A
 
 A Long Journey. 179 
 
 pretty thieving man you are to keep parted a 
 mother and her boy ! " 
 
 She started for the wide back-door of the 
 mill, on the threshold of which rested the first 
 plank of the bridge. 
 
 "Don't go! Don't cross! Stop, woman, I 
 say ! " cried the Captain. 
 
 Not that he feared for her ; his family crossed 
 there dozens of times daily. It was Robert for 
 whom he feared. 
 
 The woman went on. The bridge was nar- 
 row and high over the howling creek for an un- 
 steady head. Moreover, for the part near the 
 mill, the planks were wet and slippery, being 
 constantly spattered with drops from the wheel. 
 The woman had gone but a few steps when her 
 feet slipped, her drunken brain reeled, her hand 
 relaxed its grasp from the rail, and she plunged 
 headlong into the rocky bed of the creek. The 
 creek was low. The water, deeper where she 
 fell, rolled her round once or twice and bore her 
 into a shallow. 
 
 R.obert, seated on the farther bank, saw a 
 strange woman essay to cross and then fall. 
 He flung himself to the rescue, a few strides, 
 where the creek was shallow. A few swimming 
 strokes in the middle, and he had reached the 
 woman and lifted her head above the water.
 
 180 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 Meanwhile the Captain had hurried down the 
 other bank and plunged into the water below 
 the wheel and came to the two. 
 
 " She's fainted, or something," said Robert. 
 " She couldn't drown in that little minute in the 
 v/ater." 
 
 The Captain lifted her by the waist, her head 
 hanging against his arms. 
 
 " Take up her feet, Robert," he said, " and 
 v/e'll carry her into the kitchen." 
 
 Robert wrapped the ragged wet garments 
 about her knees, lifted her feet as his father 
 said, and they struggled up the bank with their 
 heavy, dripping burden and laid her in the 
 kitchen on the wide soft lounge which was 
 Pink's bed at night. They took off her wet 
 dress and shoes and stockings. Robert took 
 a towel and rubbed her head, arms, and feet. 
 
 " Get mother's camphor-bottle, father, and 
 bathe her face," he said, returning to his author- 
 ity as chief nurse of the Allen home. 
 
 The Captain followed orders. 
 
 " She isn't dead ; her heart beats," said Rob- 
 ert, "and I see a little quiver here in her throat. 
 Father, the doctor goes about noon every day to 
 see old Mrs. Long ; go and see if you can catch 
 him to come here and I'll keep on rubbing her." 
 
 The Captain hurried off in silence. He feared
 
 A Long Journey. 181 
 
 to leave the boy alone with the woman, lest she 
 revive and speak, but the whole succession of 
 these events prostrated his understanding. He 
 could merely do each thing as it came up. A 
 doctor was needed. Well, he would call the 
 doctor. Had he been the means of getting the 
 woman into the creek ? No ; surely not. He 
 had called to her not to cross the bridge. True, 
 he had felt ready to kill her, but would he have 
 done it ? Evidently no. He went into the wa- 
 ter to save her. 
 
 Thus his brain ran on as he hurried to Mrs. 
 Long's, and luckily found the doctor. 
 
 Robert, left alone with the wreck of humanity 
 on the lounge, regarded her with horror. Her 
 soiled, torn under-clothing, her bloated frame, the 
 face set in unconsciousness, but bearing marks 
 of years of drunken sin, these sickened the boy, 
 whose native refinement was great, and who had 
 been reared in cleanness and innocence by Eliza 
 Allen. He went to the blue chest, got out a 
 clean sheet and laid it over the figure on the 
 lounge. Then he got a brush and smoothed her 
 hair and twisted it up as well as he could. Next 
 he put a few drops of ammonia in water, and 
 slowly poured them into the woman's mouth. 
 This seemed to revive her. She opened her 
 eyes and regarded Robert with a heavy stare
 
 1 82 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 that seemed to see nothing. There were mists 
 before her eyes. 
 
 " Brandy," she whispered, " give me some 
 brandy." 
 
 " We haven't any," said Robert. " I'll make 
 you some tea." Eliza had a little kettle over a 
 lamp. He lit the lamp, put a few tablespoon- 
 fuls of water in the kettle, and hastily made 
 some strong tea. He sweetened it, and began 
 to feed it to her. She swallowed feverishly. 
 Then said : 
 
 " Gin, boy ; gin ! A drop of gin, or brandy, 
 or or " 
 
 " We haven't any ; here, take this," said Rob- 
 ert, and he put a drop or two of ammonia into 
 the tea. " Take this." 
 
 She took it, but groaned, and closed her 
 eyes. Then Captain Allen came in with the 
 doctor. The doctor was a skilful man, learned 
 in accidents among the mines and lumber-camps 
 of the county. He began to handle the patient, 
 pressing here and there, lifted her eyelids, then 
 raised her up. She turned white with a cry. 
 
 " She was only in the water a minute or two," 
 said Robert. 
 
 "Pitched off the bridge, did she?" said the 
 doctor. " Dizzy ; she had been drinking. Who 
 is she?"
 
 A Long Journey. 183 
 
 " We don't know, we never saw her before," 
 said Robert. 
 
 " She came into the mill she wanted to 
 cross the creek on the bridge, and I told her to 
 keep off," said Captain Allen. 
 
 " What did she want ? what did she say ? " 
 asked the doctor. 
 
 " She wanted to see some one on the other 
 side," said the Captain. 
 
 " She is evidently a sort of tramp," said the 
 doctor, " but tramps never come here ; we are 
 all too poor and honest." 
 
 " I know," said Robert ; " she must have 
 heard of the camp ; they are rich there. She 
 no doubt wanted to go there to beg. That is 
 why she would cross the bridge." 
 
 " No doubt," said the doctor, and he went 
 out of the door with the Captain ; Robert fol- 
 lowed them. " There is nothing to do for her, 
 but I will leave an opiate in case she begins to 
 suffer overmuch. She will last only a few hours ; 
 not past six o'clock, probably. Her back is brok- 
 en. She must have struck a big boulder as she 
 went under. Her legs are dead already, quite 
 paralyzed. Let her lie where she is, as she is to 
 torture her by moving her would be cruel. I'll 
 drive round by the poorhouse, and speak to the 
 poormaster to come round here this evening
 
 184 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 for the body." Then the doctor mounted his 
 vehicle, which was a " buckboard" on a pair of 
 stout, low wheels, and rode off. 
 
 The woman lay as if insensible. The Captain, 
 still tossing in his mind these questions : " Had 
 he helped on a death so opportune for him ?" 
 " Was wishing her dead, a method of killing 
 her ? " sat looking on for an hour. Then he could 
 stand it no longer. " I promised," he said, " to 
 get out boards for the young gentleman for a new 
 shanty. I must go to work. You watch her, 
 Robert. Don't be frightened if she talks queer 
 to you, and says odd things. It will be raving, 
 you know. She may mix you up with others. 
 Don't heed her talk." 
 
 " Of course not," said Robert. But when his 
 father was gone he watched the dying woman 
 with a growing trouble. What a mystery wa<j 
 here ! Now she was part and parcel of this 
 world soon she would be away from this world 
 but where ? How, and how far was she to 
 go ? How would that other life move on ? 
 What kind of a life would it be ? He lifted 
 his head. The woman was looking at him. 
 "Where is my dress?" she said ; "what am I 
 here for ? I cannot feel my feet. I cannot 
 move my legs. I want to get up. I have a 
 long way to go to-night. You are coming with
 
 A Long Journey. 185 
 
 me. You need not take any of your things, 
 but go get on your best clothes, and come away 
 qjickly." 
 
 " You fell into the creek from the bridge," 
 said Robert, "and father and I took you out ; 
 and we took off your dress and shoes. You 
 hurt yourself that is why you do not feel your 
 legs." 
 
 " Are the dress and shoes dry ? Bring them, 
 and come, we will go off together. Rub my 
 feet, will you, boy ? " 
 
 Robert rubbed. She could not feel his touch. 
 " Harder ! Are you rubbing ? Pinch them ! 
 Stick a pin in them ! I cannot feel you touch 
 me at all. " 
 
 Robert bent over her, great compassion in 
 his big, brown eyes. 
 
 " You are going on a long journey to-night," 
 he said, " and no one can go with you ; you must 
 go alone." 
 
 " I won't go alone ; I mean to take you," said 
 the woman. 
 
 " You cannot take me or any one. Your 
 journey will be far outside of this world, into 
 the world to come. You are going to die. You 
 are hurt, and in a few hours you will be dead. 
 Your feet and legs are dead already. You are 
 going out of this world to stand before God."
 
 1 86 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " I don't know anything about God," said 
 the woman. 
 
 " But you must meet Him to-night. And He 
 will ask you what you did in this world ; and if 
 you have done evil, He will be angry with you, 
 unless you have repented. Now is your time 
 to repent and say you are sorry, and ask God to 
 have mercy on you. There is no minister here 
 to talk to you. The schoolmaster is away. 
 There is no one to pray for you ; but if you have 
 done evil, say you are sorry, for you are going 
 to die." 
 
 " You seem a kind boy," said the woman. 
 " And you pulled me out of the water, did 
 you?" 
 
 " Yes ; never mind that ; think, are you 
 ready to die ? " 
 
 " I wish you'd tell the man to come here, 
 I want to say a word to him," said the woman. 
 
 Robert went up into the mill. 
 
 " She wants to see you." 
 
 "What has she been saying to you?" de- 
 manded the Captain. 
 
 " Nothing. I told her she was going to die, 
 and she wants you." 
 
 " Robert ! " cried the Captain, eagerly, " go 
 stand on the middle of the bridge until I call 
 you!"
 
 A Long Journey. 187 
 
 Having thus provided for getting Robert out 
 of earshot, Captain Allen went to confess his 
 penitent. 
 
 Robert stood a long while on the bridge, 
 waiting like the " boy on the burning deck." 
 In truth, Captain Allen only remembered to 
 call him, when the woman seemed to be in 
 great agony and he did not know what to do 
 for her. 
 
 Robert thought of the opiate, and, as the doc- 
 tor had said it was the only thing to give her, 
 he administered it freely, and repeated the dose. 
 The woman sank into unconsciousness. Rob- 
 ert saw that Captain Allen was very pale ; his 
 eyes were sunken ; beads of sweat stood on his 
 brow. He sat by the table, laid his arms upon 
 it, and his head on his arms. The heavy breath- 
 ing of the woman sounded through the room. 
 After a time there was a rattling sound. 
 
 "She is dying!" said the Captain. "I wish 
 she had never come here ! " 
 
 He rose and put his arm about Robert. 
 
 " She is dead." 
 
 He led the boy out of doors. At that minute 
 a wagon drove up with the poormaster and the 
 doctor in it, and a pine coffin with a long, coarse, 
 white shroud. They went in and wrapped the 
 stranger's body in this garment.
 
 1 88 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 So it happened that Eliza and her four chil- 
 dren coming home from their pleasuring saw 
 several men carrying a heavy coffin out of their 
 kitchen. All this tragedy of death had happened 
 while they were having a picnic on a summer's 
 day. 
 
 But from the hour the tramp-woman crossed 
 the threshold of his mill, Captain Allen was a 
 changed man. He no longer had a jolly laugh 
 and a genial word for every one. His appetite 
 failed ; his sleep was broken ; his face was full of 
 gloom ; his words were tart. He no longer de- 
 ferred to the opinions of the woman-with-a-head- 
 on-her-shoulders, but contradicted and dissented 
 from her regularly, as if he felt that between her 
 views and his there must be some great differ- 
 ence. At night his dreams were frightful. 
 
 " You are going to be sick, 'Zekiel," said 'Liza, 
 "and I do wish you'd take some medicine. 
 That tramp-woman dying here has over-set you 
 completely. Robert did not take it as hard as 
 you do. You always were a man of great feel- 
 ings, 'Zekiel." 
 
 " Robert is only a boy. Boys don't realize 
 things, 'Liza." 
 
 " Well, you need to do something for yourself 
 or you'll be down sick. You mutter and toss 
 all night. Last night you dreamed you had
 
 A Long Journey. 189 
 
 killed that woman. The other night you 
 dreamed that you had put Robert down a 
 well ; and not long ago you dreamed you had 
 buried him alive. I told Jerry yesterday we'd 
 have trouble yet with you if you did not take 
 heed." 
 
 " I wish, 'Liza Allen, you'd not talk about me 
 to any one." 
 
 " I'll talk about you to the doctor if you don't 
 get better right soon, "Zekiel," said the resolute 
 Eliza.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 VI ET ARMIS. 
 
 "WHAT is wrong with you, father?" said 
 Pink, following her father into the mill one 
 day, and laying her hand on his arm. 
 
 " Nothing ! Why do you think anything is 
 wrong ? " he cried. 
 
 " You are so different, father. You are tart 
 to mother ; you boxed the twins' ears ; you 
 scolded Bop for making a noise ; you find fault 
 with me ; you speak cross to Robert and Jerry, 
 We never knew you to do so before. Father, 
 is the mortgage foreclosed, and you do not like 
 to tell us ? Or is there some other debt ? Must 
 we leave the mill ? Do tell me, father. You 
 are so changed, and we are all so unhappy. 
 Until now, though we are poor, we have been 
 very happy." Tears were in Pink's eyes. 
 
 " There is nothing wrong. Don't bother 
 me," said the Captain, stubbornly. But Pink's 
 words pursued him. He could not work. In 
 
 the mill Jerry and Robert seemed to regard 
 (190)
 
 Vi et Armis. 191 
 
 him anxiously. He went into the garden. He 
 saw Mr. Murray coming down the road and 
 dismounting at the mill. He noticed how pale 
 and sad Mr. Murray looked. He was more 
 bent than ever ; he seemed haggard and feeble. 
 
 " I came to say good-bye," said Mr. Murray. 
 " I am sick. I am going away. I shall go to 
 Europe or to the East. Very likely I shall lay 
 my bones there. What is the use of living, 
 alone as I am ? Ah, Allen, if you had only 
 been willing to give me the boy, and with him 
 a joy and interest in life, it might have saved 
 me ! But I cannot find my own boy, and this 
 one is the only other boy I ever cared for." 
 
 He passed into the kitchen. Allen followed 
 him. He felt that he ought to be very glad 
 that the Superintendent was going away. Mr. 
 Murray spoke to the rest of the family. Then 
 laid his arm on Robert's shoulder and looked 
 earnestly at him. " I should have a son like 
 you, Robert ! Then I might be content, and 
 live to do some good. Well, good-bye ; I leave 
 to-morrow." 
 
 He shook hands all around. Captain Allen 
 was so gruff, he was not even civil. Mr. Mur- 
 ray went out of the house. Then Captain Allen, 
 as reluctant, but forced to the act, followed him 
 to the door, and called out : " Mr. Murray
 
 192 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 won't you don't you want to stop to sup- 
 per?" 
 
 " Thank you, Captain. No." 
 
 The Captain came in growling. " Some folks 
 won't take a chance when it's offered 'em. They 
 won't give other folks a chance. He needn't 
 say I didn't stop him." 
 
 The family sat down to supper. " I think 
 poor Mr. Murray won't live long ; my heart 
 ached for him," said Eliza. 
 
 " I can't bear to see him so unhappy," sighed 
 Pink, "I like him so much. I can see his eyes now." 
 
 Robert looked at his plate in silence. He 
 could not eat. 
 
 " Boy, eat your supper !" cried the Captain, 
 loudly. 
 
 " I'm not hungry, father. Seeing poor Mr. 
 Murray has taken away my appetite," said Rob- 
 bert, gently. 
 
 " Eat your supper, and don't be a fool ! " cried 
 the Captain. 
 
 The family held their breaths in astonishment. 
 
 Captain Allen pushed away his plate, and 
 tramped out of the kitchen. He went to that 
 rubbish place under the mill. Long ago in that 
 damp, dark corner he had fought a moral battle, 
 and won a victory. Once more the Captain 
 was in sore conflict
 
 Vi et Armis. 193 
 
 Jacob wrestled all night at Jabbok. The eartl 
 is full of the scenes of unchronicled spiritua 
 struggles and conquests. The Captain remainec 
 under the mill until nearly midnight. When he 
 came in, Eliza alone was sitting up for him. She 
 looked keenly at him. 
 
 " 'Zekiel, where have you been so long ?" 
 
 " Under the mill." 
 
 "'Zekiel, I don't know what has got hold of 
 you." 
 
 " I'm afraid the devil has," said 'Zekiel, so- 
 berly. 
 
 " 'Zekiel Allen ! I wouldn't have believed it 
 if any one had told me !" 
 
 " Neither would I, a year ago," said the Cap- 
 tain. 
 
 Again he tossed restlessly, all night. There 
 are in earthly wars, victories that are so nearly 
 defeats, that the conquerors are kept waking 
 and watching on the hardly-won field, uncertain 
 whether morning may not find the foe in pos- 
 session. It is sometimes so in spiritual warfare, 
 we tremble lest we may not find ourselves hold- 
 ing a hardly secured vantage. 
 
 The Captain sat down to his breakfast, but 
 did not eat. He hastily drank two cups of 
 hot coffee, then surprised his household by 
 snatching his hat and rushing away from the
 
 194 The Cap fains Bargain. 
 
 house. At this Eliza burst into tears, and 
 wrung her hands. "I do not know what is 
 coming over your poor father ! He used to be 
 as cheerful, hearty, and good-tempered as the day 
 was long. Now he is as cross as two sticks. I 
 know he is losing his mind. His worries have 
 softened his brain. Oh, children, whatever shall 
 we do if he goes crazy ! " 
 
 The children had no plan of action to pro- 
 pose for so dire a contingency. Pink and the 
 twin girl wept with Eliza. Bop's sturdy little 
 fists were clenched in a fierce effort to play the 
 man, tearless. Robert put his arms about his 
 mother, and Jerry, clearing his throat vigorously, 
 looked out of the open door. Meanwhile the 
 Captain sped, as one pursued by the Avenger 
 of Blood, up the steep path to Deacon Britt's. 
 There he found the schoolmaster on the porch, 
 having just finished his breakfast. The Captain 
 called to him, breathless : 
 
 " Schoolmaster, I want you to come where 
 no one will hear us talking. I have things to 
 say to you." 
 
 The master led the way to the orchard, where 
 the fruit was ripening red and golden in the 
 autumn sun, and the dew lay yet along the 
 grass. No one could come within earshot 
 without being seen.
 
 Vi et Armis. 195 
 
 " Schoolmaster, have you seen Mr. Murray 
 lately ? " 
 
 " Yes. He looks very poorly; he is leaving 
 to-day, on the train at eleven o'clock." 
 
 " Did he ever tell you his story, school- 
 master ?" 
 
 " No. He once had a wife and child. They 
 are dead. I know nothing more. He never 
 speaks of himself." 
 
 " He spoke to me," said the Captain ; " he 
 told me," and he rushed into the Superintend- 
 ent's sad story. 
 
 " Stop, stop ! " said the schoolmaster, after a 
 moment. "These are very private affairs, 
 meant only for you, as he confided them to 
 you. You should not tell them to me, Captain. 
 It is a breach of faith." 
 
 "I must tell you," said Captain Allen, "and 
 you must hear me. Listen, I tell you " and 
 he went on with the Superintendent's story. 
 " Do you not think, schoolmaster, that a man 
 who lost his child in such a way, has no further 
 right to him ? What business had he to take 
 the child out against its mother's wishes to 
 drink with his baby in his arms ? He lost him 
 by his own fault. He deserves to be lonely." 
 
 "Allen, Allen, that is not the voice of 'Chris- 
 tian pity. Where should we all be, if with God
 
 196 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 there was no forgiveness of sins ? I know your 
 heart aches for that poor father who for all 
 these years has vainly looked for his child. 
 But unhappily your pity and mine cannot re- 
 store his son." 
 
 The Captain looked moodily on the ground. 
 " If he is sick and going to die, it would do his 
 son no good to be found by him ; he would be 
 with him just long enough to be spoiled and 
 then left an orphan. The Superintendent will 
 not suffer much longer." 
 
 " I think grief is killing him, and joy would 
 cure him." 
 
 " He's had his chance, and thrown it away," 
 said Allen. 
 
 " Allen, he has greatly wished for Robert. 
 Is it this that is on your mind ? Are you feel- 
 ing that you ought to give up your boy to 
 him?" 
 
 " Schoolmaster !" cried the Captain, with vio- 
 lence, " Robert is his son. Robert is the boy 
 he lost ! " 
 
 "Allen, what are you telling me? How do 
 you know it ?" 
 
 " You know the tramp-woman that died at 
 my house ? She had come for Robert. She left 
 him at the village. She came to claim him, 
 she said he was her son. I wouldn't have given
 
 Vi et Armis. 197 
 
 him to her ; but you know as she tried to cross 
 the creek to speak to him, she fell, and that was 
 her death. When she found the boy was the 
 one who told her, and he did not guess she had 
 ever had to do with him when she found she 
 was going to die, she called for me and told me 
 the truth. She said she saw the child in his 
 father's arms sitting on a bench in Central 
 Park. The child cried, and the father gave 
 him his watch and his pocket-book to play with. 
 The woman saw that the father was intoxicated 
 and did not know what he was doing. Pres- 
 ently he put the child down on the bench, and 
 said he would go and get him some candy. No 
 one was near and this woman thought she would 
 take the pocket-book and the watch from the 
 child. But when she went near to it the child 
 held fast to the things, Robert always was a 
 plucky one ! and she saw he had a ring on his 
 finger, a gold chain on his neck, and a rich 
 dress. Schoolmaster, I think children are pret- 
 ty enough as they stand, without fixing them 
 up like popinjays. Well, she was greedy, and 
 thought she would take the child off so she 
 could strip him, and then she would leave him 
 somewheres, and r>he wrapped him up in her old 
 shawl, head and ears, and off she went to a 
 slum where she lived. But she found the
 
 198 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 pocket-book had a hundred dollars in it, and 
 her husband told her she would get ten years 
 for stealing the child, and she had better get 
 away with it. They thought if a reward was 
 offered, if they had time they could fix up a 
 story and be safe for the reward. So the woman 
 took the midnight train for Philadelphia. Her 
 husband, and a couple of boys they had, went 
 there to her after a little, but there was such a 
 hue and cry raised about the child they dared 
 not say anything. They got rid of the money 
 drinking, and sold all the things but a little 
 shirt with the child's name on it, which the 
 woman kept, hoping that some day she might 
 hear of a reward for finding the child, and man- 
 age to obtain it. And she kept the inside case 
 of the watch ; she had to break it out before she 
 sold the watch, for on the case is Mr. Murray's 
 full name, and ' from his wife.' She kept those 
 t-vo things. Well, when they had a drunken 
 fight the man, and his two sons, her step-sons, 
 u^cd to threaten to tell about her stealing the 
 child. It scared her so that after about four 
 years, she took occasion of her husband's being 
 i i jail, to go off and lose the child. She took 
 him up here to Lacy, on a night train, left him 
 on the road-side, and went off to Harrisburg 
 and stayed six months. But this summer she
 
 Vi et Armis. 199 
 
 was in New York, and coming upon an old 
 paper she found that ' five thousand dollars and 
 no questions asked ' was offered for the child. 
 She made up her mind to come after him, and 
 to say that he was her own. She thought she 
 would find him in the poorhouse. She did not 
 know Mr. Murray was up here ; the child was 
 to be taken to a lawyer in New York. She had 
 fixed up a story about her sister having stolen 
 him, and told her when she was dying, and given 
 her the watch-case and shirt. But you see, 
 schoolmaster, all her plans went wrong. When 
 she found she had to die, she told me the truth, 
 and when I saw the watch-case I found on it 
 the Superintendent's full name, and the whole 
 story jibed with what he had told me. So, there 
 it was. Robert is Murray's son." 
 
 " And you have not restored the child to the 
 father?" 
 
 " He is my child," cried Captain Allen pas- 
 sionately. " I love him as well, perhaps better, 
 than my own. There never was such another 
 boy as Robert. He is our best comfort. It 
 would kill 'Liza to lose him. Pink and Bop 
 and the rest would break their hearts. We have 
 worked for him ; we have reared him ; we have 
 loved him. What right has Murray to him, I 
 say?"
 
 2OO The Captain s Bargain. 
 
 "And you did not tell Eliza?" 
 
 The Captain hung his head. 
 
 " Because you knew that Eliza's voice would 
 speak with your conscience, 'Give back thu- 
 child!' The Scripture provides for the return 
 of the strayed ox, or ass, or sheep, how much 
 more for the lost child ? If we may not rob our 
 neighbor of his gold or his garb, how much less 
 of his own flesh and blood ? If we are forbid- 
 den to covet all else that he has, are we not es- 
 pecially to refrain from coveting his child ? 
 Allen, your course toward Robert was noblest 
 charity, until it became foulest sin ! " 
 
 " Must I give him up ?" cried Allen in a voice 
 of agony. 
 
 It was like the echo of the old cry: " How 
 r-hall I give thee up, Ephraim ? how shall I de- 
 liver thee, Israel? how shall I make thee as 
 Admah ? how shall I set thee as Zeboim ? " 
 
 " It is hard, but you must do it, Allen. Have 
 you been happy and contented keeping this to 
 yourself?" 
 
 " No ; I have been a curse to myself and my 
 family." 
 
 " Come, Allen ; there is no time to lose. 
 Murray will be leaving soon. We must get up 
 the Mountain to his home. Come, man, let us 
 run for it. The sooner done, the better."
 
 Vi et Armis. 201 
 
 Through the orchard they turned straight up 
 the steep side of Lai's Mountain ; struck from 
 the foot-path to the bridle-path, up, on toward 
 Mr. Murray's little lonely dwelling. Doors and 
 windows were open. Boxes and bags and 
 trunks -were standing ready to be carried to 
 the station. Mr. Murray was alone in his sit- 
 ting-room, his face resting wearily in his hands. 
 He hardly spoke as his guests came in warm and 
 panting. 
 
 " Mr. Murray," broke out the schoolmaster, 
 " you have often asked Allen here to give you 
 Robert, and 
 
 Mr. Murray sprang up. 
 
 " Allen, have you had pity on me ? have you 
 changed your mind ? have you come to give me 
 that boy that I love like my own ? " 
 
 " No, I haven't ! " shouted Allen. " I don't 
 give him, but you will take him. Every man 
 takes his own where he finds it. Take your son 
 if you must. He is yours, the boy you lost, 
 and there's the shirt he had on his little back, 
 and there's the case of the watch you gave him 
 to play with, and if you want another token, he 
 had three vaccination -marks set in a straight 
 line on his arm, and 'Liza says it is a born shame 
 to spoil a child's arm like that." 
 
 Murray gazed stupefied at the watch-case,
 
 2O2 The Captain s Bargain. 
 
 and the bit of linen, sewn long before by his 
 wife's fingers. Then as some prostrate serpent 
 gathers itself together, erects itself, flashes fury, 
 quivers, expands, makes ready for a spring, the 
 Superintendent's form uplifted and expanded, 
 his eyes blazed, ruddy anger mounted over his 
 face, his despondent voice rose to loud wrath, 
 and he turned upon Allen. 
 
 " My boy ! you had my boy and kept him 
 from me ! you refused to give me my son ! you 
 heard the story of my loss and misery ! you with 
 your home full of children, robbed me of my 
 only one ! " 
 
 "Mr. Murray, Mr. Murray ! he did not know," 
 interposed the schoolmaster. 
 
 " And when did he know ? When did he come 
 by these tokens ? When did he find out that the 
 boy was mine ? " 
 
 " When the tramp-woman died at the mill," 
 said the Captain, like a culprit at the bar, " then 
 I knew, she told me. She had come for the 
 boy to give him up to you or your lawyer in 
 New York. She told me, and she gave me 
 the things." 
 
 "That tramp-woman! A month, a whole 
 month ago ! a month that I have been dying 
 by inches, a month that I have been eating my 
 heart out ! I was at your house even last night,
 
 Vi et Armis. 203 
 
 and you were dumb. I should have known the 
 boy by his mother's eyes by his mother's heart 
 in him ! You have never told me the truth 
 about finding him, or I might have suspected. 
 A month a whole month I have been robbed 
 of my child. You scoundrel ! you villain ! you 
 kidnapper ! you thief ! " 
 
 After this outburst of gratitude, Mr. Murray 
 dashed out of the room, flung himself on the 
 roan that stood saddled ready to take him to the 
 station, and down the steep path he went at 
 breakneck speed. 
 
 Captain Allen and the schoolmaster were left 
 alone. 
 
 " He has gone to carry off Robert," gasped 
 the Captain ; " I shall never see my boy again. 
 Perhaps I deserve it. He called me scoundrel, 
 villain, thief ! I have felt all that this last month, 
 schoolmaster. But how I have loved that boy, 
 and I have lost him !" 
 
 " Come, Allen, let us hurry down to your 
 house," said the master ; " we may get there be- 
 fore he takes Robert off. We must try and 
 comfort Eliza and the children. Bear up. You 
 have done well. You have been a father to the 
 boy. You yielded for a time to temptation, 
 but you have conquered it. Come." 
 
 They plunged into the grass-grown path to-
 
 204 The Captain s Bargain. 
 
 ward the mill. It is on record that the school- 
 master made only two remarks on the way down. 
 
 First : 
 
 "The trailing arbutus is a most beautiful 
 lower, but it is not half so beautiful as that 
 [Lower of the soul human gratitude." 
 
 Second : 
 
 "The Lobelia-fulgens is a very rare plant, 
 but it is not half so rare as that plant of the 
 soul human gratitude." 
 
 While the schoolmaster announced these two 
 particulars, Captain Allen said not a word. The 
 t\vo men strode along toward the mill, and, for 
 t!ie only time in his experience, the schoolmas- 
 ter was missing at morning school, and the 
 urchins assembled devoted the hours to "tag" 
 and " leap-frog," instead of to multiplication- 
 tables and spelling. 
 
 Meantime, Mr. Murray, filled with fierce 
 emotions, exultant joy at finding the long-lost 
 son ; triumph in finding him such an one as all 
 could admire ; wrath against poor Ezekiel Allen, 
 who had for a month defrauded him of his pa- 
 ternal rights, went wildly toward the mill to 
 claim his own. Hope took possession of him ; 
 joy filled him ; courage rose ; life seemed to 
 beat in his pulses with returning force. 
 
 He burst in upon the little family left lament-
 
 Vi et Armis. 205 
 
 ing by the Captain's hasty departure. Mrs. 
 'Liza, thoroughly miserable, had retired be- 
 hind the stove with her apron to her eyes. 
 Pink, whose little fingers were never idle, was 
 monotonously knitting a stocking now and 
 then polishing away a tear with the blue wool- 
 en leg that depended from her needles. Rob- 
 ert stood by her chair, his face clouded and anx- 
 ious. The twins felt in duty bound to be miser- 
 able, but they had seized the occasion of their 
 mother's self-absorption to take a holiday, and 
 had got into a corner to play " mumbledy-peg." 
 
 Jenv felt it indecorous to work while family 
 misfortunes brought a sort of Sabbath of sorrow 
 into the week. He leaned against the door- 
 frame, and eyed his wooden leg malevolently. 
 Bop had made an effort to bring order out of 
 confusion by piling up the breakfast dishes, of 
 which his mother was for once oblivious, but 
 his efforts ended in sitting in his father's chair 
 and leaning his round, red head upon the table. 
 Bop's world seemed to have come to a sudden 
 end. Into this silence and misery burst Mr. 
 Murray, all excitement. 
 
 " My son ! Where is my son ? Robert, come 
 to your father ! " 
 
 He seized Robert and hugged him to his heart 
 in a passion of love and joy.
 
 206 The Captain s Bargain. 
 
 4 
 
 " My son ! my own son ! my lost boy ! Oh, 
 why is not your mother here to have back her 
 child ! My boy ! my boy ! " 
 
 Eliza sprang up. 
 
 "Mr. Murray, what do you mean? Surely, 
 " Zekiel Allen has not given him to you ? " 
 
 " Given him to me ? No, indeed, Mrs. Allen ; 
 I take what is my own. I take the boy that you 
 have cruelly and wickedly kept from me. What 
 right had you to keep him, when I was pining 
 and perishing in my sorrow ? It was wickedly 
 done. I should have thought a woman and a 
 mother would have had more heart. Robert, 
 my son, leave these people who have been de- 
 frauding us both of our just rights. Come, 
 now, with your father, who will give you all 
 the best that is in the world. Let us be off at 
 once." 
 
 Poor Mrs. 'Liza, who had never heard a word 
 of Mr. Murray's story, or of his lost child, who 
 had had no hint about the confession of the 
 tramp-woman, heard in amazement. 
 
 " Robert," she cried, " what does he mean ? 
 Has all the world gone mad at once ?"
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 MR. MURRAY BUILDS CARD-HOUSES. 
 
 " DON'T wait for any of your things, Robert," 
 cried Mr. Murray. " You want none of them. 
 I will give you all the things you want. The 
 train leaves at eleven, it is now just on ten, we 
 roust be off. This is no place for you, my son ; 
 you are rich, you are a gentleman born ; come 
 away with me to your rights." 
 
 In fact, Mr. Murray was beside himself. 
 
 " Here's the Cap'n running down the hill !" 
 cried Jerry. 
 
 " The schoolmaster's with him ! " cried the 
 twins ; and conscious of truancy, slid under the 
 big lounge. 
 
 " Oh, the schoolmaster will help us ! " ex- 
 claimed Eliza ; " he will not be crazy, like the 
 rest of the world." 
 
 " My dear boy, why are you not coming?" 
 said Mr. Murray to the astonished Robert. 
 
 The Captain, red, breathless, was in the kitchen. 
 
 " Father, what does it mean ! " exclaimed 
 
 Robert. 
 
 (207)
 
 208 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " I am your father. Don't call him father !" 
 shouted Mr. Murray, unreasonable in his excite- 
 ment, and resenting the habit of years. 
 
 " Father, tell me am I his son ? " 
 
 " 'Zekiel, 'Zekiel, if you are not out of your 
 mind, let us know what it all means. Is Rob- 
 ert to go away ? " 
 
 " You are his son," said the Captain, hoarse 
 and red-eyed, and looking at Robert, his lips 
 trembling. 
 
 " 'Zekiel, have you given our Robert away?" 
 
 " No, 'Liza no, my poor woman, no ; but 
 Robert was born his son, and his father means 
 to take him." 
 
 " Certainly I do. The way you have kept 
 him from me has been most outrageous ! Rob- 
 ert, come along at once." 
 
 " Consider, Mr. Murray," said the schoolmas- 
 ter, " that until now these good people have 
 been true, kind parents to your child, and did 
 not know of your claims and you take him 
 from them, suddenly." 
 
 " They knew it for over a month for a 
 month they have robbed me most shamefully." 
 
 " Sir I never robbed you, and never knew 
 of any claim that you had," said Eliza, indig- 
 nantly. 
 
 " And only for a month," cried the master,
 
 Mr. Murray Builds Card-Houses. 209 
 
 " has the Captain known. He has not told his 
 wife. Mr. Murray, you are unreasonable and 
 i .ukind. Mrs. Allen, the truth is this: Mr. 
 Murray had a child who, when only a year old, 
 was stolen from him. The woman who stole 
 the child, alarmed at her deed, deserted him, 
 four years later, in Lacy. Your good husband 
 rescued him, protected him, loved him. The 
 woman who had abandoned him came here, a 
 month ago, to get him to restore to his father. 
 She told the whole story to the Captain, and 
 since then, he has kept it to himself, because 
 he could not bear to part with Robert, and 
 knew how you would all grieve at losing him. 
 To-day, conscience has prevailed and he has 
 told the truth. Robert is without doubt Mr. 
 Murray's lost son, and the father has the first 
 claim upon his child. He must go with his 
 father." 
 
 "So he must. I have lost him, and you have 
 had him quite long enough. It is time the ta- 
 bles were turned ! " cried Mr. Murray, still 
 wildly nursing his grievances. " Robert, are 
 you not glad to find the most indulgent, affec- 
 tionate father in the world ? Do you not love 
 me, my son ? Surely you will not rob me of 
 your love. Come, let me get you away from 
 those who have set you against your own father.
 
 2io The Captains Bargain. 
 
 Bid these people good-bye, and come with me, 
 my son." 
 
 For answer, Robert sprang into the arms of 
 Eliza, hugged her with all his might, and bend- 
 ing his handsome head upon the little woman's 
 shoulder, cried in unison with her crying. Pink 
 seized Robert's elbow and held fast, as if she 
 defied Mr. Murray, or all the fathers in the 
 world, to take him away. The twins, crawling 
 out from under the lounge, burst into shrieks 
 and wails at seeing their mother and Robert 
 weeping. Bop tried to be a man, crowded his 
 fists into his eyes, and got behind his father ; 
 the Captain, dropping into his chair, bent for- 
 ward and hid his face in his big, rough hands ; 
 Jerry, seeing the misery of the whole family, 
 heartily, and without any thought of selfishness, 
 remarked : " He wished he'd have been the one 
 that turned out to belong to Mr. Murray, for it 
 broke the folks all up to lose Robert." In fact, 
 to Jerry's mind, leaving the Aliens and the mill, 
 even in favor of a rich father, seemed unmiti- 
 gated misery. But for the sake of his benefac- 
 tors he would have been willing to sacrifice him- 
 self. But no tragic parent was waiting for the 
 one-legged and one-eyed orphan of twenty-five. 
 Robert was the " Lost One Found," and Rob- 
 ert had to go. Mr. Murray was ready to tear
 
 Mr. Murray Builds Card-Houses. 211 
 
 him from Eliza's arms. The schoolmaster in- 
 terfered. 
 
 " Robert, you must go with your father. It 
 should be your happiness to comfort him after 
 all his sorrows. Mrs. Allen, let the boy go. Do 
 not feel so unhappy ; it will be for his good 
 and he will come back to see you." 
 
 But here Mr. Murray, possessing himself of 
 the arm of Robert, to which Pink had clung, re- 
 marked that, " They had had enough of him. 
 He meant to keep him now that he had found him. 
 They seemed to have no regard for his rights." 
 
 Eliza, kissing Robert, whispered, " Go, my 
 boy. You must. Be a good son, as you have 
 been to us. I will always be your mother. You 
 will never forget us." 
 
 Robert was too dazed with the mutations of 
 his state to resist or to remonstrate. He kissed 
 Pink and the other children, shook hands with 
 Jerry, bent his face to Captain Allen's downcast 
 face, and said : 
 
 " Good-bye, father, good-bye. You have been 
 the best father that ever was to me." 
 
 Captain Allen only groaned. Mr. Murray 
 jealously remonstrated. 
 
 " Don't call him father. I am your father, 
 and I shall be ten times better to you than ever 
 he has been."
 
 212 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " No, you won't," said Jerry, angrily, " because 
 you can't. Tisn't in nater to be a better father 
 than 'Zekiel Allen makes." 
 
 During this remark Mr. Murray pulled his 
 new-found son from the house, and bidding him 
 mount behind him on the docile roan, rode off 
 toward the station, without grace of a good-bye 
 or a word of thanks to the protectors of his son. 
 Robert, his eyes full of tears, kept his head 
 turned toward his only known home, until a 
 bend of the road hid it from his sight. Mr. 
 Murray could only remember the Captain's er- 
 ror, in hiding for a month the truth about Rob- 
 ert. He recalled the times he had asked to 
 have the child given to him, the times when 
 Captain Allen had tried to keep the boy from 
 attaching himself to him, and he reckoned all 
 these times as within the period of the Captain's 
 knowledge of the Superintendent's paternal 
 rights. His anger, almost foundationless as it 
 was, towered up and hid from him all his vast 
 indebtedness to the Captain and his wife. Mur- 
 ray, yielding to a vice, had lost his child, and 
 given him over to every possible misery. Cap- 
 tain Allen, finding the child, a poor pitiful stray, 
 had fed, clothed, housed, loved, taught him ; 
 had given him name and family and friends ; 
 had sacrificed to him the very appetite that in
 
 Mr. Murray Builds Card-Houses. 213 
 
 his father had been his destruction. Out of their 
 poverty the Aliens had maintained this lost 
 child. Once Mr. Murray had offered a large 
 sum if the child should only be given to him. 
 He did not think of that offer now ; he took 
 Robert as his right. Mr. Murray had also of- 
 fered five thousand dollars to any one who would 
 restore his boy. Of that he did not think when 
 he carried Robert away from his impoverished 
 protectors. Doubtless it was because in the 
 deep heart-feelings of the hour it was impossible 
 for so poor a thing as mere money to enter. 
 Even later it did not enter Mr. Murray's mind; 
 he was filled with the feeling that Captain Allen 
 had been his enemy, had usurped his place in his 
 son's heart, had kept Robert from him. 
 
 They reached the train only a few moments be- 
 fore it left. When the whistle blew, and the car 
 from the junction started for Lacy, then did 
 Mr. Murray feel as if at last his son was re- 
 stored to him, and belonged fully to himself. 
 Every instant widened the separation between 
 him and the Aliens. He had no care, no 
 thought for anything but Robert. His servant 
 would, according to previous orders, care for 
 the luggage at the chalet, and for the horse. 
 Mr. Murray wished never to see Lacy again, 
 and especially that district of Lai's Mountain.
 
 214 The Captain's Bargain. 
 
 The plan of his life was changed. He no lon- 
 ger thought of leaving the country. No ; now 
 he would stay and do well for Robert. Rob- 
 ert must be educated ; Robert must be intro- 
 duced to friends ; Robert must be pushed on in 
 life ; Robert would inherit a good fortune ; Rob- 
 ert must learn to love his new-found father, bet- 
 ter than the people whom he had left ; Robert's 
 mind must be weaned from the past. Mr. Mur- 
 ray's heart sang but one song, Robert, Robert, 
 Robert. Why had he not, by divine parental pre- 
 science, recognized his child, years ago, he asked 
 himself. No doubt a mother's heart would 
 have realized the tie which his nature had ig- 
 nored. One minute he upbraided himself, the 
 next the Aliens. 
 
 At last they had left Lacy behind. Few peo- 
 ple were in the car. Mr. Murray put his arm 
 about Robert's shoulders, and drew him near to 
 him. He took from his pocket two pictures. 
 
 " Here, my son, is your mother's picture, and 
 yours, at the age when you were stolen from 
 me. What a fool I have been not to recognize 
 in you your mother's eyes and hair." 
 
 Robert looked at the picture. The lovely 
 young face of his dead mother was very differ- 
 ent from the plain, care-worn, mature face of 
 Eliza Allen, but there was the same mother-
 
 Mr. Murray Builds Card-Houses. 215 
 
 look in each. He felt sure that his dead mother 
 would have loved and blessed his living foster- 
 mother, for her care of him. In truth, it seemed 
 easier to think of this pictured-wornan as moth- 
 er, than of Mr. Murray as father ; for Robert's 
 heart was sore, and his sense of justice wounded, 
 by the abuse that the Superintendent had show- 
 ered on Captain Allen and his family. 
 
 When we are young, and our experiences are 
 narrow, we are apt to be severe in judging oth- 
 ers, being too ignorant of human nature to 
 make allowances. The other day I heard one 
 say, " How easy your own faults make it for 
 you to forgive others ! " Knowledge of our 
 own faults has not always this beneficent effect, 
 but it should have. Robert had neither seen 
 enough, nor felt enough to cover with the 
 mantle of charity his new-found father's wrath. 
 His mind was not with the Superintendent, nor 
 with the future ; but with the crestfallen Cap- 
 tain, the sturdy Bop, the weeping Eliza, and 
 Pink. 
 
 But Mr. Murray, with his arm clasping close- 
 ly his new-found son, was telling in his ear the 
 painful tale of his loss ; of his mother's grief and 
 death of heart-break ; of his own long, miserable 
 search, and the years whereof he could write 
 that he " had no pleasure in them." Such a
 
 216 The Captains Bargain 
 
 story could not but touch Robert's heart. A mist 
 gathered in his eyes as he looked at the picture 
 of his mother, and he felt that it should be his 
 duty and his happiness to comfort the so-long- 
 wretched father, who was ready to pour upon 
 him all the fullness of his love. 
 
 From the story of the past Mr. Murray went 
 to plans for the future. " Robert," he said, " I 
 will do for you whatever you wish. We shall 
 make a man of you. The first thing will be to 
 send you to a first-class school, where they will 
 push you on in languages and mathematics. 
 You have wasted your time long enough on 
 such a little paltry school as that of the Moun- 
 tain. You must be hurried up to the level of 
 other boys of your age. And such a school as 
 I will select will attend carefully to your man- 
 ners. I daresay you have been eating with steel 
 forks, and not using finger-napkins, and have 
 never seen a finger-bowl. All these little refine- 
 ments of life you must learn, to fit you for the 
 society you will live in. You are fifteen : much 
 can be learned and done before you are twenty- 
 one. Then I will take you abroad ; you shall 
 see the world. After two years of foreign travel, 
 you shall come home, and go into business. Or, 
 Robert, perhaps you would prefer the army. If 
 you do, say so. I have influence enough to get
 
 Mr. Murray Builds Card-Houses. 217 
 
 you into West Point. The schoolmaster says 
 you are very diligent and bright. In two years' 
 time you could be amply fitted for West Point. 
 You would come out an officer. I should like 
 to see you with a pair of epaulettes on your 
 shoulders. Would you like it ? " 
 
 " I don't know, Mr. Murray," faltered the 
 amazed lad. 
 
 " Mr. Murray! I'm your father, boy." 
 
 " Father, I mean I forgot." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I see, habit, habit. Well, we 
 must form a new habit. On second thought, I 
 should not prefer the army. It would keep you 
 from me too much, and then you might be killed 
 in an Indian skirmish, or in a war if we had a 
 war. Your life is too precious. How would 
 you like the navy? I have influence to get you 
 into Annapolis Academy, and you could be 
 tutored for the admission examinations. You 
 would make a splendid naval officer, I am sure. 
 How would you like to be captain of a man-of- 
 war ? Something better that than the barge 
 Fair- Weather, eh ? You might become Com- 
 modore or Admiral, eh ?" 
 
 " Yes, Mr. M father, if you choose." 
 
 "Yes. But, on second thought, I should 
 not like the navy. I could not sail with you. 
 The navy would part us too much. I need to
 
 218 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 see you near me, to make up for all these lost, 
 lonely years. We will not think of the navy, 
 my son. How would you like to go to the 
 Polytechnic, and graduate, and be a mining 
 engineer? That is a fine, useful, manly busi- 
 ness. We could travel over all the West to- 
 gether. You would become an expert, an au- 
 thority. When you saw a chance for invest- 
 ment, you would have money to invest, and 
 some venture might be as fortunate as was that 
 of Agassiz, when he bought mines near Lake 
 Superior. If you incline rather to literature, 
 Robert, you could devote yourself to study, 
 study in Europe, and come home to be a col- 
 lege president. That would suit me very 
 well. I should be proud of you. Or, if you 
 have a taste for politics, study law ; your money 
 will, at once, give you friends and influ- 
 ence. You could be sent to Congress ; be 
 Governor of your State ; get one day to the 
 White House ! I wonder could I live long 
 enough to see you inaugurated President of the 
 United States ! " 
 
 In fact, if Captain Allen had been glorieux 
 when he found Robert, Mr. Murray was now .#- 
 tf/^from the sudden joy of getting back his long- 
 lost boy. He ran on, in a state of excitement, 
 presenting picture after picture of possible honor,
 
 Mr. Murray Builds Card-Houses. 219 
 
 fame, luxury, success, to the bewildered lad, 
 who, half his heart yet clinging to the mill, 
 Pink, 'Liza, 'Zekiel and Co., could only hear 
 amazed, and say, " If you wish "; " Yes, if 
 you like "; " Yes, Mr. Murray I mean, father." 
 
 But the train was getting over the ground 
 well, and they were nearing Philadelphia, and 
 the cars were filling. The Superintendent's 
 mind turned to nearer interests. He took a 
 fresh start in planning. The gorgeous card- 
 houses of future honors were abandoned in favor 
 of smaller card-houses of present conveniences. 
 Robert, a handsome, well-grown lad, wore an 
 old, faded, outgrown suit, too short in sleeve and 
 leg, and with more than one patch, neatly set 
 by Eliza. His shirt was of striped cotton, his 
 shoes cowhide, and his blue stockings, knit by 
 Pink, were in plain sight at the ankles. Mr. 
 Murray's fatherly pride took note of these de- 
 ficiencies, and of the old felt hat that had seen 
 two years' wear, and survived many a lively tussle 
 with Bop and the twins. 
 
 " We will get our dinner at the station res- 
 taurant," Mr. Murray said, " and then we will go 
 to a tailor, and get you fitted out from head to 
 foot, before we go to a hotel. We will give 
 orders for more" clothes too, handsome clothes, 
 the best there are. We must go to a barber's.
 
 220 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 It is a pity that such beautiful curly hair as yours 
 has been so villainously cut ! " 
 
 "Mother always cut my hair," said Robert. 
 
 " Mrs. Allen ? Don't say mother of her, your 
 mother is dead." 
 
 But though Robert's heart could say mother 
 of the fair-faced one who had nursed his baby- 
 hood, and died for lack of him, he must say mo- 
 ther also of that valiant, self-denying Eliza, who 
 had been true mother to him for the ten years 
 within his clearest memory. He was silent at 
 Mr. Murray's pettish remonstrance, but his heart 
 said " mother, mother, mother" of Eliza. 
 
 All was hurry and stir until they were in the 
 quiet, handsomely-furnished room of a first-class 
 tailoring establishment. 
 
 " I want this young gentleman fitted out with 
 a full wardrobe of your best," said Mr. Murray. 
 " Have you a nice suit in stock to begin on ? and 
 you can take his measure for two others. What 
 are the styles ? Knee-breeches ? Brass buttons, 
 plain cloths, silk-finished cords? Robert, how 
 would you like one suit in deep navy-blue, and 
 one in fine, dark bottle-green ? " 
 
 " If you please, Mr. Mur father," said Rob- 
 ert. 
 
 " We have a handsome, deep brown corduroy 
 knee-breeches suit, with Norfolk jacket," said
 
 Mr. Murray Builds Card-Houses. 221 
 
 the tailor. " Made to order was a little small. 
 I am sure it would fit this young gentleman." 
 
 " Bring it," said Mr. Murray. " Do you keep 
 hats and caps ? Can you order a trunk to put 
 the goods in ? Will you send out for shoes and 
 slippers to try on ? Take it in charge, will you, 
 and fit him out completely at once. Suppose 
 we begin at the furnishing department and get 
 shirts and silk underwear and let him put a suit 
 on. How many of each article should he have?" 
 
 The merchant had a conscience. Although 
 here was a rich, lavish, excited customer, he 
 did not think it right to make him buy out the 
 whole store. He said as Robert was a growing 
 boy, a half-dozen of things would be enough. 
 So they adjourned to the furnishing department, 
 and Mr. Murray held up neckties to try their 
 effect on Robert's complexion, and disported 
 himself generally rather like a mother buying 
 a dress for a pretty daughter's first party, than 
 like the father of a big, muscular lad, who had 
 lived for ten years in a saw-mill and was now 
 about to go to school. 
 
 Robert was fairly frightened at the amount 
 of goods bought for him. What ! four elegant 
 neckties? His father, -Contain Allen, had for 
 two years worn the same black-silk stock fash- 
 ioned by the prudent Eliza. What ! six pairs of
 
 222 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 fancy-colored half-hose? And how ignominiously 
 were the blue woolen stockings knit by dear little 
 Pink discarded. Robert longed to rescue one, 
 but dared not. What ! thirty dollars for that one 
 suit of dark-brown silk corduroy ? Thirty dol- 
 lars ! Had Eliza and Pink had as much spent 
 in dress for them for the last three or four years ? 
 What would they say, what would they think 
 to see him now ? And to tell the truth, when 
 he saw himself in all his new glory reflected in 
 a long glass, he wished they could see him !
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " THE MAKING OF A YOUNG GENTLEMAN." 
 
 IT was long after dark when Robert and his 
 new-found father left the tailor-shop. Measures 
 had been taken for two more suits of clothes, 
 and an overcoat trimmed with fur. Robert 
 could now hardly realize himself. He wore the 
 finest of clothing throughout ; on his feet were 
 a pair of the best shoes that eight dollars could 
 buy ; his cap cost five dollars. He had hitherto 
 only worn mittens in the coldest weather ; now 
 he had on tan - colored kid gloves. A hem- 
 stitched, linen kerchief stuck out of his breast- 
 pocket. A trunk was already nearly packed 
 with what Robert considered a lavish, wasteful, 
 unnecessary supply of clothing, and was to be 
 sent to the hotel. Next, Mr. Murray took his 
 son to a barber-shop to have his hair dressed ; 
 and then to a fine bazaar, where he bought him 
 a dressing-case with a quantity of ivory-backed 
 brushes, and other knick-knackery. 
 
 " We will now go to the hotel and leave buy- 
 
 (223)
 
 224 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 ing your other things until to-morrow," said Mr. 
 Murray. 
 
 " You have bought me more than enough, 
 and more than I shall ever use," said the sturdy 
 Robert. 
 
 " I have plenty of money," said Mr. Murray. 
 
 " I know that but well, it seems wrong to 
 have all these things when other people have 
 none." 
 
 " You have a right to them if your father can 
 pay for them," replied Mr. Murray, proudly. 
 " You will see how much better it is, being 
 with your true father, than with people like the 
 Aliens." 
 
 "You give me what I need, with you, and 
 what you can afford," said Robert, earnestly, 
 "and they did the same. It comes to the same 
 thing, sir, as far as I can see and and I have 
 known my mother to go without clothes that she 
 needed, so that I could have shoes for winter " 
 ixnd tears were in Robert's big, steadfast eyes as 
 lie spoke ; for now he had two pairs of fine shoes, 
 r.nd a pair of worked slippers, and he remem- 
 l.ered that his good "mother's" shoes were 
 patched, and Pink's, oh, poor Pink's, were 
 nearly out at the toes ! 
 
 " You are not bound to measure what you 
 have by what other folks have," said Mr. Mur-
 
 "The Making of a Young Gentleman" 225 
 
 ray. " We are going to the hotel. Have you 
 ever seen the Continental Hotel ? " 
 
 " Outside, I have," said Robert, placidly. "I 
 never went inside that to sell jam and honey and 
 butter, but I went inside a lot of the others." 
 
 "My goodness!" cried Mr. Murray. "I 
 don't see what those Aliens meant by sending 
 my son about as a huckster ! " 
 
 " But I was their son then," said Robert, 
 " and I am afraid we might have all starved if 
 we had not tried something like that. I in- 
 vented the jam-selling, and we made money by 
 it too, and I was awfully glad to do it. They 
 treated me well at the hotels, and some of them 
 told me I would make a fine business man. I 
 hope I will." 
 
 " Yes, yes," said Mr. Murray. " I hope, my 
 son, that you will succeed in whatever you undei- 
 take." 
 
 They walked on in silence to the hotel. Mr. 
 Murray was inwardly resentful that " those 
 Aliens" had sent his son on trading expeditions 
 to the doors of hotels and boarding-houses ; and 
 Robert was calculating how long it was likely 
 to be before he could go into business, " and 
 make a whole lot of money," and send it in toto 
 to Captain 'Zekiel, to pay off the mortgage, re- 
 pair the mill, build a house, replenish the ward-
 
 226 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 robes of all the family, and put " well, as much 
 as two thousand in the bank." 
 
 They reached the hotel, and were taken to 
 two fine communicating rooms. Then they 
 went down to supper, and Mr. Murray watched 
 Robert's every motion, and kept up a very dis- 
 comfiting whisper about " do so, don't do so ; 
 not this, not that," and poor Robert, who had 
 heretofore eaten his humble meals in blessed 
 peace, was driven nearly out of his wits. Still, 
 Eliza Allen had been fairly careful of her chil- 
 dren's manners, and Robert was naturally refined 
 and delicate in his ways, so that really he was 
 conducting himself properly, and Mr. Murray 
 was very proud of him. His hints were chiefly 
 the outgrowth of nervous excitement, and a 
 captious feeling that the pupil of "the Aliens" 
 must need correction. Among the persons in 
 the dining-hall were several whom Mr. Murray 
 knew, and great was his pride in introducing the 
 tall, handsome Robert as " My son "; and hear- 
 ing the compliments that were paid him. 
 
 " I heard you were going abroad, Murray," 
 said one. 
 
 " I have changed my mind. I shall remain 
 here to attend strictly to the education of my son, 
 and defer going abroad for five years, until I can 
 take him," said Mr. Murray, flushed and happy.
 
 "The Making of a Young Gentleman'' 227 
 
 The next day Robert's new father went out 
 with him again. Then there was more buying. 
 A knife ; how glad Robert was that his own 
 knife, a gift from Mr. Murray, was accidentally 
 in Bop's pocket, not his, when he left " home." 
 A Russia-leather pocket-book when could he 
 fill it for them ? 
 
 " Oh, you must have a Bible," said Mr. Mur- 
 ray, and went in and bought a fine Oxford 
 Teacher's Bible. 
 
 Eliza had once given Robert a six-cent Testa- 
 ment on Christmas, and he had left it at " home " 
 on the shelf in the wall at the head of his bed. 
 
 " My dear boy, the Bible should be from your 
 own dear mother. What a loss you have had 
 in losing her. She would have taught you and 
 helped you as I cannot. All I can do is to write 
 in this Bible, ' Our Son. In memory of his dead 
 mother.' ' 
 
 Yes, Robert liked and would value that. But 
 there was the living mother, who had earned the 
 six pence which paid for the little black-cloth 
 Testament. She had written his name in it, 
 and the verse, "Wherewithal shall a young man 
 cleanse his way ? By taking heed thereto ac- 
 cording to Thy word." And she had taught 
 him texts before he could read ; she had told 
 him Bible stories ; she had heard him say his
 
 228 The Captain's Bargain, 
 
 prayers, kneeling with Pink on one side of him, 
 and Bop on the other, when they were all little 
 dimpled creatures. It hurt Robert to have all 
 this care of Eliza's ignored, but he saw that 
 mention of the Aliens irritated his father. But 
 the glory of that day was a visit to a jeweller's, 
 where Mr. Murray bought a very good watch, 
 with a short, modest chain, and presented them 
 to Robert. Oh, what a watch ! It was not in 
 the heart of a human boy to resist such a watch. 
 It was a joy to own that watch, even though he 
 remembered that Captain 'Zekiel had none. 
 
 Well, whatever Mr. Murray saw he wanted 
 to buy for Robert, a scarf-pin, sleeve-links- 
 whatever he could do to make of this sturdy, 
 simple, honest boy, a ridiculous young dandy, 
 Mr. Murray was ready in his folly to do. Not 
 that he would be willing to change this decent, 
 generous, unselfish, humble spirit, into a vain, 
 self-conceited, lazy trifler. He took means to 
 that end without a thought of that end. It 
 was a true blessing of heaven, that ten years of 
 hard work, humility, self-sacrifice, and sound 
 training had made Robert hard to spoil. 
 
 " Wine, sir ? Wine for you and the young 
 gentleman ?" said the brisk waiter at dinner. 
 
 " No !" cried Mr. Murray. " Why don't you 
 go about saying arsenic, prussic acid, strych-
 
 "The Making of a Young Gentleman" 229 
 
 nine, if you must vend poisons ? Try them 
 for a change." 
 
 "Oh, sir!" remonstrated the waiter, "our 
 wines are the very best." 
 
 " Warranted to kill at sight like the rest ?" 
 said the irascible Mr. Murray. 
 
 The waiter went off smiling. " Temperance 
 crank," he confided to the other waiters. 
 
 After dinner Mr. Murray asked Robert to 
 wait in their rooms for him. He went off, and 
 came back with a roll in his hand. He sat 
 down, and wiped his face, with a long sigh. 
 
 " Robert, you understand, you know, how it 
 was that I lost you ? I was drunk. By that 
 drinking I broke up my home, caused your poor 
 mother's most unhappy death, lost you, black- 
 ened all my life. Robert, you can see how I 
 love you but I would far rather see you dead 
 than given to wine or strong drink. Robert, 
 have you ever signed a pledge ?" 
 
 " No, sir. But I've heard plenty of temper- 
 ance. Mother was great on that. They called 
 me ' The Captain's Bargain ' because father bar- 
 gained he would never drink a drop more, if I 
 stayed with him." 
 
 " I wish I had made such a bargain with my- 
 self, when God gave you to me first," said poor 
 Mr. Murray, " then I should never have heard
 
 230 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 you, my only child, calling strangers ' father 
 and mother. 1 Well, Robert, I want you to sign 
 a pledge. I want to feel safe about you to 
 make you safe. I know you will keep to what 
 you pledge and promise. I went out and bought 
 a Pledge here it is. Read it over, my son. 
 Read it and think about it, and then sign it, if 
 you mean to keep it to the very last letter, in 
 the fear of God." 
 
 " Of course I'll sign it," said Robert ; " lend 
 me your pen, please, father. I know what it 
 means. I should keep it without signing. My 
 mother made a temperance man of me long 
 ago. I never thought of anything else." 
 
 " Well, I'm glad she did," said Mr. Murray. 
 " I see, I must owe everything to these Aliens." 
 
 "Why not?" said Robert, frankly. "I'd 
 have been in a poorhouse only for them. There, 
 it is signed, father." 
 
 " I see I have forgotten to buy you a pen, 
 Robert ; come out, and I will buy you a gold 
 pen, and a writing-desk. You will not owe 
 them to any one but me." 
 
 That writing-desk was a true treasure, for it 
 was well stocked, and had, among other things, 
 postal-cards and letter-stamps. That evening, 
 while his father talked to some friends, Robert 
 managed to send off a card to the Captain. In the
 
 "The Making of a Young Gentleman" 231 
 
 morning, while his father was yet asleep, Robert 
 rose, and wrote a long letter to his mother, Eliza, 
 telling how good his new-found father was, and 
 how lavish in gifts, and how fond of him. And 
 then he wrote, that he knew he should never 
 be happy anywhere but at the mill ; he would 
 be glad to give up all his new possessions, to 
 go back and be "their boy" once more. All 
 the things in the world would not make up for 
 his mother, and dear Pink. They might be 
 sure he thought of them every hour in the day. 
 Eight pages of clear, boyish writing did Robert 
 mail to the Captain. Over that letter the en- 
 tire Allen household cried again and again. 
 The schoolmaster read it, proud of his pupil's 
 head and heart ; the Britts read it, all the dis- 
 trict read it, and agreed that Robert deserved 
 all the best that the Superintendent could do 
 for him, and that " the Aliens had had a dread- 
 ful loss." 
 
 " But he'll never get back here. Mr. Murray 
 will not let him out of his sight again," said 
 Deacon Britt. 
 
 But Mr. Murray's pride and ambition for 
 his son were equal even to letting him live 
 apart from him for a time. A week after he 
 had carried Robert off in triumph from the 
 mill, he said to him : " My dear boy, it would
 
 232 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 be very pleasant for us to go on living here, at 
 the hotel, buying things, and seeing sights all 
 day long ; but at that rate you would become 
 an idler, and after idleness comes mischief. I 
 must not spoil the industry and uprightness 
 that have always been so beautiful in you, to 
 me. You must go to school." 
 
 " I like to go to school," said Robert. 
 
 " But this will be a very different affair from 
 the red school-house up on the Mountain. You 
 must apply yourself to Latin and French and 
 German. I have been to see the master of a school, 
 about ten miles from the city. He says, as you 
 have had so few advantages, and are so far be- 
 hind other boys, you had better board at the 
 school. You will be able to give closer atten- 
 tion to your studies. I will go out to see you 
 every Saturday afternoon, and once a month 
 you shall come here Friday evening, and stay 
 until Monday morning. I wanted you to have 
 a room by yourself, so that I could furnish it 
 up handsomely, but the master says he has the 
 boys in dormitories, six or eight in each, and 
 that it will be far better for you to be with the 
 rest, as you have seen so little of other boys." 
 
 " But I have seen a great deal of other boys," 
 said Robert ; " I have always known plenty of 
 boys."
 
 "The Making of a Young Gentleman." 233 
 
 " I mean boys of your own station in life, 
 young gentlemen, nice boys." 
 
 " 1 don't think there could be nicer boys than 
 those I knew on the Mountain," said Robert. 
 " They knew all kinds of games ; they could 
 ride, and swim, and dive, and fish, and shoot, 
 and climb. They minded what was said to 
 them, told the truth, learned their lessons, were 
 all teetotalers, and were never ugly or saucy to 
 the girls. You don't know, father, what nice 
 boys were at our red school-house." 
 
 " Yes ? Well, no doubt you will be just as 
 pleased with your new schoolmates. I hope 
 you will be happy at the school. Even if you 
 do not like it there, you know school-life is nec- 
 essary for you, and the more diligent you are, 
 the sooner it will be over, and I will take you 
 to see all the famous countries of the old 
 world." 
 
 Robert made no answer. He did not say 
 what he might have said truly, that Lai's Moun- 
 tain looked to him far more beautiful than all 
 the countries of the old world, and that he was 
 full of a deadly home-sickness for the mill and 
 the dear faces there. The reverence which Eliza 
 had inculcated for parents and eiders restrained 
 him, and to it was added Lai's Mountain respect 
 for the great man, the Superintendent. As yet,
 
 234 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 Robert had not been able to lose the Superin- 
 tendent in the father. 
 
 "They will be rather strict at the school," said 
 Mr. Murray. " I meant to give you ten dollars 
 a month for pocket-money, but the master only 
 allows two dollars." 
 
 " That will make no difference to me," said 
 Robert, "for I have never had any money to 
 spend." 
 
 " Still, you should become accustomed to the 
 use of money. I think I shall give it to you just 
 the same, and you can take two dollars of it to 
 school. What will you do with the rest ? How 
 will you spend it ? " 
 
 " I shall not spend it," said Robert ; " I shall 
 put the whole ten dollars in a bag every month 
 and keep it in my trunk. Ten dollars a month 
 will be a hundred and twenty dollars in a year." 
 
 Mr. Murray shook his head. 
 
 " Early poverty makes of some men misers, 
 of others spendthrifts. One extreme is about 
 as bad as the other. Money hoarded, money 
 wasted, alike curse the world. Money is valu- 
 able only for what good it will secure for us. 
 What good will money do in a trunk ?" 
 
 " In two years," said Robert, " I shall have 
 two hundred and forty dollars. Then T shall 
 send Pink for a year to a school where she can
 
 "The Making of a Young Gentleman" 235 
 
 learn music. You don't know how Pink loves 
 music. She sings just like a bird. I heard 
 mother ask the master once about schools where 
 Pink could learn music, and the cheapest was 
 two hundred dollars a year. The forty dollars 
 would pay her car-fare and buy her some shoes 
 and frocks. Mother said a music-school was far 
 out of Pink's reach. But it will not be if I pay 
 for it." 
 
 "And you would save up every penny for 
 two years for that?" cried Mr. Murray, in a 
 vexed tone. 
 
 " Of course," said Robert. " I never have 
 had money to spend. And you are so kind to 
 me, father, and give me so many things, that 
 there is nothing left for me to buy." 
 
 This planning for the benefit of the Allen 
 family did not' stir up Mr. Murray to consider 
 his own obligations to them. It rather stirred 
 up his wrath that the Aliens had so large a share 
 of his son's heart. In his paternal feelings he 
 was so unreasonable that all whom Robert loved 
 seemed his father's rivals and enemies. He told 
 himself that it was quite time Robert went to 
 school, where hard study, a new phase of life, 
 and the sports of boys who were used to the 
 city and the boarding-school, and had nothing 
 in common with mills, barges, country schools,
 
 236 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 and little red-headed maids in calico gowns, 
 would wean Robert's thoughts from the Allen 
 household. Pink and Eliza seemed to Mr. Mur- 
 ray the especial foes of his peace. He pointed 
 out to Robert one of the ladies who lived at the 
 hotel and came down to breakfast daily in a 
 splendid silk morning-robe. 
 
 " Now, Robert, there is a lady ; the kind of 
 lady you will see in society when you are a man. 
 What do you think of her?" 
 
 " She looks very well, but not very useful," 
 said the boy, " and I don't think her face is half 
 as nice as my mother's my mother Allen's, I 
 mean for I never saw any face half as nice as 
 the one in my real mother's picture." 
 
 " I'm glad you have sense to appreciate that," 
 said his father. " And what do you think of 
 those two little girls in dark blue, at the other 
 end of the hall ? " 
 
 " They don't begin with Pink," said Robert, 
 scornfully. 
 
 " Pink has red hair. I don't like red hair, 
 myself." 
 
 " Oh, father ! Pink's hair is the most beauti- 
 ful gold color ! Sometimes you cannot tell it 
 from the color of mother's wedding-ring ! And 
 Pink's eyes are just as blue as the sky, or as 
 violets. And Pink is so kind to the twins, and
 
 "The Making of a Young Gentleman? 237 
 
 so nice to her mother. I heard that biggest girl 
 say, ' Indeed, I won't/ to her mother yesterday ; 
 and that other one gave her little brother a slap 
 for getting some candy on her dress. Pink and 
 mother are worth the whole lot in this hotel ! If 
 you'd only go up there, and get acquainted with 
 them, father, you'd see " 
 
 Robert's eyes shone with eager pleading. But 
 Mr. Murray was an obstinate and a jealous man 
 He shook his head again. 
 
 " No, no, you've seen quite too much of them, 
 Robert." 
 
 Robert and his father were sitting in their 
 room reading, the next evening, when Robert, 
 hearing a deep sigh, looked up, and saw that his 
 father had sunk back in his chair, his face very 
 white, and that he seemed quite unconscious. 
 He sprang to him, wheeled his chair to the 
 window, which he threw open, then bathed "his 
 face, and rubbed his hands, and loosened his 
 necktie and collar. Presently Mr. Murray re- 
 vived a little. 
 
 " Give me that bottle of medicine from my 
 dressing-case, Robert. There, help me to the 
 sofa. No, don't ring I'm used to this." 
 
 He lay for a time quietly. Then he said, as 
 Robert kept close by him, and looked distressed: 
 
 " You were frightened, my boy ?"
 
 238 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I thought you were dead ! I 
 never saw any one faint before, except Mrs. 
 Britt, once. Are you better now ?" 
 
 " Yes. Ever since my troubles in losing you 
 and your dear mother, I have had these attacks. 
 You felt badly to see me so, did you, Robert ? " 
 
 " Indeed I did," said Robert, resting his head 
 on Mr. Murray's prematurely gray hair. 
 
 At the sight of Mr. Murray lying as if dead, 
 the boy's heart had recognized, as never before, 
 the filial tie. He knew that he loved this late- 
 found father. 
 
 "Robert," said Mr. Murray, presently, " what 
 would you have done if I had died ? " 
 
 Robert was silent. 
 
 " Tell me, my son, suppose that I had died, 
 what then?" 
 
 " Why I suppose I should have gone back 
 to the mill. Where else could I go, father ? " 
 
 " And what would you do with all your 
 money, my son ? " 
 
 "What money, sir? I would not have any 
 money, would I ? " 
 
 " Of course, you would have all mine. Are 
 you not my only son and heir? You would 
 have many thousands, Robert. What would 
 you do with your money ? Speak up." 
 . " I should do with it just whatever my mother
 
 " The Making of a Young Gentleman" 239 
 
 told me to," said Robert. " I should make 
 father Allen take all that they need, and I 
 should do as mother advised with the rest. 
 Every one says mother is a businesswoman, and 
 has such a good head. But, don't ask me things 
 like that, please, father. You won't die, will 
 you ? Are you sure you are better ? I couldn't 
 bear to have you die, you know." 
 
 This assurance gave some consolation to poor 
 Mr. Murray in the midst of his jealous suspicion 
 of the Allen influence.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 "A TOKEN OF MY TRUE LOVE." 
 
 THAT night while Robert slept soundly, Mr. 
 Murray, in the next room, spent many wakeful 
 hours. Since finding his son, Mr. Murray had 
 thought of nothing but the joy of the present 
 hour. He seemed to have a new lease of life, 
 and to see, in prospect, many happy years spent 
 with his boy. Robert should become all that 
 his father's most ambitious dreams forecast for 
 him ; he should escape the moral rocks and 
 quicksands whereon his father's life had come to 
 wreck ; his father would renew his own youth, 
 and live a new and better life in the son. But 
 the fainting fit in the evening, and the short 
 conversation after it, had filled Mr. Murray with 
 new fears. If he should die, his son would re- 
 turn to the Aliens, and soon forget the father 
 who had been so short an episode in his life. 
 All the Murray fortunes would be bestowed on 
 the Aliens, who, as poor Mr. Murray insisted 
 
 on believing, had robbed him of his boy, usurped 
 (240)
 
 "A Token of my True Love" 241 
 
 his place in his child's heart, refused to give hir , 
 his own son ! 
 
 Mr. Murray resolved at once to perform tw 
 neglected duties. He would go to a physicia:, 
 of eminence, and have a thorough examinatioi 
 of his own physical state, and learn what were 
 his probable prospects of life. Then he would 
 go to a lawyer, and have a will drawn up, leav- 
 ing his property to Robert, in the hands of a 
 Trust Company, and appointing two guardians 
 of his person, so that he should not go back to 
 Lai's Mountain. Moreover, as Allen influence 
 was so strong in the lad's heart, Mr. Murray 
 concluded to give him more time to outgrow 
 it, and determined to set not twenty-one, but 
 twenty-four, as the time when Robert should 
 come into possession of his property. He was 
 determined not to allow Robert to throw him- 
 self and his money away on " those people at the 
 mill." 
 
 Therefore, when breakfast was over, Mr. Mur- 
 ray said, " I have business, Robert, which will 
 keep me away from you until our six o'clock 
 dinner. I suppose you know your way about 
 the city, and can entertain yourself. I will give 
 you some money to spend. Here here are ten 
 dollars." 
 
 He handed Robert a ten-dollar bill. They
 
 242 The Captain s Bargain. 
 
 went out upon the hotel steps and Mr. Murray 
 signalled a carnage for himself. 
 
 " Enjoy yourself, Robert. Go to Fairmount 
 Park or somewhere. But, stop. A ten-dollar 
 bill will be large to change ; here is a two, also, 
 in case you need car-fare or some small thing." 
 
 He stepped into the carriage and drove off, 
 leaving Robert with the open pocket-book in his 
 hand, and the two bills looking out of the Rus- 
 sia-leather pockets. Oh dear, how very glad he 
 would be if he could put that money in Eliza's 
 hand and beg her to use it for the family. But 
 he knew the sturdy independence of Eliza and 
 her family. She would not take a gift of money, 
 that money being Mr. Murray's gift to him. 
 She had not refused Robert's earnings ; she took 
 them freely when he gave them, just as she free- 
 ly shared her earnings with him. But this money 
 would be different ; she would not accept it. 
 Then came the happy thought : she would not 
 refuse ; she could not return a present pur- 
 chased as a token of his love with this money. 
 He had the whole day before him. Why should 
 he not go shopping ? Why should he not spend 
 that twelve dollars in a gift to each member of 
 the beloved household and send it to them to 
 show them that his heart was with them, though 
 in bodily presence he might not be with them
 
 "A Token of my True Love." 243 
 
 for years ? There was a store where Eliza had 
 liked to trade, and where she had been wont to 
 say that goods were cheap and well-selected, and 
 the young girl-clerks were very good and atten- 
 tive. There Robert would go and do his shop- 
 ping. But what should he get, and how much 
 would twelve dollars buy ? Who could tell 
 him ? He would throw himself upon the mer- 
 cies of a girl-clerk. 
 
 Now, as it was early in the day, before the 
 tide of shopping began to flow fast and furi- 
 ous through the big store, when Robert, a 
 very handsome and winsome fifteen - year - old 
 boy, most faultlessly arrayed, put his face in- 
 side the door of the huge establishment, he 
 saw behind a counter, standing at ease, a very- 
 smiling and pretty maiden, with rosy cheeks and 
 golden hair, a kind of eighteen-year-old Pink. 
 To her, as to a tutelar angel, did Robert turn 
 for counsel and direction. 
 
 " If you please, Miss, I want to buy a present 
 for my mother and sister." 
 
 " Yes ? Fancy goods ? laces ? albums ? 
 Which department of the store will you go to ?" 
 
 " I think I had better get dresses." 
 
 "Oh," said the damsel, taking in Robert's 
 fine linen, bottle-green cloth, and tan-colored 
 kid gloves. " Something in silk, then ?"
 
 244 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 Robert was quick-witted enough to see the 
 situation. 
 
 " No, if you please," he said, sitting down be- 
 fore the counter and bending over to intrust 
 his confidences to the maiden. " They are my 
 adopted mother and sister, and the rest they 
 live in the country and they are poor. I want 
 to send them all presents, and I have twelve 
 dollars, and I want to make it go as far as I can. 
 I wish you would help me pick out the things. 
 I never went shopping before. I can sell things, 
 but I don't understand buying." 
 
 " I see," said the damsel. 
 
 So she slipped from behind the counter and had 
 a short interview with a stout " floor-walker." 
 
 " I may go with you and help you do your 
 shopping," said the girl, coming back to Rob- 
 ert. " We have some excellent bargains in 
 dress-goods, if you don't mind last winter's 
 goods instead of this fall's patterns. How old 
 is your sister ? " 
 
 " She is thirteen, and she has blue eyes and 
 yellow hair." 
 
 " Is your mother a big woman ?" 
 
 " No ; she is a little woman. She is thin, and 
 not so tall as you are. She is dark." 
 
 " Now, I know about the colors and the num- 
 ber of yards you will want," said the obliging
 
 "A Token of my True Love." 245 
 
 girl, " so let us go to the bargain counter. But 
 tell me, first how many other presents must 
 you get out of the twelve dollars ? " 
 
 "There is the little sister the twin she is 
 ten. I would like to get her a calico dress. 
 Besides these, are father, Bop, Jerry, and the 
 other twin, the boy. I want to get them all 
 something, and I must save out enough to pay 
 for sending the package up to Lai's Mountain." 
 
 The girl consulted a book. 
 
 "We can send the parcel for you for fifty 
 cents. Will you get handkerchiefs and neck- 
 ties for your father and the boys ? We have 
 some very good bargains in those things just 
 now. Or stockings, we have a very cheap line 
 of stockings." 
 
 " Pink knits all the stockings." 
 
 " She must be busy, then, to knit for such a 
 lot of them." 
 
 " She is busy. She always has her knitting 
 in hand. But then, for Jerry, one stocking is a 
 pair ; for you see he has one wooden leg, and 
 that saves him one stocking." 
 
 " I hope none of the rest are so unlucky," 
 said the girl, laughing. 
 
 " No, they are not. And then, too, Jerry has 
 only one eye. But for all he has only one leg, 
 and one eye, he can run the mill."
 
 246 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " Ah ! a mill, is it ? That accounts for the 
 one leg and the one eye. Mills are terribly dan- 
 gerous places. I wonder they leave any one 
 alive that goes near them." 
 
 " Our mill is not dangerous. And, then, it 
 was not the mill that hurt Jerry. Whiskey did 
 it!" 
 
 " Oh ! Well, I hope Master Jerry has re- 
 formed. He had better have left whiskey alone. 
 Let it alone, I say, and it won't hurt you." 
 
 " I think you make a mistake there," said 
 Robert. "Jerry let it alone ; he never touched 
 a drop in his life, and yet he lost a leg and one 
 eye because other folks touched it. It seems 
 we are never safe from whiskey, as long as any 
 one uses it. A drunken carman lost Jerry a 
 leg, and a drunken shoemaker lost him an eye." 
 
 " Possible ! " cried the girl. " Do you see this 
 white ribbon I wear? It means I belong to the 
 Temperance Union, and now I shall change my 
 motto, and instead of saying, ' Let it alone and 
 it won't hurt you,' I will say, 'As long as there 
 is any of it made, it may hurt you.' " 
 
 They had been threading the mazes of the 
 store, and turning over a great pile of woolen 
 dress-goods during this chat. The pleasant girl 
 now fixed on a piece of goods of small blue-and- 
 black plaid.
 
 "A Token of my True Love" 247 
 
 " There ! This is nice, and very cheap, and 
 just enough for a girl of thirteen who does not 
 use many furbelows. I should take that, if I 
 were you. And this dark-brown serge is a rem- 
 nant, sold cheap. I am sure your mother would 
 like that. Come over to the calico counter. 
 Here is a very nice dark piece, with violets on 
 >t. That is going at about half-price." 
 
 Robert agreed to the young girl's taste, and 
 then followed her to the baskets where were 
 bargains in handkerchiefs, neckties, and other 
 small wares. He bought a pair of chamois-skin 
 gloves for Captain Allen, and a leather pocket- 
 book alas ! that it was doomed to be so empty 
 ties and handkerchiefs for Jerry and the boys, 
 and buttons and other material for making up 
 the dresses. He was overjoyed to find how far 
 the pretty little maid made his money go, and 
 had not been so happy since he was torn from 
 his home and the family therein. At last, eleven 
 dollars and a half, to the very last cent, were 
 spent. 
 
 " You write out the address for me," said the 
 girl, "and I will have the parcel sent, prepaid." 
 
 " Will you give me a card to write a line on, 
 to put in the bundle ? " said Robert. 
 
 And, taking out his stylographic pen, he wrote 
 on the card: "A token of my true love." As
 
 248 The Captain s Bargain. 
 
 he wrote, the observant shop-girl wondered how 
 it was that the hand from which Robert had 
 pulled the fine kid glove was evidently the hand 
 of a boy that had worked hard, and she also 
 wondered how it was that the relatives of a boy 
 with so fine a watch, so nice a suit, and so ele- 
 gant a stylographic pen, should be poor enough 
 to need and use the simple gifts that the lad had 
 just purchased. But girls who clerk in stores 
 see many curious things. 
 
 After the shopping was done, Robert bade his 
 fair helper good-bye, and walked off to Fair- 
 mount Park. He had not left himself a cent for 
 car-fare, nor to buy a biscuit for lunch. But in 
 thinking how pleased Eliza and the others would 
 be with their presents, he forgot to be tired or 
 hungry. He sat on one of the Park benches 
 and counted up the years before he should be 
 done with school, and be a man, and be earning 
 money for himself, which money he should 
 share with those who had shared their little all 
 with him. Would old Mr. Wick live until then, 
 rnd the mortgage on the mill escape foreclosure ? 
 He realized his father's hostility to the Aliens; 
 he wished he could make them friends, but he 
 felt that at present the less he said about them 
 ihe better. It was a long walk back to the 
 hotel. He happened to reach there just as his
 
 "A Token of my True Love" 249 
 
 father returned in the carriage. As they went 
 up to their room to make ready for dinner, Mr. 
 Murray said : 
 
 " You look tired, my son. Where have you 
 been?" 
 
 "To Fairmount Park." 
 
 " But you never walked home from there ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir. I had spent all my money," said 
 Robert, embarrassed. 
 
 " Did you get your dinner there?" asked his 
 father. " No ? Why not ? " 
 
 " I had spent all my money, sir. I am afraid 
 you will think me a spendthrift now. The other 
 day you thought I was going to be a miser," 
 and Robert laughed in a hesitant fashion. 
 
 " I gave you twelve dollars this morning," 
 said his father. " I hope, my dear boy, you have 
 not fallen in with sharpers. However, whatever 
 it is, I beg that you will not fear to speak out, 
 and say just what you have done with it" 
 
 " I went up to the store, sir, and I spent 
 eleven dollars and a half in buying presents, and 
 fifty cents for sending them. I got my mother 
 and Pink and the little one dresses ; and hand- 
 kerchiefs and ties and so on for the rest. I en- 
 joyed it very much. A very nice girl-clerk 
 helped, me to buy the things. I hope you are 
 not angry with me, but I could not keep money
 
 250 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 in my purse and not send a present to them, 
 when I have so very much and they have so 
 little, and they have always shared and shared 
 alike with me." Robert's big brown eyes were 
 fixed on his father, with that steadfast look 
 which Mr. Murray knew so well. 
 
 " Of course I am not angry," said Mr. Mur- 
 ray, coldly. " You can do as you please with 
 your own. And," he added bitterly, " I fancy 
 they will be ready to take whatever you give 
 them." 
 
 " No, sir," said Robert, quick to catch the 
 tone of imputation of greed ; " oh, no. They 
 are very independent. They will not send me 
 back my presents, because they will know that 
 would hurt my feelings, but they would not take 
 money from me, and they would not let me keep 
 on sending presents. They would feel that the 
 money was yours, not mine." 
 
 " Well, well, son, they have a vigorous de- 
 fender," said Mr. Murray, laying his arm over 
 Robert's shoulder. " Come to dinner. You 
 must be half dead with fatigue and hunger. 
 Hereafter, never spend your last cent. Remem- 
 ber that." 
 
 Mr. Murray could not feel irritated long that 
 evening. He was in a very happy mood. The 
 report of the doctor had been far better than his
 
 "A Token oj my True Love" 251 
 
 fears. He had no chronic disease. A long 
 nervous strain had worn and weakened him, but 
 now that he was satisfied and happy, with proper 
 care there was no reason why he should not live 
 for the next twenty years. He could see his 
 boy grow up to manhood ! He could hope to 
 see him prospering in business, happily married, 
 his family about him ! His heart glowed at the 
 thought of having years to live with this beloved 
 son. And then his mind was relieved about the 
 matter of the will. The future of Robert was 
 secured. He had arranged all for him with care. 
 He had seen two of his most trusty friends, men 
 of tried integrity, and he had obtained their con- 
 sent to be appointed Robert's guardians. Now, 
 if left an orphan, Robert would not go back to 
 Lai's Mountain to lavish his all upon the Aliens. 
 Until he was twenty-four years old, and there- 
 fore had had time to forget his early friends, the 
 boy's fortune was secure. This was a good day's 
 work. Mr. Murray rubbed his hands, ordered 
 turtle soup and roast venison for himself and 
 Robert, and talked cheerfully through the meal. 
 There was a lecture that evening on India, il- 
 lustrated with stereoscopic views ; he took Rob- 
 ert to hear and see it. 
 
 "There," he said, as they walked home, when 
 it was over, " when you have finished your school-
 
 252 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 days, you and I will travel, and see those far lands 
 for ourselves." 
 
 When they were back in their room, Mr. 
 Murray lay on the sofa, and told Robert his 
 plans. 
 
 " Robert, I will give you this first year in 
 school, to decide on what you wish to be. If 
 you choose to go to college, in two years you will 
 be well fitted. If you prefer the Polytechnic, 
 and the Mining Engineer's course, you can enter 
 upon it next year. 
 
 " I mean to buy a lot near the city and build 
 a house and furnish it. You shall furnish your 
 cwn room to suit yourself. I want you to have 
 some place to call home, and think of as home. 
 That house shall be headquarters. We will 
 bring there the treasures we collect. You can 
 invite your boy-friends there for vacations. 
 We shall have a garden, a small conservatory, 
 a stable, a carriage, and a pair of riding-horses. 
 And at school wherever you are at college, 
 at the Polytechnic, you will work very hard and 
 not distract your mind with other things. Tell 
 me, Robert, do you like these plans ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Robert, sincerely. 
 
 What boy would not like to hear of a plan 
 for a room furnished to his own taste of a rid- 
 ing-horse always at his service ?
 
 "A Token of my True Love" 253 
 
 " I don't want you to be without a business, 
 a regular occupation, an aim in life, Robert. I 
 have money enough to keep you without labor. 
 But I have seen enough of these Golden Youth 
 who do nothing but spend the money their fa- 
 thers have earned by toil and care. What right, 
 in this busy world, has a young man, full of 
 bodily vigor and mental power, to spend his 
 years yachting, dancing, giving dinners, playing 
 tennis and polo, day in and day out, and riding 
 forth at times to exhibit before the ladies his 
 fashionable clothes and his horsemanship ? I say 
 that such a life is contemptible and unmanly. 
 As the French say, we should all of us show the 
 raison d'etre ; that is, the reason for our exist- 
 ence. A man has no right to live merely to eat 
 up the proceeds of other men's labor. That is 
 the curse of the Old- World system of hereditary 
 aristocracy, and it bids likely to be the curse of 
 the New World with its plutocracy. Mind you, 
 my lad, I have worked and made my money. I 
 expect you to work and make money. And as 
 the money rolls up, we can use it well. I like 
 to see men found libraries or hospitals ; present 
 public-gardens or picture-galleries to their cities ; 
 help on all great philanthropic enterprises. It is 
 grand to have enough money of your own earn- 
 ing in your hand, to be able to respond liberally
 
 254 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 when you are appealed to to help on good work. 
 If there is a man I envy it is Peabody, who has 
 written his name in golden letters around the 
 civilized world. When I was a young man the 
 five letters in the name Dodge represented to 
 me a man who was never deaf when a cry for 
 help was lifted. When I myself was giving 
 way to sin, when I was suffering untold ago- 
 nies because the penalty of my sin had fallen 
 upon me, I honored the man who with other 
 men was battling the curse under the power 
 of which I had fallen. Be a man, my son, a 
 good man, a useful man, a great man, such a 
 man as I should have been, but was not." 
 
 Robert, whether he would or not, could not 
 fail to see the mingling of noble and foolish 
 ambitions in his father's wishes for him. It oc- 
 curred to him that justice should first be served, 
 and justice demanded a grateful recognition of 
 the kindness of Captain 'Zekiel and his family. 
 To stand shoulder to shoulder with such a fam- 
 ily and pull them through their adversities 
 seemed to Robert as good a work as could be 
 done, and if his father was inclined to love tem- 
 perance people for their work's sake, where was 
 there a stauncher little temperance woman than 
 Mistress Eliza? He felt inclined to put these 
 pertinent propositions to Mr. Murray, but ar>
 
 "A Token of my True Love." 255 
 
 stained, remembering that the same Eliza had 
 carefully taught him a lesson, now nearly out of 
 date, but none the less valuable, namely, that 
 young people are not particularly commissioned 
 to criticise their elders. The day of right feel- 
 ing between the Superintendent and the Cap- 
 tain might come all the quicker if Robert main- 
 tained a respectful silence. All this passed in 
 his mind while his father was talking, and he 
 said heartily : 
 
 " I think you are a very good man, father. 
 When a person has done wrong and is sorry for 
 it, and does wrong no more, we think other peo- 
 ple should not be throwing up the past to them. 
 God does not cast it up against them, for I re- 
 member once the schoolmaster gave us a lesson 
 on that, and his text was, ' His sins which he 
 hath committed shall no more be mentioned unto 
 him.' And so I think we should not be bring- 
 ing up the past in hard words against ourselves. 
 There is no need of our doing what God would 
 not and our fellow-men should not, is there ?" 
 
 Mr. Murray smiled, and patted Robert's hand. 
 " You are a great comfort to me, my son." Then 
 added, sadly, " But my sins cost us your mother." 
 
 " I believe," said Robert, " that as soon as my 
 mother got to heaven, an angel was sent to tell 
 her that all would turn out right for you and
 
 256 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 me, and so she at once forgot the sorrow she 
 had had, and has been perfectly happy ever since. 
 It must be so, you know, since no trouble can 
 get into heaven." 
 
 Mr. Murray at first took some presjent com- 
 fort from these suggestions. Then, as he be- 
 longed to the human variety, " self-tormentor," 
 he began to think that Robert was such a wise, 
 good boy, he must be going to die early. While 
 he made himself miserable over that, Robert 
 suddenly began to expound to him certain epi- 
 sodes of his life, wherein he had thrashed Jim 
 Long, and quarrelled with Tom Britt, and brought 
 down on himself the wrath of the schoolmaster 
 by painting a boy's face with walnut juice ; and 
 again by putting a quantity of popping-corn 
 under the open-work top of the school-room 
 stove, so that said corn suddenly taking to pop- 
 ping, flew in a white shower over all the school- 
 room. These recitals revived the spirits of Mr. 
 Murray, who realized that there was nothing 
 alarmingly angelic in his progeny. He felt 
 vexed also, as in these stories of the past rang 
 the longing for the " home " at the mill, and the 
 dear ones there. It is one of our human traits 
 to dislike those whom we have treated un- 
 justly. Mr. Murray had been grossly unjust to 
 the Aliens, and he disliked them accordingly.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 MASTERS AND GOVERNORS. 
 
 . MURRAY felt as if the doors of Paradise 
 closed against him, when he left Robert at 
 boarding-school, and turned away to go alone to 
 his hotel. Still, he believed he was acting for 
 Robert's good, and he counted the hours from 
 the Monday morning until he should allow him- 
 self to go on Saturday afternoon to see his son. 
 Already he began to consider what he should 
 take to him. The master had explained that 
 novels and candy were tabooed, as well as extra 
 pocket-money. Mr. Murray concluded that he 
 would treat Robert and the school to grapes and 
 peaches. 
 
 Meanwhile Robert was introduced to the 
 school-room, and vigorously stared at. The boys 
 estimated the fineness of his clothes and the 
 appearance of his watch. Those who made 
 dress and money a ground of friendship, con- 
 cluded to be on intimate terms with the new 
 boy. 
 
 The tutor began to inquire into Robert's 
 
 (257)
 
 258 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 accomplishments. Unluckily, he began with 
 French and Latin, and Robert knew not a word 
 of either. Down he went into the beginning- 
 class, where the boys were younger and- much 
 smaller than himself. As this class were also in 
 the rudiments of geography, arithmetic, history, 
 and grammar, Robert was very unequally placed, 
 for he had been well drilled in all these branches, 
 and in them, as in reading, spelling, and penman- 
 ship, scarcely a boy in the school was equal to 
 him. The schoolmaster in the little red school- 
 house had done his work well, and beside these 
 important branches of education had given Rob- 
 ert and his fellow-pupils a fund of useful general 
 information. Robert was disgusted and discour- 
 aged to find himself put back in the English 
 branches, to a place which he had passed two 
 years before. He felt that the tutor and the 
 pupils unjustly undervalued his acquirements, 
 but he did not understand that he should re- 
 monstrate against his unpleasant position. 
 
 " Put all your time on these grammars, until 
 you catch up with the class," said the tutor, 
 handing him his Latin first books. 
 
 The other boys in beginning had had ex- 
 planations in class, and, for years, had heard 
 other boys reciting in Latin. Robert had had 
 none of these aids, and the pages looked to him
 
 Masters and Governors. 259 
 
 a senseless and hopeless maze. Oh, what a hate- 
 ful school this was ! Oh, to be back at the red 
 school-house on the Mountain ! Recess came, 
 and the boys took him in hand. Their exam- 
 ination was as ruthless and unsatisfactory as that 
 of the tutor. 
 
 " Can you play cricket ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Base-ball?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Can you fence ?". 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Have you been drilled in gymnastics ? Can 
 you do this and that and the other, that these 
 boys are doing on the bars and rings and ropes ? " 
 
 " No." Robert had not been initiated into 
 any of these things. 
 
 " Gracious goodness, man ! " cried the young 
 leader of the school. " Where have you lived ? 
 Have you been brought up in the back-woods ?" 
 
 " Yes, I have," said Robert, promptly. 
 
 "Didn't you go to school ?" exclaimed sev- 
 eral. 
 
 "Yes. Certainly." 
 
 " Then why are you not on better ? Did you 
 not begin Latin ? " 
 
 " No. They, taught no Latin in my school." 
 
 " I wish I'd been there," groaned one boy.
 
 260 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " You're in for it here," said another. " It is 
 nothing but cram, cram, cram at Latin from 
 week's end to week's end." 
 
 Poor Robert ! He could have crammed any- 
 thing else with a better heart. He had no 
 natural talent for languages, and his present 
 tutor was not one calculated to inspire enthusi- 
 asm for a study. His classmates being younger 
 than himself, and not particularly gifted, Rob- 
 ert found it easy to overtake them in the few 
 lessons by which they were in advance of him. 
 That done, the regular lessons in Latin and 
 French occupied but a little time each day, and 
 the lessons in arithmetic, grammar, history, and 
 geography he did not need to study at all, as his 
 drill on them had been thorough in the red 
 school-house. Thus left to idle time, Robert 
 would fall to dreaming. Oh, beautiful red schoo'- 
 house on the mountain-side. How good it had 
 been to be there, exchanging dagger-glances of 
 wrath and challenge with his enemy, Jim Long ; 
 striving, in generous emulation, with Tom Britt 
 for the headship of the classes ; getting peeps 
 at marvellous worlds through the master's mi- 
 croscope ; dear Pink on the seat by his side, 
 sharing his blue desk all the years of their school- 
 life, Pink's yellow head bowed over the same 
 Reader with his head ; Pink's wide, dismayed
 
 Masters and Governors. 261 
 
 blue eyes turned to him in appeal for help over 
 difficult problems, for arithmetic was Pink's 
 terror and Robert's forte. How delightful had 
 been school-life up there on the Mountain ! In 
 summer, looking through open door or window, 
 you could see red or gray squirrels whirling 
 around the tree-trunks ; or great, splendid wood- 
 peckers drumming for food ; in the autumn, the 
 trees in red and gold, made garlands all around 
 the play-ground, and you could hear chestnuts 
 and hickorynuts rattle down among the wither- 
 ed leaves ; in winter, how whitely lay the snows 
 about the door, and what fantastic shapes the 
 trees and bushes took under their soft mantles ; 
 and then, in spring, the robins and bluebirds 
 came to the very threshold, or window-seat, and 
 built nests in plain sight ! Robert's longing soul 
 would be lost in such dreams as these, the 
 splendid appointments of his present " First- 
 class Establishment for Young Gentlemen " 
 quite forgotten, until the sharp rap, rap, rap of 
 the tutor's ruler on the desk, and the warning 
 voice, " Robert Murray ! You are not attend- 
 ing to your lessons ! " would bring him to him- 
 self. But what lessons had he to attend to ? 
 
 Robert had no especial talent for drawing ; 
 he was no artist in embryo, but he could scrawl 
 or sketch something that was at least recogniza-
 
 262 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 ble. His hand, following the meanderings of 
 his heart, drew inside the covers, on the fly- 
 leaves, all along the margins of his books, mills 
 and water-wheels ; rows of beehives. One-leg- 
 ged Jerrys climbed up along the right-hand 
 margin of his history and travelled down the left- 
 hand margin, and marched across the lower 
 margins, as if one-legged Jerrys were the sole 
 heroes of the historic tales. Over the pages 
 of his copy-book, in and out among maps and 
 Caucasians and Ethiopians and Malays, rolled 
 dripping mill-wheels, and rose trembling little 
 bridges and rude picnic camps. The barge Fair- 
 Weather sailed right across the unimpeachable 
 pages of the spelling-book, and Bop's rudely- 
 cropped head and square, honest countenance, 
 looked forth among examples for parsing and 
 graced the interstices of the multiplication-table. 
 Eliza, Pink, and Captain 'Zekiel did not appear 
 in these tracings, they were too sacred to de- 
 lineate, but none the less did Robert hug their 
 dear images in his heart. 
 
 Mr. Murray, intensely proud of his son, had 
 boasted of him much to the Principal of the 
 " First-class Establishment." Too much, the 
 Principal thought. He believed it only right to 
 lower this paternal pride a little. 
 
 " The boy is very backward ; he is in class
 
 Masters and Governors. 263 
 
 with boys two years younger," he said to Mr. 
 Murray. 
 
 " That is owing to his unfortunate lack of ad- 
 vantages ; he will soon press on and take his 
 proper place." 
 
 " Indeed, I fear not. He is not even dili- 
 gent ; he sits and dreams and idles away his 
 time. He is the least attentive boy in school. 
 He seems never to be paying attention to his 
 books." 
 
 Mr. Murray, much dismayed, implored Rob- 
 ert to take an interest, to be diligent, to get on 
 quickly. 
 
 " I don't know what to do," said Robert. " I 
 know all my lessons. I never make a mistake." 
 
 " I daresay not. Well, Robert, apply your- 
 self apply yourself. You must make up for 
 two or three years that you are behind the rest." 
 
 Robert, however, was in the very agonies of 
 home-sickness. His lonely heartache grew upon 
 him ; he could not distract his mind from his 
 lost home and friends ; his heart hovered over 
 their memory, as a bird hovers over her nest- 
 lings. Neither study nor sport attracted him. 
 
 " I hope my son is giving you more satisfac- 
 tion," said Mr. Murray, anxiously, to the Prin- 
 cipal. 
 
 For answer, the disgusted Principal spread
 
 264 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 before him Robert's books " with original illus- 
 trations," none of them belonging to the text. 
 
 " That is the way he spends his time in school ! 
 I never saw such a sight in my life as those 
 books ! How can a boy learn from books scrawled 
 up in that fashion ! " 
 
 Mr. Murray was about as much dismayed at 
 the sight of these " free-hand drawings " as was 
 the Principal. With these before his eyes con- 
 tinually, Robert would be little likely to forget 
 Lai's Mountain and the Allen mill. 
 
 " Get him a new set of books, burn these up, 
 and let him keep the others clean," decided Mr. 
 Murray. 
 
 Therefore, Robert found on his desk a com- 
 plete new set of books, and a card with the 
 legend : " Robert Murray, having ruined one set 
 of books in a few weeks, is provided with an- 
 other set, and requested not to scrawl on the 
 margins." 
 
 Letters came to Robert from the mill. Now 
 and then Captain Allen would labor at a note to 
 "his dear son," a note only moderately well 
 spelled, and very poorly written. Bop wrote a 
 sheet of chronicles of nutting expeditions, and 
 snow-fort building and defending, and besieging. 
 Bop's letter was open to criticism. Bop was not 
 strong in English grammar. But Eliza and Pink
 
 Masters and Governors. 265 
 
 wrote most of the letters, and filled them with 
 the simple chronicles of the home, and the neigh- 
 borhood, and the burden of their longing for 
 their " dearest Robert." These letters Robert 
 seized with eagerness, and read again and again. 
 
 " I wonder what Pink put that ' lee ' in red 
 ink, over the top of her letter for," he said, ab- 
 sently, one day, as, sitting on his desk, during 
 ' nooning," he read a letter. " I wonder where 
 Pink got the red ink." 
 
 North, the boy whom he liked best, was 
 reading a letter near him. 
 
 "What are you talking about, Murray? That 
 'lee'? Pink, as you call her, didn't do that. 
 Don't you know anything, boy ? The Prex put 
 that there to show that he had read it." 
 
 " Read my letter ! What right had he to read 
 my letter?" 
 
 "The right of might, and, moreover, the right 
 of law. It is a rule of the establishment ; the 
 Prex sees all the letters. Haven't you noticed 
 they are all unsealed ? " 
 
 " So they are. I was so glad to get mine, I 
 never noticed it. -I think that is a mean rule. 
 I don't like my letters read." 
 
 " It's not pleasant," said North ; " but after 
 all, there is some reason in it. I have known of 
 a fearful lot of trash being sent into school-
 
 266 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 mails, where they were not looked after. I sup- 
 pose the Prex only glances at them, though." 
 
 " Lee what does lee mean ?" said Robert. 
 
 41 Why, man, it's a supine. You are dull ! 
 Lego, legera, legi, lectum lectum, read. There, 
 now, that's Latin." 
 
 " Lectum ? I thought it meant a bed ; it 
 does in my book." 
 
 " It can mean more than one thing, can't it ? 
 Don't we say in English : I may read, and I 
 have read (red) a book." 
 
 " But they are parts of the same verb, you 
 know." 
 
 " Well, we say a pair of shoes, and we eat a 
 pear." 
 
 " But they are spelled differently." 
 
 " But, boy, we say you peer into a well, and 
 that one man is another man's peer. Such are 
 some of the beauties of the English language. 
 The Latin has similar beauties, as you will 
 slowly discover." 
 
 " Anyway, I am sorry that Pink's letters are 
 read. Still, if it is a rule, I can't help it." 
 
 " Since we came here under rules, we might 
 as well abide by them with a good grace ; it is 
 only honorable to do so," said North. " But 
 the rules are easily evaded. I often think laws 
 seem only made to be broken. Half of the boys
 
 Masters and Governors. 267 
 
 get letters, privately, through that stationer's 
 little shop around the corner. They are sent to 
 the man there, for the boys. There is no rule 
 to hinder a fellow buying pens or paper, and his 
 letters are slipped into his pocket meanwhile." 
 
 " But I think that looks very mean of the 
 stationer. He should let the Prex run his school 
 in his own way. He should not help the boys 
 to break rules." 
 
 " Bah ! he don't care. The boys pay him for 
 it. If it was only the letters, now ! But he 
 sells candy by the pounds, secretly to them, and 
 wine and beer. He keeps bottles of those things 
 under his counter. The fellows run in to buy a 
 paper, or a pencil, and swallow a drink. One 
 fellow carried off three bottles, hidden about 
 him, and drank them at night, and got drunk ; 
 and we did have work to keep him in bed in the 
 morning, and not let the Tute know what was up." 
 
 41 1 think that is beastly," said Robert, full of 
 disgust. 
 
 "So do I. But there is scarcely a big school 
 where there is not near it some place to sell 
 drinks. The law is that no saloons or liquor- 
 selling places are to be near school-houses. I 
 read that once in Boston, two saloons were 
 nearer the school- house than the law allowed. 
 But instead of ordering the liquor-places away,
 
 268 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 they got the school-houses condemned and 
 moved the schools." 
 
 " We never had such doings where I came 
 from," said Robert. " I should think this whis- 
 key-selling to the school-children would be found 
 out," 
 
 " It is not, or not for a long time. The boys 
 make a point of honor of not telling. While 
 they are acting as they think so honorably, to a 
 rascal who is breaking the law, they are letting 
 their schoolmates, and brothers, and so on, be 
 ruined with whiskey. These places sell brandy 
 in candy jugs and bottles made of sugar ; they 
 keep ale and beer under the counter, and rum 
 and gin and wine in lemonade bottles, or label- 
 led 'lime juice,' or ' fruit syrup.' Or, they have 
 a little den behind the shop, where the boys can 
 slide in and get a ' half-and-half,' or ' Tom and 
 Jerry,' or some such. There are dozens of city 
 school-houses fixed out just that way, with liquor 
 sold at a newspaper-stand, or a lunch-stand, that 
 looks as if it had only cake and biscuits ; or at a 
 stationer's shop. Land ! I've known boys to 
 really steal dimes from their mother's purse, or 
 their father's cash-drawer, to buy julep, or egg- 
 nog, or sling with lemon in it." 
 
 " I never before heard of such things," cried 
 Robert.
 
 Masters and Governors. 269 
 
 " Oh, well, you're from the country," said 
 North in a superior manner. " Now, some of 
 the fellows here are going to have a supper after 
 hours to-night. You see, they smuggle in the 
 things, and, when all the house is asleep, we get 
 up and spread the supper on one of the beds, 
 and sit around in our night-shirts, and feast like 
 Sardanapalus. Perhaps you don't know him, 
 though ? " 
 
 " Yes, I do know Sardanapalus, knew him 
 long ago. I've been through Ancient and Mod- 
 ern three times." 
 
 " Well, that's the way we do it. To-night 
 the spread is to be turkey stuffed with truffles, 
 pickles, Vienna-rolls, mince-pie, fruit-cake, and 
 some other things. It is in our dormitory, not in 
 yours. I don't mind taking a hand in it myself. 
 It's great fun ; only I'm out of this, because the 
 fellows have got champagne. I draw a line at 
 champagne. I've no objection to sitting on the 
 head-board or foot-board of the bed in my night- 
 shirt and eating Strasburg patties, or pickled 
 olives, or calves'-foot jelly, or any of the rest, 
 but I don't believe in the champagne. I prom- 
 ised my mother I wouldn't touch any kind of 
 wine, and I'm a man of my word." 
 
 " Well, I've signed a temperance pledge," said 
 Robert.
 
 270 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 "Signed a pledge, have you?" said Cocker, 
 one of the boys, coming in just then. "What 
 did you do that for?" 
 
 " Because my father wanted me to, and be- 
 cause I thought I ought to, and because I 
 meant to do it, and so why not say it, and be- 
 cause I believe in temperance." 
 
 "Tuts ! tuts ! Ain't you rich, Murray ?" 
 
 "No, I am not. I haven't any money at all." 
 
 " Then how do you come to be dressed to 
 kill, and have a watch, and a writing-desk, and 
 a dressing-case, and all such paraphernalia?" 
 
 " Because my father is rich and buys things 
 for me." 
 
 " Well, man, isn't that all the same ? " 
 
 " No, it is not. A person is rich if he has 
 money that he has earned, or if he has money 
 that has been given to him out and out not 
 because some of his friends are rich," replied 
 Robert. 
 
 " What's the use of cutting and drying that 
 way, boy ? You'll grow up into a rich young 
 man, and will enjoy yourself, and go to and give 
 dinners, balls, suppers. How will you get on 
 tied up by an old-fogy pledge ? Who can have 
 a dinner without wine and toasts and speeches, 
 I say?" 
 
 "Then 1 won't have the dinners. It is not
 
 Masters and Governors. 271 
 
 necessary to have them, but I must keep my 
 pledge." 
 
 " Don't you suppose temperance people have 
 any dinners, or suppers, or any good time, 
 Cocker?" asked North. 
 
 "No. They are a weakly, dull, sickly, short- 
 lived lot." 
 
 "Oh! oh! oh! Where are your proofs?" 
 cried North. 
 
 " Once I knew a man ninety years old," said 
 Cocker, " and he told me that he had had a glass 
 of rum every day all his life, so that proves it is 
 healthy." 
 
 "And I knew a man," said Robert, " a man 
 eighty years old, and he had lost both of his 
 legs in a railroad accident when he was fifty, 
 and that proves that it is healthy to lose your 
 legs in a railroad accident, and if you want to 
 live to be eighty, you should have your legs cut 
 off." 
 
 All the boys who had gathered about laughed. 
 
 " See here," said North, " I never saw a mer- 
 rier, jollier lot of men together than a lot of 
 ministers, and you'll hardly find a minister that 
 drinks. My father is president of an insurance 
 company, and they won't take drinking-men 
 risks. And the rates for habitual abstainers are 
 less than for occasional drinkers. And the as-
 
 272 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 surance societies, you know, have got it all 
 down to a fine point." 
 
 "And I know this," said Robert, " the life as- 
 surance society called the Sceptic, in London, 
 found that in twenty-four years the average of 
 deaths among teetotalers was only five in a thou- 
 sand yearly, and that is less than half the average 
 of those who are not total abstainers. So, Cocker, 
 you are all out about the temperance people be- 
 ing short-lived and sickly. Try your wits on 
 another charge." 
 
 Sometimes Robert would forget his home- 
 sickness and talk in this way, or frolic heartily 
 with the other lads, but too often he withdrew 
 to a window-seat or a corner and sat alone, long- 
 ing for Lai's Mountain. Nostalgia had seized 
 on him. The daily walks of the boys, two and 
 two, in line, a tutor at each end of the proces- 
 rion, were a misery to Robert, whose exercise had 
 been so free of all restraint as he ranged the dear 
 mountain and romped about the mill. 
 
 One day in the school session the lads in a class 
 r hove Robert had a particularly hard problem in 
 Measurement. Three failed on it at the board. 
 
 " Is there any boy in the school who can do 
 this problem?" asked the teacher, intending to 
 j:;ive the algebraists a chance to revive their 
 arithmetical practice.
 
 Masters and Governors. 273 
 
 All the boys looked up, Robert among the 
 rest. 
 
 " I can do it," said Robert. 
 
 " You ! Why, it is way at the end of the 
 book." 
 
 " Yes. But I have done it." 
 
 " Come up, and try it," said the teacher. 
 
 Robert went up to the board, wrought the 
 example out, and the Principal came in just as 
 he was explaining the problem and its working 
 in admirable style. 
 
 "What, Murray, way along there so soon?" 
 he said. 
 
 " I was along there a year ago," said Robert. 
 " I went all through that arithmetic and re- 
 viewed. I worked out every example in it by 
 myself." 
 
 "Then you should be in Algebra. You are 
 very wrongly placed in that class in Interest. 
 What other books have you been through ? " 
 
 " I have been through all I am studying in 
 now, only the Latin and French. I was in a 
 more advanced Grammar than the one we use 
 here. And I have been through the High- 
 school Geography." 
 
 " Why did you not say SQ, and not be put 
 back in that way?" demanded the Principal. 
 
 "No one asked me. I was told to go
 
 274 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 in those classes because I did not know any 
 Latin." 
 
 " We have graded on the Latin generally, but 
 you are an exception. I will revise your classes 
 to-day, Murray."
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 MR. MURRAY'S CARD-HOUSES TUMBLE DOWN. 
 
 GREAT was Mr. Murray's joy when he found 
 that Robert belonged in a higher class, and was 
 not so backward in his studies as his teacher had 
 supposed. 
 
 " I knew he had made a mistake," he said. 
 " I knew my boy better than he did. People 
 should not take so much for granted." 
 
 But Mr. Murray himself had been at the root 
 of the teacher's error, for he had assured him 
 that " Robert had been at a very poor school, 
 where they taught absolutely nothing, and that 
 he was far behind other boys of his age in all 
 that he ought to know." 
 
 " Now, Robert," said the pleased father, 
 " show them what you can do. Let them see 
 how they have underestimated you. I wish you 
 would try and take one of the prizes. How 
 proud I should be of you if you would take all 
 three ! Yo%know, there is the prize for good 
 conduct, one for greatest improvement, one for 
 highest class standing. Each is a gold medal, 
 
 (275) i
 
 276 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 or its worth, twenty dollars. Of course you 
 would not take the money instead of the medal, 
 but I will tell you what I will do. I will give 
 you twenty dollars for each medal that you win." 
 An idea here entered Robert's mind. If he 
 could get sixty dollars, and save his ten dollars 
 a month, why could he not make a payment of 
 one hundred and eighty dollars on that terrible 
 mortgage that hung over the mill ? If Mr. Wick 
 \yould live long enough, or his heir should prove 
 merciful, why, in five or six years, might not 
 Robert free the dear home of its incumbrance ? 
 . V very fury of money-earning and saving seem- 
 d to possess the boy at this thought. The 
 >.iortgage was ever before his eyes, like some 
 .uge, hideous debt of his own. The rich man's 
 : on was burdened by poverty and cares of money 
 .is sorely as any poor man's son. The letters 
 from the mill contained little hints unconscious- 
 ly dropped, and spaces where Robert read dire 
 poverty between the lines. " Father was so 
 worried. Pink wished she were grown up, and 
 knew enough to teach a school. She could 
 then give poor father all her salary." It "was so 
 good of Robert to send them those dresses. If 
 he had not they could have hau none. Now 
 they looked as well at church as other folks." 
 " Poor mother seemed low-spirited. Pink had
 
 Mr. Murray's Card-Houses Fall. 277 
 
 found her crying." " Mr. Wick had had another, 
 attack of paralysis a slight one but the doc- 
 tor said the third would carry him off." 
 
 " People said Mr. Wick's nephew was in great 
 want of ready money, and was all the time look- 
 ing up purchasers to take all his uncle's property 
 as soon as the old man should die." 
 
 Reading such news, Robert felt as if he could 
 not wait for the slow process of his own accu- 
 mulations. He ventured to ask his father for help. 
 
 " Father, would you give me a whole thou- 
 sand dollars?" 
 
 " That depends upon how you would use it, 
 son." 
 
 "I'd buy the mortgage on our mill, and give 
 it up to mother and father Allen." 
 
 "Then I certainly should not give you money 
 to use so." 
 
 " But, father, they were so good to me and 
 you used to like them so much." 
 
 " That was before I knew how abominably 
 they were treating me. Think, Robert ; for 
 years I begged Captain Allen to give you up to 
 me. I told him all my miserable story. I of- 
 fered him money ; all in vain. He refused to 
 give me my own child." 
 
 " But, father, he did not know that I was 
 your own child."
 
 278 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " He kept you after he knew. He came very 
 near keeping you altogether, and letting me go 
 off to die alone of a heart-break. He would 
 have been my murderer. I remember against 
 him my month of heartache, I can tell you. I 
 will do nothing for him, I promise you." 
 
 This was on a Sunday afternoon. It was the 
 Sunday of the month which Robert spent with 
 his father. They had been at church in the 
 morning, and the Scripture read had been, " I 
 forgave thee all that debt because thou desirest 
 me. Shouldst thou not have had compassion 
 on thy fellow-servant, even as I had pity on 
 thee ? " To Robert it seemed that the words 
 fitted this case exactly. Oh ! why did not his 
 father so apply them ? He dared not make the 
 application himself, but he said, " It was be- 
 cause he was so fond of me, father." 
 
 " Yes, so fond that he was willing to keep 
 you in patches, sleeping in a carpetless room, 
 working along with that one-legged fellow, in- 
 stead of putting you in your right place where 
 you could have whatever you liked. A queer 
 kind of love, that ! And, Robert, I am amazed 
 at you that you do not resent Captain Allen's 
 keeping you parted so long from your own fa- 
 ther. It is your duty to feel angry that he 
 caused me so much needless sorrow. I wish
 
 Mr. Murray's Card- Houses Fall. 279 
 
 you would never speak of those Aliens to me 
 again." 
 
 Poor Robert ! if he could have talked of 
 them, could have seen them now and then ; 
 could have known that their goodness was ap- 
 preciated and their burdens were lifted, he could 
 have borne his separation from them better. 
 
 That had been a very happy life at the mill. 
 In spite of poverty it had been a life of love 
 and joy, a true home-lfe free, genial, innocent. 
 Robert longed for it, as the exile Switzer longs 
 for his mountains, his herds, the chalet perilously 
 hung on the cliff's side. He had now no hope 
 of seeing his dear family until he should be 
 grown up. Oh, weary years ! He had no hope 
 of relieving their straits but by the slow process 
 of his own savings. He took up the burden, 
 but it looked a long and hopeless way which it 
 must be carried. And if he tried to pay the 
 mortgage he could not educate Pink. He began 
 morbidly to measure everything by the money 
 which it cost, and that money by the good it 
 might do to the Aliens. On Saturdays his 
 father took him to see what progress was made 
 in the house that was being built for them in 
 West Philadelphia. As Robert saw its large 
 proportions and expensive work he counted up 
 how many times it might have paid the mill
 
 280 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 mortgage and built a good house for his dear, 
 faithful mother Eliza, and he took but little sat- 
 isfaction in the new structure. 
 
 As his father had assured him that progress 
 at school was the high-road to speedy entrance 
 into business and money-making on his own 
 account, as the three prizes represented at least 
 sixty of the dollars which he wanted, Robert 
 entered into a very fury of application to his 
 studies. He studied early and late. The boys call- 
 ed him a " prig," a " muff," and all manner of 
 names because he refused to take a share in their 
 sports. Even the tutor said, " Don't overdo this, 
 Murray ; you go from one extreme to the other." 
 
 Then, as Robert felt that he must save every 
 penny, to aid in averting ruin from those who 
 had saved him from misery, he spent nothing on 
 little treats and gifts as the other boys did ; he 
 refused to join in testimonials ; he put nothing 
 into the outstretched palms of beggars; he took no 
 share in surreptitious suppers called "spreads." 
 The fellows called him a " cad," a " curmudg- 
 eon," a " miser." Robert knew that he was at 
 an immense disadvantage ; generous in the ex- 
 treme, he was especially mortified and grieved 
 at being considered selfish. All the consolation 
 he had was in adding each month a clean, new 
 ten-dollar bill to his hoard.
 
 Mr. Murray's Card-Houses Fall. 281 
 
 Desperate to help those so dear to him, the 
 hoy wrote to Deacon Britt, asking if he would 
 not buy the mill mortgage, and take on it, from 
 JUubert, ten dollars a month, and whatever else 
 he could pay. He asked the Deacon to keep his 
 letters secret. The Deacon replied that he had 
 not money in hand for this matter, but that he 
 would look out, and try and avert the fore- 
 closure of the mortgage. That little correspond- 
 ence with the old Deacon was Robert's one ven- 
 ture through the secret post-office at the naughty 
 stationer's. 
 
 At Christmas-time Mr. Murray took Robert to 
 Atlantic City for a fortnight, to see the ocean, the 
 great hotels, the fine cottages, and all the adjuncts 
 of the huge, bustling summer-resort. Still the Al- 
 len preoccupation was over Robert's mind. If 
 turned out from the mill, could father 'Zekiel 
 come here, and be a fisherman, or sail pleasure- 
 boats for summer parties? Could mother Eliza 
 come here and keep a boarding-house? He 
 laid all manner of plans, built castles in the air, 
 and down they fell at the breath of common- 
 sense. Father Allen knew nothing of fishing, 
 or of the sea ; mother 'Liza had no money to 
 buy furniture for a cottage. 
 
 While Robert strolled on the beach and hope- 
 lessly revolved such plans as this, Mr. Murray
 
 282 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 walking by him, too happy to notice the lad's 
 unnatural silence and gloom, built castles also. 
 In truth, Mr. Murray knew little about boys, and 
 Robert's staid, quiet demeanor, the result of 
 grief and care, only made him a more orderly 
 listener, and better companion for his father. 
 Thus Mr. Murray suspected nothing wrong. 
 He planned and planned for Robert's almost 
 heedless ears. 
 
 "In the summer, Robert, we will make a trip 
 North. We will go down the St. Lawrence ; 
 we will see first Niagara, then the Thousand 
 Islands, then Montreal and Quebec. That will 
 be a trip ! How would you like that, my boy ?" 
 
 " Very well, father, thank you," said Robert, 
 indifferently. 
 
 " Perhaps you have heard of some other place 
 that you would prefer. Very likely the boys 
 at school have told you of some of their vaca- 
 tion trips." 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " If there is any place you would prefer, speak 
 up, my son." 
 
 " Oh, father ! What I should prefer would 
 be to go to Lai's Mountain for vacation. We 
 could go to your nice little home there. Pink, 
 and Bop, and the twins could come and see us 
 every day. I could run in and out of the mill,
 
 Mr. Murray's Card-Houses Fall. 283 
 
 when I liked. We could have a camp, father, 
 as the tourists and artists did. Oh, I should 
 like that." 
 
 Robert held up his head ; his brown eyes ' 
 flamed, a glow lit his cheeks, he held his breath, 
 waiting for his father's answer. 
 
 Mr. Murray was simply provoked. 
 
 " I certainly shall not go back to Lai's Moun- 
 tain ! We have both . had too much of that 
 place, and of those people. It is time you were 
 weaned from them, Robert. You are absolutely 
 foolish about them. I'm ashamed of you ! It 
 is proper for you to see more of the world. If 
 you are so fond of the woods, boy," he added, 
 relenting at Robert's miserable face, "we will 
 go up and have all the camp you like in the 
 Adirondacks, where you can catch salmon-trout 
 and shoot venison." 
 
 Robert said no more. He hung his head, and 
 kicked little shells out of the shingle. Life of- 
 fered him nothing worth living for, except to 
 lift the mortgage and build his mother a white 
 house. But that was an undertaking for a six- 
 teen-year-old boy ! Presently, seeing some quite 
 pretty shells, he thought Pink would like them. 
 Pink had almost never seen shells. So he 
 stuffed his pockets with the best, and as his desk 
 was always kept supplied with postage-stamps,
 
 284 The Captains Bar gam. 
 
 he packed a box of shells, while his father was 
 napping after dinner, and sent them off to Pink. 
 Not that he wished to be secret, or do anything 
 underhand ; if it had come into question, he 
 would have freely stated what had become of 
 stamps and shells, but he saw that his father was 
 only vexed at being reminded of the Aliens, and 
 that iteration of their claims only increased his 
 hostility. Robert wished he could paint pictures, 
 or write stories, or sing in a choir, or do some- 
 thing to earn money. But he was fully con- 
 scious of being no genius only life's most ordi- 
 nary paths were open to him. By no lofty 
 tumblings could he reach his goal. He must 
 just plod. He was glad when the vacation was 
 over, and he could go back and plod again. 
 
 All this was very unnatural for a lad of Rob- 
 ert's age and constitution. He had been full of 
 fun, frolic, given to vigorous out-of-door ex- 
 ercise. His childish " Let's play " had been a 
 part of his buoyant constitution. Now his life 
 was all work and worry and no play, and it be- 
 <ran to tell heavily upon him. 
 
 " I think, Mr. Murray," said the proprietor of 
 the hotel where Mr. Murray lived, and where 
 Robert spent one Sunday a month, " that 
 school-life does not suit that boy of yours. He 
 is getting very thin."
 
 Mr. Murray's Card-Houses Fall. 285 
 
 " He is growing fast," said Mr. Murray. 
 
 " And he is pale and has a worried look, and 
 great dark circles under his eyes. I wonder you 
 don't see it. He is a very different boy from 
 what he was when you brought him here last 
 fall. School-life doesn't suit him." 
 
 Mr. Murray, the next Saturday, took Robert 
 to see a physician. The doctor said the boy 
 was outgrowing his strength, and the change 
 from country to school and city life had pulled 
 him down. He ordered cod-liver oil and port 
 wine. 
 
 " Port trash, you mean," cried Mr. Murray, 
 " port old leather and logwood and wormy 
 prunes, and drugs ad libitum. There is not a 
 quart of true Port in the country, not a quart 
 leaves Oporto, doctor, yet we Americans say we 
 import it, and we drink it yearly by the hogs- 
 head ! Why do you order what isn't to be had, 
 and if it were to be had I wouldn't touch it, and 
 Robert should not." 
 
 The doctor smiled at his irascible patient. He 
 had had Mr. Murray to deal with before. But 
 Mr. Murray was rich, and riches cover a multi- 
 tude of sins and hard words. As Mr. Murray 
 would none of the port wine, the doctor said : 
 
 " All right, give him an emulsion of cod-liver 
 oil, and as you won't use port, use iron and
 
 286 The Captain s Bargain. 
 
 quinine, that will tone him up. Give him the 
 iron through a glass tube, so as not to spoil those 
 handsome teeth." 
 
 Mr. Murray took Robert a long drive up the 
 Wissahickon, and bought him plentiful cod-liver 
 oil, iron, and quinine. 
 
 " Port," he growled, " port wine, indeed ! a 
 pretty notion, giving that poison to a boy to 
 strengthen him." 
 
 And also, Mr. Murray, though you did not 
 know it, a pretty notion, a very pretty notion, 
 to give a boy cod-liver oil and iron and quinine 
 to heal a heart-break, and cure him of home- 
 sickness, and chase dark care away that sits on 
 his shoulder, croaking, " They shared all with 
 you. They gave you a home ; you are rich, you 
 have more than all you need, and you are doing 
 nothing for them, and they are to be turned out. 
 of the home you shared, the only home you ever 
 knew, and which you loved so well." 
 
 No amount of cod-liver oil could exorcise this 
 demon of care no doses of iron and quinine 
 could change this burthen of misery, this 
 dirge of the fortunes of the mill, into a song 
 of joy. Robert's spirits sank lower and low- 
 er in spite of the doctor's nostrums. Mr. Mur- 
 ray began to be astonished at the failure 
 of potions. He did not know that while duly
 
 Mr. Murray's Card-Houses Fall. 287 
 
 taking his medicine, his son was losing sleep and 
 appetite. 
 
 The letters from Lai's Mountain came every 
 week. There were no complaints in them, but 
 much that might be construed into ill news or 
 forewarning of disaster. Mr. Wick was very 
 low. Mr. Wick's nephew had been there with 
 a man valuing property to look at the mill site. 
 A freshet had brought some logs heavily down 
 stream and broken a great piece from the wheel. 
 That dear old wheel ! Robert felt as if he had 
 lost a piece of his own flesh in hearing that some 
 of its sodden, mossy buckets had been carried 
 away. What hours had he stood hand-in-han j 
 with Pink gazing with childish wonder at that 
 wheel's ceaseless revolutions, and laughing with 
 glee at the rainbows flashing in its spray !. 
 
 " Father did not know whether it would be 
 worth while to mend the wheel. Whatever hap- 
 pened, mother said they should all keep to- 
 gether." 
 
 Then in February came worse news. Ther'e had 
 been a January break-up, and blocks of ice had 
 come down the creek, as on the occasion of that 
 famous voyage when Robert was captain of the 
 Fair- Weather and Pink was crew. And a block 
 of ice had cut a fearful hole in the old barge, 
 had indeed torn a great piece out of her stern,
 
 288 The Captairis Bargain. 
 
 and it was of no use to try and repair it. The 
 barge was too worn-out for repairs. Besides, 
 voyages did not pay now, and none of them felt 
 much heart for taking one since Robert was 
 gone. Even if they got to Philadelphia, they 
 might not be allowed to see Robert. 
 
 However, the barge Fair- Weather was to be 
 broken up and sold for fuel. 
 
 " The dear old barge, Robert, in which we 
 have had such good times. I think we all cried 
 to see it finally ruined." 
 
 After these mournful, loving, despairing let- 
 ters, Robert would be more profoundly sad, 
 and, while no longer neglecting his books to 
 dream, would sit listless in play-hours and fail 
 to eat his meals, and was a very forlorn-looking 
 lad indeed. 
 
 All these signs of trouble did the Principal 
 connect with the letters from Lai's Mountain. 
 To these letters he objected in toto. He did 
 not believe in much letter-writing for school- 
 boys. A weekly letter to mother, or sister, or 
 father, or guardian, was enough for any reason- 
 able boy. The Lai's Mountain letters were not 
 very praiseworthy or improving specimens of 
 English literature. The Principal resolved that 
 they should be forbidden. But the first of March 
 brought a letter longer and more pitiful than all
 
 Mr. Murray's Card-Houses Fall. 289 
 
 the rest. The Principal glanced at the six close- 
 ly-written pages signed, " Your loving Pink." 
 He did not read them ; they were not worth it ; 
 but Mr. Murray would call that day, and he 
 should order Robert to drop the Pink corre- 
 spondence. 
 
 Robert read the letter, a most dreadful let- 
 ter it seemed to him, full of the anguish of 
 Pink's heart. Old Mr. Wick was dead : 
 
 " Buried yesterday, and Jonas his nephew has 
 been here, and says he means to foreclose the 
 mortgage, and we must go in one month. At 
 that time the property will be sold to a man 
 from New York, who means to build a summer 
 hotel here on the mill site. He is going to tear 
 the dear old mill down, and we will not get any 
 money for it. They say the ground will only 
 bring the value of the mortgage. We shall not 
 have a penny, and we do not know where we 
 shall go. In a little while I shall not know 
 where to tell you to direct my letters. Oh, I'm 
 so glad, dear Robert, that you have a home, 
 and are not to be turned out as we are. If we had 
 any furniture, perhaps we could go to Lacy and 
 take boarders. Father says maybe we should get a 
 couple of rooms from the Britts and let him go 
 West to look for something. But, you know, 
 father has no money to go West, and he cannot
 
 290 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 get along without mother. Father takes after me ; 
 he cannot do sums. Since you have been away, 
 Robert, all my sums have been wrong. I am so 
 sorry, for if I could do sums, perhaps I could be a 
 school-teacher sometime, and earn as much as thir- 
 ty dollars a month to give to poor, dear mother." 
 This was the heart-rending epistle which Rob- 
 ert read and re-read, until it seemed as if all the 
 letters burned in red fire. While he read it the 
 Principal talked to Mr. Murray. 
 
 " It is true, Robert is not looking well. I 
 think he will never feel or look well as long as 
 he keeps up his correspondence with those Allen 
 people. He is perceptibly more listless and 
 moody after every letter. Really, Mr. Murray, 
 you should forbid the correspondence." 
 
 " It would make the poor boy so unhappy." 
 " Only for a little while. He would soon for- 
 get. Boys always do. Now his mind is dis- 
 tracted and his attention diverted by those let- 
 ters all the time. Next thing, he will fancy 
 himself in love with this Pink. I assure you, 
 you do him a great injury when you let him 
 keep this thing up. In school, nothing but 
 school-ideas should be tolerated." 
 
 "Well, perhaps so ; but I hate to grieve Robert." 
 
 " He'll be over it in a week. Take him to 
 
 Washington for his spring holidays. Show him
 
 Mr. Murray's Card- Houses Fall. 291 
 
 the Patent Office, the Congressional Library, 
 the Smithsonian, you can make it as improving 
 as a fortnight in school." 
 
 Mr. Murray suspected that this might not be 
 a very enlivening holiday. 
 
 " The longer this goes on, the worse and 
 harder it will be. You tell me you want to 
 break the boy away from this family, who are 
 not advantageous acquaintances. Then do it 
 promptly. I understand boys, and I advise you 
 for your son's benefit. Let him have an undi- 
 vided mind for his books." 
 
 "Very well. I'll speak to him about it this 
 afternoon." 
 
 "'I will send for him to come to you pres- 
 ently," said the Principal. " Meanwhile I wish 
 to tell you " 
 
 Here the Principal was called out to see a 
 telegram that had come for some one of his boys. 
 
 Mr. Murray sat dreading his interview with 
 Robert. How could he forbid the letters on 
 which Robert's heart was so set ? 
 
 Suddenly the door was flung open almost 
 against him as he sat. 
 
 " Mr. Mason ! Mr. Mason ! " cried the excited 
 voice of the tutor, "will you telephone for a 
 doctor for young Murray ? He is in an awful 
 way. Quick, sir ! I fear he is dying."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. . 
 
 BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH. 
 
 BY this time the young tutor, pale and at his 
 wits' end, had got fairly into the room and saw 
 not Mr. Mason, the Principal but the father 
 of "young Murray." 
 
 Mr. Murray rose up from his chair behind 
 the door. His teeth chattered, his body shook 
 as with ague, a cold sweat poured over his face. 
 He could not utter a word, but, with eyes wide 
 and full of agony, glared at the frightened tutor, 
 who had just said that Robert was dying. 
 
 " Are you there, sir ? Come, come to Rob- 
 ert ! Where is Mr. Mason ? We must have a 
 doctor. This way, sir. The fellows are carry- 
 ing Robert to the infirmary." 
 
 The tutor had lost all his presence of mind. 
 He dashed back into the hall and Mr. Murray 
 followed him. Ascending the stairs, he saw six 
 of the largest pupils carrying an inert form 
 the form of his son. He saw the boy's hands 
 dangling lifeless, and what a dead weight he 
 
 was on his comrades' young arms ! 
 (292)
 
 Between Life and Death. 293 
 
 "There's poor Murray's father," said North. 
 
 Already it was " poor Murray " ! 
 
 The tutor had rushed off to seek the Princi- 
 pal, and Mr. Murray, dazed with misery, climbed 
 the stairs after those who carried his son. The 
 boys went on and on, up to the infirmary in the 
 fourth story. 
 
 It was a large, light, sunny, well-aired, silent, 
 beautiful room, with great, soft, invalid chairs and 
 two white beds. On one of these beds the boys 
 laid Robert, and began, under North's direc- 
 tion, to get off his shoes, coat, and necktie. 
 Mr. Murray bent over him, too distracted to aid 
 in undressing him. 
 
 Robert's face was pallid ; his eyelids, half 
 closed, showed that the eyes were set and rolled 
 upward ; his beautiful, curly, dark hair was damp 
 with a cold sweat. Mr. Murray wondered to 
 see how thin and white and wan the lately ro- 
 bust boy had become. How wonderfully like 
 his poor, dead mother he looked as she had been 
 in her last illness and in her coffin ! He could 
 do nothing but clasp and stroke Robert's un- 
 conscious head and call him : 
 
 " Robert ! Robert ! My dear son ! Robert, 
 speak to me ! " 
 
 " Robert's governor takes it uncommon hard, 
 don't he ? " whispered one lad to another, in the
 
 294 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 corner of the infirmary. " Looks just as if he 
 was going to die, don't he, poor chap !" 
 
 Up came tutor and Principal and a doctor. 
 The doctor was a very young man, and Mr. 
 Murray eyed him with suspicion, as he drew near 
 the bed, in which the boys, aided by the matron, 
 had now placed Robert. 
 
 " Doctor Lee, Mr. Murray," said the Princi- 
 pal. " He is attending a cousin of his, here in 
 the next room, young Morgan, who has a slight 
 attack of lung fever. I found Doctor Lee at 
 the door, just coming to see Morgan, and I 
 brought him to Robert at once. We can 
 send for your own doctor presently, if you pre- 
 fer." 
 
 Mr. Murray stepped back a little, making way 
 for Doctor Lee, who began to examine his 
 patient. 
 
 " He seems very much prostrated. Nervous 
 system quite run down ; his pulse is very weak 
 and wiry. Brain fever. How was he taken ? 
 Did anything happen ?" 
 
 " We were reading our letters," said North. 
 " Murray read his three times. I noticed him, 
 he looked queer, and all at once began to cry 
 out, not words, but queer little shrieks, and roll 
 his eyes, and then, all in a minute, he fell over 
 against the desk. It was something about his
 
 Between Life and Death. 295 
 
 letter, I think. See, here is his letter in his hand 
 now all crumpled up." 
 
 " I told you so," said the Principal, taking 
 Pink's melancholy pages from Robert's unre- ' 
 sisting hand, and giving them to Mr. Murray. 
 
 " The boy has evidently got into a very low 
 state, and had a nervous shock of some kind. I 
 saw a case just like this, when I was a school- 
 boy, all came from intense home-sickness and 
 sudden news of a sister's death. It was that case 
 first turned my attention to the study of medi- 
 cine. Get me these things which I have written 
 down at once, please, Mr. Mason. Have you 
 an ice-bag? Ice? Clear the room, have those 
 curtains drawn. This side of the house must be 
 kept very quiet. Is this the young gentleman's 
 father ? Do not despair, sir. Your son is young, 
 and seems to have a very fine physique. We 
 shall pull him through, I hope." 
 
 Only hope when this distracted man wanted 
 certainty, assurance ! It had never once entered 
 into Mr. Murray's mind that his son might die. 
 He had lost him for years, and suffered horrible 
 misery. He had found him ; he expected to 
 keep him forever. He should not bury Rob- 
 ert, Robert, a man of middle age, should bury 
 him ; and here was this treasured boy, lying near 
 to death. The young doctor seemed to under-
 
 296 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 stand the case, and to be very earnest and sym- 
 pathetic ; he toiled over his patient ; had a hos- 
 pital nurse sent for ; praised Robert's beauty ; 
 encouraged poor Mr. Murray. 
 
 Mr, Murray could not be persuaded to leave 
 Robert's bed for a second. He drank a cup of 
 tea that was brought him, and sat by the bed to 
 share the watch of the nurse. Robert moaned, 
 tossed, muttered. During the night, Mr. Mur- 
 ray thought of the letter which had been given 
 to him. He would see what it was that had so 
 disastrously affected Robert. He went into the 
 hall, and read it by the gas. The simple letter 
 filled him with strange pity and contrition ; no 
 xvonder that Robert had felt nearly frantic over 
 ; his, when he loved them so ! Early in the 
 morning Mr. Murray went to the bed-room 
 v/hich Mr. Mason put a.t his service and there 
 he had Robert's things brought, and instead of 
 lying down to rest, looked over his boy's treas- 
 ures. There were the other letters from the 
 mill. Mr. Murray, as he read them, could trace 
 the progress of Robert's distress. And there, 
 vrorse than all, was a little journal or book, 
 \vhere Robert had solaced himself by writing 
 tiown what he wanted to do for his dear " fa- 
 ther, mother, Pink, and the rest," how much 
 it would cost, how long it would take him to
 
 Between Life and Death. 297 
 
 save up the money. There were notes of boy- 
 ish impossible plans for getting more money, 
 and other notes telling how much he owed those 
 \vho had been all the world to him. There were 
 words also of regret because the " dear father 
 who was so kind to him would not be friends 
 with those whom he loved best in all the world." 
 These things cut Mr. Murray to the heart. The 
 sorrow of poor Robert was revealed to him, and 
 his own conduct to the Aliens stood before him 
 in all the baseness of its ingratitude. He was 
 amazed at himself. Should he now lose his son 
 by the judgment of God ? 
 
 All that day and night as Robert tossed and 
 raved, Mr. Murray more and more upbraided him- 
 self for his ingratitude. He heard Robert in his 
 delirium calling on "father," when 'father' meant 
 Captain 'Zekiel, but now he was not angry on- 
 ly pitiful. But Robert's chief cry was for Eliza. 
 
 " Mother, why don't you come to me ? Can't 
 you stop my headache ? Take hold of my head 
 as you used to do. Don't you care for me any 
 more because I don't belong to you ? Are you 
 all dead ? Have you gone away and starved ? 
 Have they put you all in the poorhouse ? Pink, 
 why don't you sing to me ? If you'd sing to me, 
 I could go to sleep. Pink, sing, and make my 
 headache stop. Mother ! mother !"
 
 298 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 "Why do you not send for his mother?" 
 said Dr. Lee. " A mother would do him more 
 good than all the nurses and doctors put to- 
 gether. You should lose no time. He is very 
 ill, and grows worse. His mother should be 
 here." 
 
 " He has no mother," said Mr. Mason. 
 
 " He is calling for his adopted mother," said 
 Mr. Murray. 
 
 " Has he lived long with her?" 
 
 " Ever since he can remember, until the last 
 few months, and Pink is her little daughter. 
 He is very fond of them." 
 
 " Such affections are often as strong as ties of 
 blood," said the doctor. "This boy is evidently 
 very sensitive. I should say he had been mourn- 
 ing and fretting for these friends until he has 
 brought on this sickness." 
 
 " He is just like his own mother," said Mr. 
 Murray. " She died of grief for a lost child." 
 
 " Then you had better take especial care of 
 this lad now, and get the people whom he is 
 calling after, here. It is not in humanity to 
 stand such tossing and raving as this very long. 
 He will wear himself out. He grows weaker. 
 Anything now to quiet him." 
 
 Mr. Murray hastened out and sent a telegram 
 to Captain Allen, bidding him bring Mrs. Allen
 
 Between Life and Death. 299 
 
 and Pink at once, as Robert was dangerously ill. 
 He also sent a money-order telegram for fifty 
 dollars, so that there should be no delay. 
 
 The rest of the afternoon and all the night, 
 getting only brief snatches of sleep, as Robert 
 fell into transient states of stupor, did Mr. Mur- 
 ray watch by his son. He had plenty of time 
 for repenting ; plenty of time to think what he 
 might have done, and to plan what he would do 
 if God should restore his boy. How he recalled 
 the piteous pleading in Robert's brown eyes as 
 he begged to go to Lai's Mountain for the sum- 
 mer. A "yes" then, the hope of that return, 
 might have saved all this. Then, too, Robert 
 had asked so wistfully for money to lift that 
 mortgage, which seemed to rest as heavily on 
 his young heart as on the Allen mill, and how 
 harshly he had been refused ! Mr. Murray 
 seemed to himself a monster. 
 
 But as the gray, March morning dawned, 
 Robert's heart-breaking cries, " Mother, mother, 
 come help me ! " were suddenly quieted, for the 
 door opened and softly across the room came 
 Eliza Allen. She knelt on a stool by Robert's 
 bed and took his burning head in her arms and 
 stroked and soothed his forehead with those 
 work-worn hands, whictrwere yet so soft and so 
 motherly in touch,
 
 3OO The Captains Bargain. 
 
 Robert ceased to call, " Father, father, I am 
 falling ! Hold me ! the mill is whirling about \ 
 It is going over the bank ! " for Captain Allen 
 look in his strong grasp the gesticulating, dry 
 hands, and his genial, firm voice said : 
 
 " Here I am, my son. We are all right. The 
 mill stands firm, Robert." 
 
 And there was no longer need for the sick 
 uoy to implore, " Pink, sing. Why don't you 
 h,ing to me? Pink, you sing just like a bird," 
 for Pink sat on the other side of the bed and 
 put her little hand on Robert's thin cheek, and 
 in her fresh voice, untrained but true and sweet, 
 sang the simple things which Robert loved to 
 hear: "Blue Juniata," "Buy a Broom," "Oft 
 in the Stilly Night," and the hymn that they all 
 had sung together at the mill on Sunday even- 
 ings, " O Paradise, O Paradise." 
 
 And so, soothed, caressed, sung to, feeling 
 the subtle influence of their presence whom he 
 loved, Robert grew quieter and sank into slum- 
 ber. 
 
 Mr. Murray stood at the foot of the bed, and 
 watched his son, as he lay surrounded and min- 
 istered to by that family of whom he had been 
 so strangely jealous. But there was no jealousy 
 in his heart novv, it was all driven out by a ter- 
 rible fear. He was willing to share Robert now
 
 Between Life and Death. 301 
 
 with all the world, if so be he might have any 
 part at all of him left. His heart blessed those 
 who came with help, and possible healing. 
 Hereafter he would never be able to do enough 
 for them, if only Robert might live. And the 
 Aliens, ministering to Robert, seemed to have 
 not the least rancor toward the poor Superin- 
 tendent, who had dragged Robert from them so 
 furiously, giving them no word of thanks, but 
 calling them hard names instead. Captain 
 Allen nodded encouragement to Mr. Murray, as 
 Robert fell asleep. Eliza sent glances of sym- 
 pathy and pity to the white, haggard, unhappy 
 parent. Pink tried to give him hopeful smiles, 
 while tears were running down her rosy, dimpled 
 cheeks. At that instant, far from saying that 
 Pink had red hair, and was not a pretty girl, 
 Mr. Murray was ready to affirm that she had 
 locks of spun gold and the countenance of a 
 cherub. 
 
 The Aliens had travelled all through a stormy 
 March night, and had taken no food ; yet, as 
 hour followed hour, they never flinched from 
 their post, lest Robert's sleep should be dis- 
 turbed. Eliza held her boy still in seemingly 
 tireless arms ; Captain 'Zekiel stood at his post 
 with the constancy of a caryatid ; Pink's voice 
 dropped lower and lower to suit the needs of
 
 302 The Captain's Bargain. 
 
 slumber, but still she sang on. The superseded 
 hospital nurse remembered their necessities. 
 She brought a cup of beef-tea and held it to 
 Eliza's lips, then treated the Captain to coffee 
 in the same fashion, and then Eliza's voice stole 
 into Pink's low song, so that Pink might stop 
 long enough to have something to eat. And 
 then Pink gently left her place, and drew a big 
 chair to just the spot where Mr. Murray could 
 best watch Robert, and made him sit down there 
 and drink some coffee, and lean back his head 
 on a pillow, and have his tired face bathed with 
 cologne, and an afghan tucked all about his 
 knees and hands, for Pink was a capital little 
 nurse, and then she whispered in his ear, " Dear 
 Mr. Murray, please don't look so miserable ; I 
 know Robert is going to get well. See how 
 nicely he sleeps. You sleep too, please." And 
 so she went back to her place and her singing, 
 while Mr. Murray thought this little girl in the 
 blue and black plaid, plainly-made gown poor 
 Robert's gift was certainly the most delightful 
 creature ; why, why had he not carried her, too, 
 off from the mill when he took Robert ? 
 
 It was noon before Robert roused and moved, 
 and released his willing prisoners. Then he was 
 not in his senses, and seemed to recognize no 
 one, but his cries for "father," " mother,"
 
 Between Life and Death. 303 
 
 " Pink," were stilled. He recognized their 
 presence in so far as that he would not let the 
 nurse touch him or feed him, but yielded calmly 
 when Eliza bathed his face and arms, combed 
 his hair, and gave him broth. The fury of his 
 fever and restlessness was ended ; it only needed 
 the touch of Eliza's hands, or a few notes of 
 Pink's songs, to quiet his tossings and still his 
 rnutterings. The nurse had only to wait on 
 those whom the sick tyrant permitted to wait 
 upon him. When he began to talk about Bop 
 and Jerry and the mill, Captain 'Zekiel knew 
 just what to say to him. Between whiles, in 
 the next room, the Captain passed the hours en- 
 couraging Mr. Murray, by vowing that " Rob- 
 ert would surely get well, never was there such 
 a master-hand with the sick as 'Liza was." And 
 he told Mr. Murray tales of Robert's childhood. 
 Now, for the first time, did the Superintendent 
 hear the true story of how the Captain had found 
 and brought home his Bargain. All the little 
 anecdotes of Robert's childish goodness, cour- 
 age, wit, and beauty were detailed by the good 
 Captain, and eagerly heard by the Superintend- 
 ent. And now that sorrow and fear had opened 
 Mr. Murray's eyes, he learned from these stories 
 that which the Captain had not thought of 
 teaching, the depth of affection existing be-
 
 304 The Captain s Bargain. 
 
 tvveen Robert and his foster-parents, and all the 
 generous love and self-denying care which they 
 had lavished upon him. He told himself that 
 he had been a demon to abuse these noble peo- 
 ple, and to give them hostility instead of grati- 
 tude. 
 
 Finally the force of Robert's fever was broken, 
 but now he lay in a state of exhaustion, near to 
 death,, from extreme weakness. 
 
 "We must build, him up," said Dr. Lee. 
 "Get the best old bourbon or apple-whiskey 
 and give it to him, a teaspoon of whiskey in 
 two tablespoons of rich, new milk. Begin 
 with it once in five hours, then get to once in 
 three." 
 
 "But, doctor," said Mr. Murray, "I don't 
 want to give my son any kind of whiskey. I 
 don't believe in it. Is there not something else 
 to strengthen him ? " 
 
 "Why, Mr. Murray, he is not in a state to 
 know what he is taking. You can't cultivate a 
 taste in him now." 
 
 " But I don't believe in alcohol as a medicine." 
 
 " I am giving you the best I know, sir ; I 
 have done my best in the case from the first," 
 said Dr. Lee, who was full of pride at his suc- 
 cessful treatment of Robert. 
 
 The great doctor from the city had come out
 
 Between Life and Death. 305 
 
 and approved his course, and, after two calls, 
 had left the case with him. The young doctor 
 v.'as elated. Moreover, he was one of those who 
 allocate alcohol as a medicine. 
 
 " Doctor," said Mr. Murray, earnestly, " I feel 
 deeply about this. When I was Robert's age I 
 nearly died of typhoid fever, and, in the subse- 
 quent prostration, they gave me brandy and 
 whiskey, which begot a taste for drink. I might 
 far better have died. My love of drink cursed 
 my existence, killed my wife, nearly destroyed 
 my child. I cannot have that story repeated in 
 Robert." 
 
 " Never fear, it will not be. It was a most 
 unusual case, I should say. They kept up the 
 dose too long, probably." 
 
 " Can you not think of something better than 
 the whiskey ? " said Mr. Murray, appealing to the 
 nurse. 
 
 " I never interfere with the physician in 
 charge," said the nurse. 
 
 Mr. Murray looked to Eliza. 
 
 " What do you say ? " 
 
 " I never give liquor of any kind," said Eliza, 
 promptly. " I do not think it right. It is 
 against my temperance principles." 
 
 "Temperance is a question of morals, and 
 should not be dragged into the domain of medi-
 
 306 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 cine," said Dr. Lee. " Those who know noth- 
 ing of medicine should not handicap a doctor 
 with either whims or moral principles, but let 
 him do his best. Have confidence in me, Mr. 
 Murray. I am more than interested in your 
 son." 
 
 But Eliza drew near the troubled father and 
 said in his ear : 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Murray, don't yield. Remember 
 Robert is your son, and a taste that was in you 
 may lie in him, and your story may come to be 
 his story. Oh, do be firm. I know there must 
 be some safer treatment." 
 
 " If you have no confidence in me, sir," began 
 Dr. Lee in a vexed tone, " if you question my 
 judgment " 
 
 " I have confidence in you every confidence ; 
 but I beg of you, doctor, consult your reading, 
 your experience, can you not prescribe some- 
 thing else ?" 
 
 Dr. Lee was angry. 
 
 " No, I cannot," he said, sharply. 
 
 " Claude, you can." 
 
 The voice that spoke was sweet, but imperi- 
 ous. The door into the next room where young 
 Morgan was, was open, and a lady stood on the 
 threshold. 
 
 "Claude, how often have you and I fought
 
 Between Life and Death. 307 
 
 this battle ! You know that I will not allow 
 you to give Paul alcohol. You know I have 
 proved to you again and again that alcohol is 
 not needed in medical practice." 
 
 " Aunt ! " cried Dr. Lee, between rage and 
 respect. 
 
 " Yes, aunt ; and a very nice aunt I am, young 
 man, and one for you to be truly proud of, as I 
 know you are. It is cruel of you to try and 
 force this father to give to his son a dangerous 
 poison. You are young and inexperienced, my 
 good Claude, but you do know of other reme- 
 dies than alcohol for building up prostrated 
 strength. Did I not bring you through nerv- 
 ous prostration and typhoid fever without a drop 
 of distilled or fermented poison ? Do you not 
 know that for years the Temperance Hospital 
 of London has had the lowest hospital death- 
 rate on record, and there, nothing alcoholic is 
 used ? Why, Claude, will you insist on trying 
 to build up life on a substructure of death?" 
 
 " Well, aunt, if you mean to take this case 
 out of my hands, and if Mr. Murray wishes 
 it " 
 
 " My dear Claude, we neither of us wish any- 
 thing of the kind. We want you to drop for the 
 nonce, at least, your crotchet about the medic- 
 inal virtues of alcohol and doctor this pretty lad
 
 308 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 on temperance lines. You know, Claude, you 
 would have to doctor Paul that way." 
 
 " Do me the favor, doctor," pleaded Mr. 
 Murray. 
 
 " Well, take your own risk," said the doctor 
 with a half laugh. " When my aunt enters the 
 lists right or wrong all her opponents have 
 to fly. There ! have that prescription made up ; 
 and as for diet, since my aunt and Mrs. Allen 
 consider themselves so well able to dictate and 
 decide, let them take the matter in hand. But, 
 Mr. Murray, if Robert sinks " 
 
 Mr. Murray turned pale. 
 
 " He won't sink," said the valiant Mrs. Mor- 
 gan. 
 
 " It will not be my fault if he does, remember." 
 
 " And you will not fail to claim all the honors 
 when he goes out bright and well," said Mrs. 
 Morgan. " My dear Claude, if Mr. Murray will 
 allow me to come into this case as adviser on 
 diet, I mean to keep an exact record of the 
 kind, amount, and preparation of all the food 
 and tonics which we use, so that you will have 
 it for a similar case. We shall remember the 
 pendulum-principle, Claude, and not stimulate 
 way up one hour to provoke an equal rebound 
 the next hour. We mean to have a steady non- 
 alcoholic rise."
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 JUNE SUNSHINE. 
 
 ROBERT travelled slowly up the ascent from 
 death to life and consciousness. As his loss of 
 health had been gradual, in slow heart-sickness, 
 so his restoration was tedious and protracted, 
 but it was sound and steady. He did not make 
 a gain one day or hour, to lose it the next. The 
 nurse went away, and Mrs. Allen, Pink, and 
 Mrs. Morgan did the nursing. Mr. Murray and 
 Captain 'Zekiel spent the time walking up and 
 down the school-grounds, or up and down the 
 road, coming in every hour to see how the in- 
 valid was. The two men were in strictest amity. 
 Mr. Murray had forgiven Captain Allen for 
 keeping his son, and Captain Allen had forgot- 
 ten that Mr. Murray had called him " a villain, 
 a scoundrel, a thief." They went together to 
 see the house Mr. Murray was building. 
 
 " If Robert had died, I should have had every- 
 thing stop, just where it is ; and I should soon 
 have died myself," said the Superintendent. 
 
 "Keep a good heart," said Captain 'Zekiel, 
 
 (309)
 
 310 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " Robert will not die. You will see him a man 
 in no time, as stout and as strong as I am." 
 
 Finally Robert opened his eyes, and was fully 
 conscious. The mists had passed from his brain. 
 There sat Eliza looking at him. 
 
 "Mother! Mother!" he cried, holding out 
 both his wasted hands to her, his eyes full of 
 
 " Yes, dear boy, here I am," said Eliza, kiss- 
 ing him. 
 
 Then a cloud came over Robert's face. 
 
 " Oh, mother, is the mortgage foreclosed ? 
 Are you all turned out of our home, are you all 
 scattered ? Has poor father gone West ? Is 
 the mill torn down ? " 
 
 " No, no, my boy," said Mr. Murray, leaning 
 over him. " You have been sick, that is all, and 
 your mother came to nurse you. A pretty lad 
 you are, to make us all this trouble, and fetch 
 her from home to look after you. But, cheer 
 up now, for she will stay until you can go home 
 with her to Lai's Mountain." 
 
 " Oh, father, do you mean it ? Can I go up 
 there, and see all of them ? But the mill it is 
 to be torn down father is to lose the mill and 
 the barge is broken up, and the wheel is ruined 
 by the ice, and and - " 
 
 "And what a pack of nonsense this is that
 
 June Sunshine. 311 
 
 you are talking!" said his father, cheerfully. 
 " Are you dreaming still ? Captain Allen leave 
 the mill ! No, indeed ; why should he, when 
 he owns every stick and timber of it, and all the 
 ground it stands on ? The barge broken up ! 
 Well, it is, only to make a nice new one. The 
 wheel ruined ! Why, the mill is to be put in 
 splendid order, and Captain Allen is going to 
 build a house as soon as you are well enough to 
 lay the corner-stone for him." 
 
 " But the mortgage, father, isn't the mortgage 
 to be foreclosed ? Is not a New York man to 
 have the mill?" 
 
 " Come, come, a boy of your age should know 
 nothing about mortgages ! The mortgage do 
 you mean this slip of paper?" and Mr. Murray 
 put a folded paper in Robert's hands " if that 
 is your nightmare, my dear boy, make an end of 
 it, give it to your mother here to light the fire 
 with." 
 
 Eliza heard as if dreaming. Anxiety for 
 Robert had for two weeks kept in the back- 
 ground of her thoughts the imminent ruin of 
 her home. What did Mr. Murray mean ? was 
 this that dreadful mortgage ? 
 
 " Or let Pink have it for curl-papers," said 
 Mr. Murray. 
 
 " Pink doesn't use curl-papers. Her curls are
 
 312 The Captains Bargain, 
 
 natural," said Robert, laughing. " How is Pink ? 
 Oh, I wish I could see Pink." 
 
 " So you can," said his father. " She will be 
 here in a minute. She has been singing to you 
 and feeding you for the last two weeks." 
 
 " Is Pink here too ? But how will father get 
 on if Pink and mother are both gone?" cried 
 Robert. 
 
 " He could not get on, so he came too. You 
 seem to be a very important young man, Robert. 
 It takes a whole family to nurse you. I see Cap- 
 tain Allen and Pink coming up the walk now." 
 
 "But who is at the mill ? Who takes care of 
 the twins ? " 
 
 "Jerry and Bop and the twins are keeping 
 house together, and the twins have promised to 
 be very good if you would only get well and go 
 back to see them," said his mother. 
 
 Then the door opened, and in came Pink and 
 the big Captain. 
 
 " Oh, Robert is awake and knows us ! " cried 
 Pink, hastening to him. " Robert, are you bet- 
 ter ? Oh, Robert, I am so glad ! " 
 
 " I'll be well in no time, and I'll go home 
 with you, and see you build the new house 
 and a new barge and repair the mill. Oh, won't 
 we have a good time! "said Robert, holding 
 both Captain Allen's hands.
 
 June Sunshine. 313 
 
 The Captain's face fell. In his care for Rob- 
 ert, he, too, had put the home-troubles out of 
 his mind ; but now in two weeks or less 
 they must go from their home ; his hereditary 
 mill would be his no longer. 
 
 " There's the mortgage, you know. Mother's 
 got it to burn up, hateful old paper ! Let me 
 see you tear it, father." 
 
 Was Robert still raving ? Captain Allen took 
 the paper that Eliza held out to him. What was 
 it ? It was the mortgage, surely, if the endorse- 
 ment on the fold said truly. 
 
 " Robert gives it to you as a token of his 
 love and of his and my gratitude," said Mr. 
 Murray. " Open it, Captain, and see if it is all 
 right." 
 
 Captain Allen opened it. It was right and 
 more than right There folded in it was a check 
 for two thousand dollars. The Captain gasped. 
 Never before had he handled such a sum of 
 money at one time. 
 
 "This this is too much, I cannot we 
 should not " 
 
 " Nonsense, Captain. Don't you remember 
 once I offered you the mortgage and two thou- 
 sand dollars for the boy? You gave him to me. 
 I must keep my share of the bargain." 
 
 " I did not give him to you," faltered the Cap-
 
 314 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 tain. " He was your own, and you took him ; 
 I had no right to him." 
 
 " We will share him hereafter ; he belongs to 
 us both," said Mr. Murray. "And this little 
 matter of the mortgage and of the money for a 
 home and repairs is not a question of dollars 
 between us, Allen. It is a token of my grati- 
 tude and of Robert's love. You gave him a 
 home he gives you a home. You shared all 
 with him it is his privilege to share his with 
 you. You saved him from ruin he tries to re- 
 turn the debt in some small measure. Whatever 
 he does whatever I do, we cannot show the 
 measure of our gratitude." 
 
 Tears were in all their eyes. This was a beau- 
 tiful occasion. Robert was almost well. The 
 mill was safe ! 
 
 " Haven't I got the best father in the world ? " 
 cried Robert. " Didn't I tell you how good he 
 was to me ? It seems as if I could say nothing 
 but, ' The mortgage is paid ! the mortgage is 
 paid !' It goes just like a song." 
 
 " Come, you must stop saying that and every- 
 thing else. Pink, where is the calves'-foot jelly ? " 
 cried Eliza. " We shall have this boy worse 
 again after so much excitement. 'Zekiel, you 
 had better go and write a letter to Bop and 
 Jerry. Mr. Murray, we should draw the cur-
 
 June Sunshine, 315 
 
 tains and make Robert go to sleep. Pink, you 
 may go and play dominoes or 'fox and geese' 
 with Paul Morgan ; his mother says he is very 
 peevish to-day. He has been shut up in his 
 room so long, he is tired of it. Now, Robert, let 
 us hear no more of you for the next two hours !" 
 
 Robert did not wish to be heard from. It was 
 enough more than enough to be able to lie 
 there and think that his great burden had rolled 
 away. The mill was safe ; his mother should 
 have a house a white house with a veranda. 
 His father was friends with his foster-parents, 
 and he was to go back to Lai's Mountain. He 
 lay quite still, thinking how that house should 
 be built, until he fell asleep, wandering through 
 rooms whose shadowy walls changed, enlarged, 
 shrank, as his fancy varied. 
 
 Next day young Morgan was able to go 
 down-stairs. Soon his mother would take him 
 home. And Robert was now much stronger, 
 sitting pillowed up in his bed, and developing a 
 marvellous appetite for chicken-broth. Mrs. 
 Morgan would be no longer needed to rein- 
 force Eliza in the case. The temperance treat- 
 ment had been a splendid success. 
 
 " What do you think of non-alcoholic treat- 
 ment now, Claude?" Mrs. Morgan asked her 
 nephew, as she pointed to Robert and Paul.
 
 316 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " Well, aunt, you have succeeded finely, but 
 you are a wonderful nurse and a miracle in sick- 
 room cookery, as I know to my advantage," said 
 Dr. Lee. 
 
 " I should succeed every time where the dis- 
 ease was not beyond any human help. Why, 
 Claude, should we create a fictitious strength ? 
 3y the law of action and reaction the system 
 must fall to a point as far below the normal as 
 it was forced above it. Why exhaust slowly- 
 returning strength by driving the feeble heart to 
 unnatural work ? why, when the blood is weak 
 frorn sickness, send into it an agent which shall 
 eat up the red corpuscles that are needed to 
 build up the body ? why stimulate the tired 
 brain ? why excite the jaded nerves ? why not 
 look to Nature's way and give rest, complete 
 quiet, and food, food that will build up evenly 
 and slowly and surely every hour ? True, using 
 alcohols, your patient may get well. Many a 
 patient gets well in spite of the medicine, not 
 in virtue of it. And is it not a satisfaction to 
 feel that your recovered patient has not in him 
 the seeds of your planting of future disease, or 
 worse, of a dangerous appetite, a cause of fu- 
 ture crime ? Mr. Murray has said I might tell 
 you all his story, and I will soon. He hopes 
 that it may make of you a temperance doctor.
 
 June Sunshine. 317 
 
 Young Galens such as you, should be abreast 
 with the best of your age. The temperance 
 doctor will be the doctor of the future. A 
 young man should be glad to be a pioneer in 
 all that is wise and good. Have you read all 
 the books and pamphlets on this subject, the 
 statistics which I have given you?" 
 
 " I am reading them. If I perish, I shall not 
 perish unwarned," said Dr. Lee, smiling. 
 
 " It is your patients which will perish if you 
 do not take warning. A doctor cannot be wise 
 or foolish for one alone ; he holds many lives in 
 his hands." 
 
 " That is true," said the young doctor, gravely. 
 
 If the days of illness had been dark and terri- 
 ble, the days of convalescence were most cheery 
 and beautiful. Captain Ezekiel went home ; 
 Mr. Murray went with him, but came back in 
 three days. Mother Eliza and Pink stayed to 
 take care of Robert. Robert sat up in bed and 
 listened to Pink's tales of all that had happened 
 at Lai's Mountain since the autumn. Then Pink 
 must unpack the trunk and see all the wonder- 
 ful presents which Robert's father had heaped 
 upon him. Then the pocket-book was taken 
 out, and there were forty dollars, Robert's sav- 
 ings, and nothing would do but Eliza must go 
 out with Pink and buy spring hats and jackets,
 
 318 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 gloves and boots, and handkerchiefs and collars 
 for both. 
 
 " I want you to look nice when the boys come 
 up to see me," pleaded Robert. 
 
 Then there were hours when Pink read to 
 Robert, and other hours when she placed a 
 drawing-board on the bed and played dominoes 
 and jack-straws with him, and they could afford 
 to laugh when Robert's hand would shake so 
 that the straws were forfeit every time. 
 
 " Lai's Mountain will steady your hand," said 
 Pink. 
 
 Then Robert could sit up in one of the great 
 chairs. His father ordered the most gorgeous 
 wrapper and slippers. And now his diet was 
 liberally increased, and a table was set beside his 
 chair, and Pink shared with him the most deli- 
 cious feasts of chicken, mushrooms, fruit, jellies. 
 What feasting, what joy ! 
 
 Then the boys came up to call on the conva- 
 lescent Robert. Boys are sympathetic creatures 
 in the main, and, no matter how heavily they 
 "are down on a fellow," let the fellow get into 
 trouble, fall ill, be near to death, they at once 
 forgive all his iniquities. Robert had failed to 
 be popular among his mates at boarding-school. 
 He had been moody, studied out of hours, and 
 seemed stingy.
 
 June Sunshine. 319 
 
 North was the first boy admitted to the in- 
 firmary. 
 
 " Glad to you see up, Murray. I declare, you 
 look much brighter than you did before you fell 
 sick. Brain fever seems to have done you good, 
 man. The fellows all sent their regards ; they are 
 dreadfully sorry for you." 
 
 " That's kind of them, but they needn't be 
 sorry for me. I never wa;s happier in my life. 
 I didn't think the boys liked me very well, 
 North," said Robert. 
 
 " Oh, well, now," said North, uneasily, under 
 the straight look of Robert's brown eyes, " all 
 fellows have their own ways, you know. For 
 my part I don't think it is any of our busi- 
 ness whether you or any one does like the rest 
 of us or not. Of course," added North, floun- 
 dering more and more, "we have no right to 
 expect that a fellow should join the games if he 
 don't feel like it, or give treats, or spend his 
 money if he don't wish to." 
 
 " I know what you all mean," said Pink, who 
 was standing by Robert's chair. " You thought 
 Robert cross because he did not do as the rest 
 did, and stingy because he saved up all his 
 money. Robert, was not that forty dol- 
 lars " 
 
 " Hush, Pink ; never mind. It's done."
 
 320 The Captain s Bargain. 
 
 " I won't hush," said Eliza's daughter. " Mr. 
 Murray told me all about it. Robert would not 
 take time for the games because he wanted to 
 get the three prizes, and he wanted the three 
 prizes for the sixty dollars, and he was sav- 
 ing " 
 
 " I say, Pink, hold up, will you ?" cried Rob- 
 ert. 
 
 " No, Robert, I won't. He was not saving 
 the money for himself, or because he was 
 greedy. It was for us. We were poor and 
 had a mortgage on our house, and we were to 
 lose the mill because we could not pay, and Rob- 
 ert was trying to get money to pay the mortgage 
 for us. He tried to save every cent, all for us. 
 And now his father has paid it all off, and Rob- 
 ert gave mother and me the money that he had 
 Laved, and he made us buy things for ourselves. 
 I bought these boots. I never had a pair so 
 nice before. You see, Robert got lost when he 
 was little, and my father found him and adopted 
 him, and he thinks that is a reason for doing 
 everything for us." 
 
 " I ought to think so," said Robert, who had 
 vainly tried by nudges and pokes to stop Pink's 
 . loquence. " North, they did everything for me. 
 I shared all they had. They went without things 
 to get me things. They worked for me. They
 
 June Sunshine. 321 
 
 sat up nights with me when I was sick. They 
 loved me just like their own. It would be 
 queer if I could not do a little thing like that 
 for them." 
 
 " I say it was fine," cried North, charmed with 
 this explanation and with Pink's fervid cham- 
 pionship. " I say it was fine all round !" 
 
 The next day, when the matron came to pay 
 her regular morning visit to the invalid, she 
 brought a splendid bouquet of hot-house flow- 
 ers,, " Sent by the boys to Master Murray." 
 
 Not a word .further was ever spoken about 
 previous misunderstandings. The boys and 
 Robert thought that the flowers had fully ex- 
 pressed all that was proper to be said on the oc- 
 casion. 
 
 And now Pink and Robert spent hours, 
 sheets of paper, red ink and black ink, and 
 words innumerable, upon plans for the new 
 house to be built on the long-selected site near 
 the mill. Seven rooms, a veranda, an outside 
 kitchen, this house must have. They drew plan 
 after plan. One very choice plan, on being 
 presented to " the woman-with-a-head-on-her- 
 shoulders," was found, though containing only 
 seven rooms, to be about as large as a hotel. 
 Another chef d'ceuvre unluckily omitted the 
 staircase altogether, and gave no access to the
 
 322 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 cellar except by going entirely round the house 
 outside. Another was deemed perfect, until it 
 was found that every room was hermetically 
 sealed as to doorways, and there would be no 
 way of entrance except by ladders and through 
 the windows. Pink was therefore discarded as 
 assistant architect, and, Eliza and Robert going 
 into partnership, produced a very nice plan, 
 which Mr. Murray carried off to Lai's Moun- 
 tain. 
 
 From Lai's Mountain came the most delight- 
 ful news. The New York man, who had been 
 disappointed about securing the mill, did not 
 resign his notion of a summer hotel. He 
 bought a spot half a mile higher up the creek 
 and went to work in haste. The new building 
 would furnish work for the Captain, Jerry, and 
 Bop. Besides, they would work on their own 
 new home, and on repairs on the mill, and the 
 present living-rooms were to be turned into a 
 good carpenter's shop. As for the barge, that 
 was to be replaced by a smaller, handsomer, less 
 cumbersome craft, with a little steam-engine using 
 coal-oil for fuel, and this craft was to be used as 
 a pleasure-boat for the boarders and tourists, and 
 it was supposed that Jerry and Bop as captain 
 and crew would harvest shekels. 
 
 Captain 'Zekiel wrote that the twins had
 
 June Sunshine. 323 
 
 turned over a new leaf and behaved beautifully 
 in their joy of new fortunes. The girl cooked 
 and kept house almost as well as Pink, and her 
 twin-brother made fires, fed the fowls, cleaned 
 the windows and garden, and kept Robert as a 
 model before his eyes. 
 
 " Father will have to make us some new 
 furniture," said Pink, " everybody has outgrown 
 the old trundle-beds. But we have the two 
 carpets that mother and Jerry made, and they 
 will do for our best rooms, that's one comfort." 
 
 Whereupon Robert burst into hilarious laugh- 
 ter. 
 
 Finally, by the middle of April, Robert was 
 pronounced quite well. Doctor Lee thought 
 he should remain in the city until June, and do 
 no more studying until fall. 
 
 " I've made poor work of school-life this year, 
 father," said Robert, "but next fall I'll come 
 back and get on all right. I like this school and 
 the fellows first-rate now." 
 
 " The failure was all my fault," said his fa- 
 ther, " and what do you want to do for a busi- 
 ness, Robert ? " 
 
 " I want to go into business," said Robert, 
 " into the lumber business, if you don't mind. 
 I've been among the mills and the lumber all 
 my life. I can't tell you how I like a lumber-
 
 324 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 yard. The smell of all the wood makes me 
 think of the forests, and the logging-camps, and 
 log-drives, and the mills, and the water-wheels. 
 You won't mind, will you ? I really feel sure I 
 haven't the making of a President of any kind in 
 me. I am a very common person." 
 
 Mr. Murray laughed. 
 
 " Be what you like, so that you do honestly 
 and well, whatever work you undertake." 
 
 Then Eliza and Pink went back to Lai's 
 Mountain, and left Robert to come with the 
 June sunshine.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 MR. MURRAY BUILDS BETTER HOUSES. 
 
 MR. MURRAY'S new house was finished and 
 the furnishing began. A happy chance brought 
 Mrs. Morgan to the city, and she became chief 
 adviser and aid in that buying. But to Robert 
 the most delightful part of it was that he was 
 buying not only for his own room in the West 
 Philadelphia house, but for that dear new seven- 
 room house at Lai's Mountain. In the excess 
 of his joy he would have bought plush chairs, or 
 pictures nearly as large as the humble walls, and 
 have left out simple kitchen appurtenances alto- 
 gether. But Mrs. Morgan saved him from such 
 indiscretions. She expounded that the house on 
 Lai's Mountain should be furnished to suit Lai's 
 Mountain, and that as Eliza did her own work, 
 her furnishings should not make work burden- 
 some. But the rag-carpets were relegated to 
 the kitchen and the boys' bed-room, and the 
 parlor had a Brussels carpet, a parlor organ, and 
 a little book-case, filled with just the right books 
 for every one. Never was human being hap- 
 
 (3*0
 
 326 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 pier than Robert over every separate set of 
 cottage-furniture, over every chair and table, 
 over the hogshead packed with crockery. Mr. 
 Murray grew ten years younger in witnessing 
 his son's ecstasies. Perhaps, also, his rejuvena- 
 tion was partly due to the expansion of his own 
 heart in deeds of just liberality, in expression of 
 gratitude ; for there is nothing does us so much 
 good as the exercise of these virtues. " He 
 who giveth, groweth like his God." 
 
 " You seemed to take comparatively little in- 
 terest in our shopping last fall, Robert, but now 
 you are mad with joy." 
 
 " Yes, but that was only for me ; and I had 
 never felt the need of the things I was getting. 
 Besides, then I was so stunned at losing my old 
 home and family I could only think of them. 
 Now I am as happy as I can be." 
 
 Indeed, Mr. Murray did not find that he him- 
 self was loved any the less, because other love 
 was not repressed. Robert thought there never 
 was such a good father as his. And now the 
 buying was complete, and it was time to set out 
 for Lai's Mountain, Mr. Murray and Robert 
 were to live at the chalet, and the deaf-mute had 
 put the little place in order, and was waiting to 
 receive them. But the last exploit before leav- 
 ing Philadelphia rendered Robert jubilant beyond
 
 Mr. Murray Builds Better Houses. 327 
 
 description; he laughed until he cried, he laughed 
 until he lay back on the sofa, and made their 
 rooms at the hotel ring with his glee. What 
 was he laughing at ? At Jerry. One of the 
 wildest dreams of Robert's life became a reality. 
 He sent for Jerry to come to the city, and he 
 sent him back a new Jerry, whom scarcely any 
 one recognized. He bought for Jerry a patent 
 leg, with springs so artfully constructed that 
 Jerry was more content than ever with his con- 
 dition, only this " new leg needed a boot like a 
 Christian," as Jerry put it. Also, Jerry got a 
 glass eye, " a glass eye that looked just like a 
 real eye, so that Jerry himself could hardly tell 
 which was glass and which was real." When 
 Jerry, with a booted patent leg, a glass eye, a 
 new tweed suit, and a head for the first and last 
 time manipulated by a city barber, appeared be- 
 fore Robert, Robert executed a war - dance, 
 shouted and shrieked with fun, until his father 
 remonstrated in favor of order ; and then the 
 boy rolled on the sofa and laughed until he stop- 
 ped from sheer exhaustion. 
 
 " I never had such fun as in rebuilding Jerry," 
 he declared. " When we went to supper no one 
 scared at Jerry ; he looked just like other peo- 
 ple. No one would guess that we'd bought 
 nearly half of him at a shop."
 
 328 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 "Well, it's time," said Jerry, surveying him- 
 self in the cheval-glass. "I'm nearly as good 
 as new. No one would think that me and 
 whiskey had had such troubles. I've got the 
 better of the work of that old black bottle now." 
 
 "You should have a coat of arms, Jerry," 
 said Robert. " I will illuminate an original one 
 for you, in red and gilt, if you like, and a little 
 black and blue. I should suggest a bottle, noir, 
 prostrate, a Temperance Badge, dor rampant, 
 a pledge, gules volant, a few other things, and 
 the motto, ' Rejoice not over me, oh ! mine 
 enemy.' " 
 
 " Robert, Robert, I fear you are going out of 
 your head again ! " said his father. 
 
 "There's just one thing more I want," said 
 Robert, " and that I can't have. I would like 
 to see Bop and the twins when Jerry goes into 
 the mill to-morrow morning." 
 
 Robert found that there had been another 
 thing \vhich he wanted. At least, he wanted it 
 when it was offered to him, and that was a 
 horse. A pair of saddle-horses came round one 
 morning to the hotel for Mr. Murray and Rob- 
 ert. They went to ride them in Fairmount Park. 
 
 " How do you like that horse ? " asked Mr. 
 M urray. 
 
 " He is splendid ! " cried Robert.
 
 Mr. Murray Builds Better Houses. 329 
 
 " I'm glad you think so. He is yours. This 
 one is mine. We are going to ride all the way 
 from the city to the cottage at Lai's Mountain. 
 1 low will you like that ? " 
 
 " I couldn't like anything better." 
 
 " And I am negotiating for the purchase of an 
 interest in a large lumber-yard, so that I shall 
 have an opening for you. After another year 
 in school, or two perhaps, you must go into 
 the business and learn it thoroughly from the 
 beginning. No half-way doings for me." 
 
 That was a beautiful journey to Lai's Moun- 
 tain. The world was in all the glory, the sunny 
 warmth, the delicious perfumed air of June. 
 Each mile of the way the scenery seemed to 
 grow lovelier and lovelier. Robert told his fa- 
 ther tales of his journeys down the Schuylkill in 
 the barge Fair-Weather. Mr. Murray did not 
 now resent these tales. He saw that his son 
 had had a safe and happy childhood, which 
 had moulded him in upright and generous 
 feelings. 
 
 They rode along the banks of the beautiful 
 river, and Robert in his joy sang songs that 
 Eliza had sung to her children as they drifted 
 down-stream in the Fair- Weather. 
 
 " The water ! the water ! 
 
 The dear and blessed thing.
 
 33 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 Which all day fed the little flowers 
 On its banks blossoming. 
 
 " The water ! the water ! 
 
 That murmured in my ear 
 Hymns of a saint-like purity 
 
 Which angels well might hear, 
 And whisper in the gate of heaven 
 How meek a pilgrim there was shriven." 
 
 Or again, when his father would say, " Sing, 
 Robert," he would chant : 
 
 " Now to the rivulets from the mountains 
 
 Point the rods of the fortune-tellers, 
 Youth perpetual dwells in fountains, 
 
 Not in flasks and casks and.cellars. 
 Then with the water fill the pitcher, 
 
 Wreathed about with classic fables, 
 Ne'er Falernian threw a richer 
 
 Light upon Lucullus' tables." 
 
 " That makes me think, Robert, I must buy 
 for us a ' Longfellow pitcher.' As good tem- 
 perance people, we must have one of those po- 
 etic jugs for the centre of our table." 
 
 " I wish," said Robert, " that some one would 
 collect all, or as much as possible, of the pretty 
 things the poets have said about temperance 
 and water and put them into a little gift-book. 
 North is great on Latin, and he gave us out 
 some nice things one day from the Latin poets 
 about water. But from what I heard the fellows
 
 Mr. Murray Builds Better Houses. 331 
 
 reading in the higher classes, I reckoned they said 
 a deal more in praise of wine." 
 
 " That is true. But I think they would not 
 have praised so freely if they had had wines as 
 alcoholic as we have now, or if they had had 
 rum, gin, and brandy with their horrible effects. 
 It took a deal of the wine of the ancients to 
 produce a drunkenness, very mild and brief in 
 comparison with the drunkenness that is the 
 product of the alcoholic drinks of our day. Peo- 
 ple often forget how comparatively modern a 
 thing distillation is. We should have had anti- 
 liquor crusades hundreds of years ago, if the 
 need had been as great as it has now grown to 
 be." 
 
 Stopping as they chose, to rest and view the 
 scenery, it was the third day when the ride 
 ended by their reaching the mill. What a 
 change was there. Beyond the mill, on the level, 
 shaded by the big chestnut-tree, rose the new 
 house. On the ridge of the roof sat Captain 
 'Zekiel, shingling away with all his might. On 
 a scaffolding, at one corner, stood Bop, nailing 
 on clap-boards, with the skill of an experienced 
 carpenter. On the ground stood the recon- 
 structed Jerry, also nailing on clap-boards. Up 
 and down ran the youngest boy, carrying clap- 
 boards to the workers. In the garden, near the
 
 33 2 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 beehives, singing to the bees, sat Pink in a 
 white apron, her knitting in her hands as usual. 
 The youngest sister saw them coming, and down 
 the road she dashed, waving her hands, her hair 
 floating out on the breeze. Pink heard the note 
 of joy, and dropped her knitting. Eliza hurried 
 from the kitchen, where she was cooking supper. 
 She came waving a meat-fork, just as when 
 Robert had first seen her, but not now to order 
 off Robert. She would as soon have thought 
 of ordering off Pink or Bop or the twins, as her 
 dear Robert. The cries of welcome echoed up 
 to the new house, and Captain 'Zekiel scrambled 
 from the roof, Bop came nearly headlong from 
 the scaffolding, Jerry dropped his hammer, and 
 the whole family clustered about Robert as bees 
 about a new queen. 
 
 They all had supper in the mill-kitchen, and 
 Eliza brought out her best preserves and the 
 fruit-cake which she had kept in readiness. It 
 was nine o'clock before Robert and the Super- 
 intendent set off for their cottage, where the 
 deaf-mute was waiting for them, the rooms 
 decked with flowers in festive array. 
 
 Then began a joyous summer. Robert helped 
 work on the new house. He nailed on clap- 
 boards, and watched the hanging of doors, and 
 he and Pink did nearly all the inside painting,
 
 Mr. Murray Builds Better Houses. 333 
 
 and under his direction, as he said " it was all 
 the fashion," they stained and varnished a wal- 
 nut border a foot wide around each floor " to 
 go around the carpets." 
 
 " Only, you know, Robert, it will look rather 
 funny before we get any carpets," said Pink. 
 
 " Until then," said Robert, gravely, " we will 
 pretend that the white wood part is a matting." 
 And they both laughed with delight at this con- 
 ceit. 
 
 As to all that furniture which he had bought, 
 Robert said never one word. He overheard 
 the family planning where they should place 
 their few small possessions in the new house, 
 and he laughed in his sleeve. 
 
 At last the house was finished and cleaned. 
 Then Robert announced that the next day 
 would be his birthday, and they must all drop 
 work, and spend it with him at the chalet. 
 
 " But, Robert, we meant to move to-morrow," 
 said Eliza. 
 
 "Oh, put off moving for a day, can't you, 
 mother? I shall take it very hard of you if you 
 do not spend with me the first birthday I have 
 ever kept." 
 
 " I knew that remark would fetch 'em," he 
 said, in gleeful confidence to his father. 
 
 It fetched them. They all came up the
 
 334 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 hill and spent the day, and had a very merry 
 time. 
 
 During the day several loaded wagons stop- 
 ped at the new house, and the Britt family went 
 there in a very free and easy fashion. They set 
 the new furniture in place, and brought in and 
 distributed all the things from the living-rooms 
 at the mill. Curtains were put at all the win- 
 dows and carpets were laid. 
 
 When the Aliens at nightfall came home, 
 they went into the new house to take a look, 
 and could hardly believe their eyes. It was fur- 
 nished throughout. In the parlor was the organ, a 
 music-rack, music, a little book-case, some books, 
 pictures on the walls, a black sofa, and some 
 cane-seat chairs around a nice table. Eliza's kitch- 
 en-ware was in the new kitchen. At the back 
 door waited a hogshead of new crockery. 
 
 " It looked," said Captain 'Zekiel, "just as if 
 some other people had moved in while they 
 were gone and meant to live there." 
 
 " It looked," said Bop, "just as if they owned 
 Aladdin's lamp. Was there anything else they 
 could wish for ? " 
 
 No. Bop did not think there was. 
 
 " They were so rich, they felt like kings and 
 queens ! " 
 
 They slept in the new house that night ; that
 
 Mr, Murray Biiilds Better Houses. 335 
 
 is, they sat up and walked around and talked 
 and looked, and Captain 'Zekiel rubbed his 
 hands and said over and over again : 
 
 o 
 
 " Oh, what bad bargains I make ; don't I, 
 'Liza ? There was Jerry, and there was Rob- 
 ert. But Robert I should have carried off to 
 the poorhouse, shouldn't I, 'Liza? Oh, a Bad 
 Bargain was Robert ! " 
 
 "The Bargain you made about Robert was 
 the very best bargain you ever made in your life, 
 'Zekiel." 
 
 "So it was," said Captain 'Zekiel, seriously. 
 " If it had not been for that bargain I made 
 about him, by now I should be in a drunkard's 
 grave, and you and the children would be scat- 
 tered 'most any where, having hard lines, all of you. 
 I did not see my danger then. I felt that there 
 was no danger, but now I see where I stood. I 
 was loving the drink more and more each day, and 
 was going down-hill just as fast as I could." 
 
 " Why, father," said the twin-boy, "you don't 
 mean to say you could ever have been a drunk- 
 * ard, do you ?" 
 
 " Yes, I do. Take warning ! Any man may 
 become a drunkard who begins to drink at all. 
 True, he may not, but the chances are very 
 heavily against him. There is one safe way 
 the way of total abstinence."
 
 336 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 " Hold on there, Captain," cried Jerry, "even 
 that is not always a safe way. I didn't find it 
 so. I never drank a drop, but I lost a leg and 
 an eye along of drink, though to look at me now 
 you might not think it. I say there is only one 
 safe way the way of NATIONAL PROHIBI- 
 TION ! " 
 
 " Hurrah for National Prohibition ! " cried 
 Bop and his brother, and over the new Brussels 
 carpet, out over the veranda, out upon the grass 
 under the chestnut-tree they went, turning hand- 
 springs, until they looked like a pair of queer 
 living wheels. 
 
 " Come right in and go to bed," said Eliza. 
 " It is nearly two o'clock in the morning. The 
 idea of you boys turning somersaults over a 
 brand-new carpet ! " 
 
 " It's the carpet and the house and all the 
 other things which make us so happy," cried 
 Bop, and he and his brother, followed by Jerry, 
 marched up to bed to the tune of a song which 
 they had just learned at the red school-house : 
 
 " One more river to cross ! 
 
 The river of Prohibition ! 
 One more river to cross ! " 
 
 " They'll have the roof down with their 
 noise," laughed Eliza. 
 
 " It is a strong roof, and the song is a good
 
 Mr. Murray Builds Better Houses. 337 
 
 song," said Captain 'Zekiel ; " but, 'Liza, you 
 and I are older, and the song we feel to sing is 
 a different song, ' The lines have fallen unto me 
 in pleasant places ; yea, I have a goodly heri- 
 tage,' and ' What shall I render unto the Lord 
 for all His benefits toward me?" 
 
 "And there is another, Ezekiel," said Eliza, 
 Jaying her hand on his arm ; "a song which be- 
 longs to you, for you always had a generous 
 heart, doing good as you had opportunity, 
 ' Cast thy bread upon the waters, for thou shalt 
 find it after many days'; ' Blessed are they that 
 sow beside all waters.' " 
 
 And, at last, silence and sleep fell over the 
 new home. 
 
 All the neighborhood rejoiced in the improved 
 fortunes of the Aliens, and in the happiness and 
 restored health of the Superintendent. 
 
 The history of Robert was a beautiful little 
 romance let into the commonplaces of Lai's 
 Mountain. 
 
 It seemed that now all things would prosper 
 with Captain 'Zekiel. He found business im- 
 proving. The summer hotel with its guests 
 promised to be a source of revenue. 
 
 The first trip of the new Fair- Weather was 
 an event. All the people from the tourists' 
 camp went. For some days the boat was
 
 338 The Captains Bargain. 
 
 crowded every trip. Men, women, and chil- 
 dren, all wanted to go to Lacy in the steam- 
 barge. Also, it was chartered by the artists for 
 longer excursions. 
 
 In the new, white house, which had been the 
 ideal of her days, Mrs. 'Liza lost her careworn 
 look and took a fresh lease of life. She woke 
 in the morning, she slept at night, without be- 
 ing burdened with that terrible mortgage. 
 
 Captain Allen had now his laugh and his joke 
 for everybody. He had always been cheery, 
 now he was simply hilarious. 
 
 " There is one thing more I am thinking of, 
 Mrs. Allen," said the Superintendent. " I want 
 to send Pink to a good school for two or three 
 years. Do you know our Robert was planning 
 that ? He thinks of everything, that boy ! Yes, 
 yes, it is altogether better that Pink should have 
 advantages that she cannot get here. We will 
 find her a school near Philadelphia. I have 
 given you half of Robert, I think you must 
 give me half of Pink." 
 
 " It seems only fair play," said Mrs. Allen 
 with a laugh. 
 
 " I shall have a fine time next winter," said 
 Mr. Murray. " Once a month, Robert, you will 
 come home from Friday afternoon till Monday, 
 and once a month Pink will come in the same
 
 Mr. Murray Builds Better Houses. 339 
 
 way. I shall give one of my rooms to Pink and 
 call it by her name. But I shall not have you 
 both home the same week, mind you. That 
 would be a feast one week and a famine the 
 next. I shall have my company by installments, 
 so I will not be too lonesome." 
 
 " All right," laughed Robert and Pink. 
 
 " You'll let us come home together for Thanks- 
 giving and Christmas, won't you ?" said Robert. 
 
 " Oh, Pink must come here for Christmas," 
 cried Eliza. " I cannot give up Pink for nine 
 months together." 
 
 " Pink, Pink, why does every one think so 
 much of you?" said Mr. Murray. 
 
 " Little, plain, red-headed girl. I'm surprised 
 at it; aren't you, father?" whispered Robert 
 saucily in his father's ear. 
 
 " Can't we go to the city ? " screamed the 
 twins. 
 
 " Bop shall come to the city in four years to 
 go into my lumber-yard," said Robert import- 
 antly. 
 
 " Don't count on me to come," said Jerry. 
 " I'd rather give up my new leg and my new eye 
 than leave the Allen mill. Hush up, you noisy 
 twins ! You'll stop here with me and help run 
 Lai's Mountain." 
 
 It was thus through " The Captain's Bargain "
 
 340 The Captain's Bargain. 
 
 that fairer fortunes came to all the Captain's 
 family. " There is that giveth and yet increas- 
 eth." 
 
 And three or four years later, when Robert 
 was a diligent young man of business in the 
 city, his father said to him, one day, of some 
 new venture : 
 
 " I made a deal of money by that, Robert. 
 You will be a rich man. What will you do with 
 your fortune ?" 
 
 " Father," said Robert, "you remember how 
 you used to pass the old mill and lean down 
 from your horse, and hand me toys or boxes of 
 candy and say, ' What will you do with them ?' 
 What did I use to say?" 
 
 " You used to say, ' Half for Pink,' " said his 
 father. 
 
 " Well, I haven't changed my views yet," said 
 Robert. 
 
 " All right," said his father ; " only remember 
 that we are all only stewards and lease-holders 
 of God, and we should say of what we have, 
 'All for Heaven and for Humanity.' ' 
 
 THE END.
 
 000 ,30 035