Genre Fiction. Page - 228

ut her eyes,squeezing the lids down, frightened. But when she thought of the lane shecould see nothing but the green banks, the three tall elms, and the redcampion pricking through the white froth of the cow's parsley; her motherstood on the garden walk in her wide, swinging gown; she was holding thered and white flowers up to her face and saying, "Look, howbeautiful they are."

She saw her all the time while Connie was telling her the secret. Shewanted to get up and go to her. Connie knew what it meant when youstiffened suddenly and made yourself tall and cold and silent. The coldsilence would frighten her and she would go away. Then, Harriett thought,she could get back to her mother and Longfellow.

Every afternoon, through the hours before her father came home, she sat inthe cool, green-lighted drawing-room reading Evangeline aloud toher mother. When they came to the beautiful places they looked at eachother and smiled.

She passed through her fourteenth year sedately,

moment, and he broke in again hastily.

"Oh, mummie, don't sit down there, that's my table," he said.

"Darling, I'm so sorry," Barbara Rackstraw answered. "Had you got anything on it?"

"Well, I was going to put the dinner things," Adrian explained. "I'll just see if the chicken's cooked. Oh, it's lovely!"

"How nice!" Barbara said abstractedly. "Is it a large chicken?"

"Not a very large one," Adrian admitted. "There's enough for me and you and my Bath auntie."

"Oh," said Barbara, startled, "is your Bath auntie here?"

"Well, she may be coming," said Adrian. "Mummie, why do I have a Bath auntie?"

"Because a baby grew up into your Bath auntie, darling," his mother said. "Unintentional but satisfactory, as far as it goes. Adrian, do you think your father will like cold sausages? Because there doesn't seem to be anything else much."

"I don't want any cold sausages," Adrian said hurriedly.

"No, my angel, but it's the twenty-seventh of the month, an

soil us! here was a good shoot!"

Bennet raised the old archer on his knee. He was not yet dead; his face worked, and his eyes shut and opened like machinery, and he had a most horrible, ugly look of one in pain.

"Can ye hear, old Nick?" asked Hatch. "Have ye a last wish before ye wend, old brother?"

"Pluck out the shaft, and let me pass, a' Mary's name!" gasped Appleyard. "I be done with Old England. Pluck it out!"

"Master Dick," said Bennet, "come hither, and pull me a good pull upon the arrow. He would fain pass, the poor sinner."

Dick laid down his cross-bow, and pulling hard upon the arrow, drew it forth. A gush of blood followed; the old archer scrambled half upon his feet, called once upon the name of God, and then fell dead. Hatch, upon his knees among the cabbages, prayed fervently for the welfare of the passing spirit. But even as he prayed, it was plain that his mind was still divided, and he kept ever an eye upon the corner of the wood from which the shot had come

g ring.

He stepped past her heavily, and though she said nothing, he knew she grudged him his coming joy. Then, full of rage with her and contempt for himself, and giving himself the luxury of a mild, a very mild, oath--Ellen had very early made it clear she would have no swearing in her presence--he lit the hall gas full-flare.

"How can we hope to get lodgers if they can't even see the card?" he shouted angrily.

And there was truth in what he said, for now that he had lit the gas, the oblong card, though not the word "Apartments" printed on it, could be plainly seen out-lined against the old-fashioned fanlight above the front door.

Bunting went into the sitting-room, silently followed by his wife, and then, sitting down in his nice arm-chair, he poked the little banked-up fire. It was the first time Bunting had poked the fire for many a long day, and this exertion of marital authority made him feel better. A man has to assert himself sometimes, and he, Bunting, had not asserted hi

red the anguish of my own bride's being also made a witness tothe same point, but the admiral knew where to wound me. Be still,my soul, no matter. The colonel was then brought forward with hisevidence.

It was for this point that I had saved myself up, as the turning-point of my case. Shaking myself free of my guards, - who had nobusiness to hold me, the stupids, unless I was found guilty, - Iasked the colonel what he considered the first duty of a soldier?Ere he could reply, the President of the United States rose andinformed the court, that my foe, the admiral, had suggested'Bravery,' and that prompting a witness wasn't fair. The presidentof the court immediately ordered the admiral's mouth to be filledwith leaves, and tied up with string. I had the satisfaction ofseeing the sentence carried into effect before the proceedings wentfurther.

I then took a paper from my trousers-pocket, and asked, 'What doyou consider, Col. Redford, the first duty of a soldier? Is itobedience?'

'It

the village there was ever asmile upon his lips and a greeting in his eyes. There was not abeggar upon the country side who did not know that his heart was assoft as his muscles were hard.

There was nothing that he liked to talk of more than his oldbattles, but he would stop if he saw his little wife coming, for theone great shadow in her life was the ever-present fear that some dayhe would throw down sledge and rasp and be off to the ring oncemore. And you must be reminded here once for all that that formercalling of his was by no means at that time in the debased conditionto which it afterwards fell. Public opinion has gradually becomeopposed to it, for the reason that it came largely into the hands ofrogues, and because it fostered ringside ruffianism. Even thehonest and brave pugilist was found to draw villainy round him, justas the pure and noble racehorse does. For this reason the Ring isdying in England, and we may hope that when Caunt and Bendigo havepassed away, they may have n

He will be so glad to hear that you have come. I had better go and tellhim. Perhaps you will kindly sit down until he is able to come to you,"and with this she departed on her mission.

It struck me as a little odd that, considering his anxiety and theapparent urgency of the case, Mr. Weiss should not have been waiting toreceive me. And when several minutes elapsed without his appearing, theoddness of the circumstance impressed me still more. Having no desire,after the journey in the carriage, to sit down, I whiled away the timeby an inspection of the room. And a very curious room it was; bare,dirty, neglected and, apparently, unused. A faded carpet had been flunguntidily on the floor. A small, shabby table stood in the middle of theroom; and beyond this, three horsehair-covered chairs and a chest ofdrawers formed the entire set of furniture. No pictures hung on themouldy walls, no curtains covered the shuttered windows, and the darkdrapery of cobwebs that hung from the ceiling to commemorate

er Carlisle assizes,some six weeks later. It was proved that he was the most desperaterogue in the North of England, for he had done three murders at theleast, and there were charges enough against him upon the sheet to havehanged him ten times over.

Well now, I could not pass over my boyhood without telling you aboutthis, which was the most important thing that happened to me. But Iwill go off upon no more side tracks; for when I think of all that iscoming, I can see very well that I shall have more than enough to dobefore I have finished. For when a man has only his own little privatetale to tell, it often takes him all his time; but when he gets mixed upin such great matters as I shall have to speak about, then it is hard onhim, if he has not been brought up to it, to get it all set down to hisliking. But my memory is as good as ever, thank God, and I shall try toget it all straight before I finish.

It was this business of the burglar that first made a friendship betweenJim Horscrof

ul poisonous flowers. The adders hissed at him as he went by, and the bright parrots flew screaming from branch to branch. Huge tortoises lay asleep upon the hot mud. The trees were full of apes and peacocks.

On and on he went, till he reached the outskirts of the wood, and there he saw an immense multitude of men toiling in the bed of a dried-up river. They swarmed up the crag like ants. They dug deep pits in the ground and went down into them. Some of them cleft the rocks with great axes; others grabbled in the sand.

They tore up the cactus by its roots, and trampled on the scarlet blossoms. They hurried about, calling to each other, and no man was idle.

From the darkness of a cavern Death and Avarice watched them, and Death said, 'I am weary; give me a third of them and let me go.' But Avarice shook her head. 'They are my servants,' she answered.

And Death said to her, 'What hast thou in thy hand?'

'I have three grains of corn,' she answered; 'what is that to thee?'

alk!"

"Here comes John with the blacksnake!" shouted someone, and a tremor ran through Tope Sorley's shivering body.

I pushed aside the butt of the ugly whip thrust eagerly into my hand.

"Tope," I said, "you've worked one of my father's farms for years. Has any Buckner ever treated you any way but square?"

"Nossuh," came faintly.

"Then what are you afraid of? Why don't you speak up? Something's going on in the swamps. You know, and I want you to tell us why the town niggers have all run away, why Ridge Jackson was killed, why the swamp niggers are acting so mysteriously."

"And what kind of devilment that cussed Saul Stark's cookin' up over on Tularoosa!" shouted one of the men.

Tope seemed to shrink into himself at the mention of Stark.

"I don't dast," he shuddered. "He'd put me in de swamp!"

"Who?" I demanded. "Stark? Is Stark a conjer man?"

Tope sank his head in his hands and did not answer. I laid my hand on his shoulder.

"Tope,"