Citation
Caroline

Material Information

Title:
Caroline a Franconia story
Series Title:
Franconia stories
Creator:
Abbott, Jacob, 1803-1879
Ward and Co. (London, England) ( Publisher )
John Childs and Son ( Printer )
Place of Publication:
London
Publisher:
Ward and Co.
Manufacturer:
John Childs and Son
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Edition:
2nd ed.
Physical Description:
150, <2> p. : ill. ; 18 cm.

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Cousins -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Brothers and sisters -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Country life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Dogs -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Embossed cloth bindings (Binding) -- 1855 ( rbbin )
Publishers' advertisements -- 1855 ( rbgenr )
Bldn -- 1855
Genre:
Embossed cloth bindings (Binding) ( rbbin )
Publishers' advertisements ( rbgenr )
novel ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage:
England -- London
England -- Bungay
Target Audience:
juvenile ( marctarget )

Notes

General Note:
Baldwin Library copy contains inscribed date of 1855.
General Note:
Publisher's advertisements follow text.
Statement of Responsibility:
by Jacob Abbott.

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
Resource Identifier:
026555061 ( ALEPH )
17305197 ( OCLC )
ALG0964 ( NOTIS )

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Full Text
Aw oe a _
MELE ha pn EO Le

Zs ee. Lo yp A Zo exe
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Bt Sok,
Bp bes
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RIN IER AR
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A Franeomsa Store, |
BY JACOB ABBOTT. !

f Srrond ENnition.














LONDON :
WARD AND CO., 27, PATERNOSTER ROW.





ENGLISH COPYRIGHT.

JOHN CHILDS AND SON, BUNGAY.



PREFACE.



Tue development of the moral sentiments in the human
heart, im early life.—and everything in fact which relates to
the formation of character,—is determined in a far greater de-
gree by sympathy, and by the influence of example, than by
formal precepts and didactic instruction. If a boy hears his
father speaking kindly to a robin in the spring,——welcoming its
coming and offering it food,—there arises at once in his own
mind a feeling of kindness toward the bird, and toward all the
animal creation, which is produced by a sort of sympathetic
action, a power somewhat similar to what in physical philoso-
phy is called tzduction. On the other hand, if the father, in~
stead of feeding the bird, goes eagerly for a gun, in order that
he may shoot it, the boy will sympathize in that desire, and
growing up under such an influence, there will be gradually
formed within him, through the mysterious tendency of the
youthful heart to vibrate in unison with hearts that are near,
a disposition to kill and destroy all helpless beings that come
within his power. There is no need of any formal instruction
in either cage. Of a thousand children brought up under the
former of the above-described imfluences, nearly every one,
when he sees a bird, will wish to go and get crumbs to feed it ;
while in the latter case, nearly every one will just as certainly



e

Vi PREFACE.

look for a stone. Thus the growing up in the right atmosphere,
rather than the receiving of the right instruction, is the condi-
tion which it is most important to secure, in plans for forming
the characters of children.

It is in accordance with this philosophy that these stories,
though written mainly with a view to their moral influence on
the hearts and dispositions of the readers, contain very little
formal cxhortation and instruction. They present quiet and
peaceful pictures of happy domestic life, portraying generally
such conduct, and expressing such sentiments and- feelings, as it
is desirable to exhibit and express in the presence of children.

The books, however, will be found, perhaps, after all, to be
useful mainly in entertaining and amusing the youthful readers
who may peruse them, as the writing of them has been the
amusement and recreation cf the author in the intervals of
more serious pursuits.



CONTENTS.



CHAPTER PAGE
I.—-THE PRESENTS .« . . . - . - I
JI.— PHONNY’S LETTER . : . : . 14
TII.— roe walk . . . . - . - 380
IV.—a vovaGe : . - . : - : AS
V.—BEECHNUT’S RETURN . . . . . - 60
VI.—THE PARTY - . . 7 . - - 76
VII.—rHE END OF THE PARTY .- . . - - 90
VIIT.—sasePer . : : - . . . - 106
IN.—PLANS FORMED ‘ ® . . 7 - 120
X.—THE BLUEBERRY PARTY .- . 7 : - 134
ENGRAVINGS.
PAGE PACE
FRONTISPIECE. TIE SIGNAL . - o2
THE PARCEL . . A FORDING . . ’ 73
THE BOAT 7 . 12 | THE ROCKING BOAT . 8-l
THE RASPBERRIES . 26 | THE STORY-LELLING LOL
THE REYUGE . . 39 | CAROLINE AND TIGL Boys 121

SCLYING OFT . - 48 | Tre RELUSAL . , 1-42



SCENE OF THE STORY.
AMERICA.

Franconia, a place among the mountains at the North.
The time is summer.

PRINCIPAL PERSONS.

CaROLINE, the daughter of Mr. Keep, a lawyer in the village.

Mrs. Henry, a lady residing in a pleasant house on the bank
of the river, near the village.

MALLEVILLE, seven or eight years old, Mrs. Henry’s niece.

Puonny, nine or ten years old, Mrs. Henry’s son.

Bexrcunor, a French boy, so called, at service at Mrs. Henry’s.
His name properly is Antoine Bianchinette.

WaLxacek, a college student, Malleville’s brother, spending his
vacation at Mrs. Henry’s.

Livinesron, Wallace’s classmate, visiting at Franconia.

Mary Bex, about thirteen years old, a friend of Malleville,
residing at a little distance from Mrs. Henry’s.

ELven Linn, a friend of Mary Bell. She is the sister of Ro-
dolphus.



CAROLINE.

CHAPTER I.

THE PRESENTS.



Malleville and Phonny go out to take a walk. Rule of polite society.

ONE pleasant summer evening, about an hour before
sunset, Phonny and Malleville came out of the great gate
in front of Phonny’s house, to take a walk.

“ Let us go down to the river,” said Malleville.

There was a river very near Mrs. Henry’s house, and
a pleasant path leading down to it through a field.

<< No,’ said Phonny, “let us go along the road.”

“If we go down by the river,” said Malleville, “ we can
get: some flowers.’’

“And if we go by the road, we shall meet the stage
coming in,” said Phonny. ‘“ That’s a great deal better
than getting flowers.”

Malleville yielded. That was right. It was proper
that she should yield. The rule of polite society is, that
the gentleman ought always to be ready and willing, of
his own accord, to consult the wishes of the lady, in a
question of this sort, and to govern himself by them.
But when he forgets himself so far as to disregard the

B



2 CAROLINE.

Talk about Beechnut. Malleville’s mistake. Phonny greatly amused.

lady’s wishes, and. insist upon his own, then it is the duty
of the lady not to contend, but to submit readily and
gracefully to the necessity of the case. This, Malleville
did, in the present instance. She said no more about
the flowers, but walked with Phonny along the road.

“T wish that Beechnut would come home,” said Phonny.
“ Or rather I wish he never would go away at all.”

Beechnut had gone to the city of Boston, and was to
be absent about ten days. He had now been gone
about three days, and Phonny was very lonesome with-
out him.

“You will see the prettiest horse, when the stage
comes,” said Phonny, “ that there is in all this country.
{t is an off leader.”

Maleville made a very great mistake in understanding
this expression. She thought Phonny had said that the
horse was an awful eater.

“An awful eater!” she replied, gravely, “ what does
he eat? ”

Here Phonny burst into a loud and uncontrollable fit
of laughtet, while Malleville continued to look very grave,
and even somewhat perplexed and distressed. She did
not know what Phonny was laughing at. Phonny, how-
ever, could not control himself sufficiently to explain, but
lay down upon the grass by the roadside, and rolled over
and over, repeating, in the intervals of his paroxysm,

“ An awful eater |'—Oh dear me!”

“ Phonny!” said Malleville, very sternly, “you shal?
vot laugh so much. You must get up.”

At that moment, Malleville, looking along the road,
saw horses’ heads just coming into view at a turn, and
heard the sound of wheels, so she added,



THE PRESENTS. 3





The stage. Parcel for Phonny. Description of the package.







«“ And besides, here is the stage coming now, and you
will get run over.”

Hearing this, Phonny jumped up and sobered himself
in an instant. The stage-cpach was really coming.

It advanced very rapidly. Phonny and Malleville
stood out on one side of the road to let it go by. ‘There
was a lady and a small boy on the outside seat of the
stage, with the driver, and Phonny’s attention was at-
tracted by them, so that he forgot to point out the off
leader to Malleville, until the stage got opposite to him,
and then he was surprised at seeing the driver suddenly
rein up his horses and stop the stage.

“ Phonny,” said the driver, “is that you? I have got
something for you here.”

“For me?” said Phonny, surprised.

The driver put his hand under the seat and drew out
a small package, whieh was tied up very securely in
brown paper. He threw the package out to the bank
where Phonny was standing.

“Tt is all paid,” said he.

Then he drove on.

Phonny ran to the place where the package had fallen,
and took it up- Malleville followed him.

“ Tet me see,” said she. “ Whatis it?”

The package was about eight inches long, four inches
wide, and, perhaps, two inches thick. It was enveloped in
thick wrapping-paper, and tied with a strong cord, which
was passed round the parcel in both directions. ‘The knot
of the cord was sealed with sealing-wax, and the cord itself
was secured to the paper by sealing-wax in two or three
other places besides. In fact, the whole appearance of

BZ



4 CAROLINE.



The address of the package.





the parcel seemed to indicate that it contained something
very valuable. It was addressed on the back, in a very
plain hand,

Miss Malleville Henry,
Care of Master Alphonso Henry,

Franconia.

On the left hand upper corner was written the word
Parp, with a black line drawn under it.







THE PARCEL



THE PRESENTS. 5

Opening it. The cord. No knife. The box. Beechnut’s note.



“Tt is for you, after all,” said Phonny, looking a little
disappointed.

“ Yes,” said Malleville, “ give it tome. I want to break
it open, and see what is inside.”

«“ Let me open it for you,” said Phonny. “I can open
it’ better.”

“No,” replied Malleville, « I want to open it myself,—
if you will only get the string off.”

So Malleville and Phonny sat down upon a large stone,
which lay by the side of the road, and proceeded to open
the parcel.

Phonny had no knife to cut the cord, and so he was
obliged to gnaw it off with his teeth. This took some
time. Phonny handed back the parcel to Malleville.

Malleville proceeded to remove the wrappers with
which the contents of the parcel were enveloped. After
a time, there came out a large and beautiful japanned
tin box. It was rounded at the end and edges, and it
had a large lid in one side. Malleville opened the lid, and
found the box full of other parcels, and immediately
under the lid, as they opened it, was a note addressed to
Malleville. Malleville opened the note, and Phonny
looked at the bottom of it for the signature.

“ Beechnut,”’ said he. “It is from Beechnut. Let me
read it to you, Malleville.”

“ Well,” said Malleville.

So Phonny took the note and read as follows :-—

“My DEAR MALLEVILLE :
“ T send you what I call an Excursion-box. It
i to take with you when you go on excursions. You



6 CAROLINE.



Ribbon. The rest of the note. The pocket-knife. Blades.

wrap up your cake, or your bread and butter, or what-
ever you have for your luncheon, in a paper, and put it in
your box when you go, and then, after ‘you have eaten
your luncheon, you use your box to put flowers, or mosses,
or berries in, when you come home. The most conveni-
ent way to carry it, is to hang it by the ribbon over your
shoulder. You put the ribbon through the rings.”

“But I have not got any ribbon,” said Malleville, in-
terrupting.

“ Every day,” continued Phonny, reading, “ when you
have done using your box, you must see that it is clean
and dry, before you put it away.’’

“Yes,” said Malleville, “I will.”

“Or else,” said Phonny, still reading from the note,

“it will grow rusty insjde. Please give Phonny his
BEECHNUY.”

parcel.

“ Where is it ?” said Phonny, eagerly. ‘“ Let me see.”

So saying, he teok out one of the parcels from the in-
side of the box, and found to his great joy that his name
was written on the back of it.

On opening this package, it was found to contain
something solid in the centre, with a smaller and thinner
parcel wrapped around it. The central portion proved
to be a pocket-knife. ‘The knife had a very smooth and
beautiful handle, and two very brilliant blades. One of
these blades was large, and the other small. They both
opened very easily. Phonny opened the large one first,
and then the small one. The blades were very highly



THE PRESENTS. 17.

Phonny’s note. The bandages, Phonny reads his note.

polished, and the point of the small blade was as sharp
as a needle. Phonny uttered several exclamations of
delight, and then shut the blades up again. In the mean
time, a note addressed to Phonny had dropped out, and
had fallen down upon the grass. Malleville picked it up
and held itin her hand. Phonny was not, however, yet
ready to read it. He wished first to open the small and
thin envelope which had been wrapped round the knife.

He found it contained a long and narrow linen rag, in
the form of a bandage, very’ neatly folded up, and also a
sheet of court-plaster. Phonny looked very much sur-
prised to see these things, and then opened his note to
get an explanation. He read as follows :—

“DEAR PHONNY,
“T send herewith a new knife for you, and also
a bandage and some court-plaster for your cut fingers.
For small cuts the court-plaster will do, but when you go
in to the bone, I would recommend holding your finger in
cold water awhile, and then doing it up with the bandage.
“ Yours, affectionately,
“ BEECHNUT.”

«P.S. You need not be afraid of this knife, for it is
very sharp, and so will make clean cuts, that will heal

very easily.”

‘¢ Nonsense,” said Phonny. “I don’t mean to cut my
fingers at all with the knife.”

There was still one more small parcel to open. Tt was
addressed to Malleville. Malleville opened it and found
a long blue ribbon inside. ‘The ribbon was pretty wide



8 CAROLINE.

Phonny and Malleville set out to go home. They meet Caroline.



and very strong, and Malleville knew at once that it was
intended for her box. So she wrapped it up again in
the paper and put it back in the box, saying, that she
meant to go home and show it to her aunt. She rose
from her seat, and taking her box under her arm, she
went into the road. Phonny followed her. He put his
court-plaster and bandage into his pocket, but he kept the
knife in his hands,—opening and shutting the blades, and
examining it carefully in every part, as he walked along.

“Tt is the very best knife I ever had,” said he.

Phonny and Maleville walked along toward the house,
very much pleased with their presents, and both im-
patient to show them to Mrs. Henry. Presently, Malle-
ville saw a girl coming into view in the road, at a con-
siderable distance before them.

“There comes somebody,” said she. “I wish it was
Mary Bell.”

“Tt is Mary Bell,” said Phonny, “I verily believe.”

“ No,” said Malleville, “it is Caroline Keep. I can
see the feather in her bonnet.”

Caroline had a very pretty blue bonnet, with a white
feather hanging over it gracefully, like a plume.

In a short time the three children came together.

“ Caroline,” said Phonny, “we have got some presents
from Beechnut ; come and see them.”

So the children walked out to the side of the road, and
sat down upon the green bank to look at the presents.

«“ Where is Beechnut ?” said Caroline.

“He has gone away,” said Phonny. “He has been
gone several days, and he is going to be gone nearly a
week longer.”

“ How sorry I am!” said Caroline.



THE PRESENTS. 9





Talk about the party. Mary Bell. Her mother sick.



“ Why ?” asked Phonny.

“ Because I was going to have a party,” replied Caro-
line, “and I wanted him to come.”

“Oh never mind,” said Phonny, “ you can have your
party without him.”

“But I want him to be there very much,” said Caro-
line. “He always makes us have such a good time. Be-
sides, I am afraid Mary Bell can’t come.”

“When was your party going to be ?” asked Malleville.

“<'To-morrow,” said Caroline.

Caroline then went on to explain, that she had been to
invite Mary Bell, but that Mrs. Bell was sick, and it was
doubtful whether Mary could come.

“Ts she very sick ?” said Malleville.

“No,” said Caroline, “ when I went there, she was sit~
ting up in a great easy chair. She said that Mary Bell
might come, but Mary came out with me afterward to the
door, when I came away, and told me that she did not
believe that she could come, for she did not think that
her mother would be well enough to be left alone.

“T have just been to your house, to invite you,’’ con-
tinued Caroline, “ but now that Beechnut is not at home,
and Mary Bell cannot come, I don’t know whether to
have any party or not.”

“ Yes,” said Phonny, “I would have it; Malleville and
¥ can come.”

In the mean time, while this conversation had been
going on, Phonny and Malleville had opened their pre-
sents, and were now ready to show them to Caroline.
Caroline looked at them with a great deal of interest.
She did not say much about the knife, except that it
looked like a very good one. She laughed at what was



10 CAROLINE.



Maneville likes her presents. More talk about the party.





written in the note about the court-plaster and the rag,
and about Phonny’s cutting his fingers, and said that it
sounded just like Beechnut.

When she came to look at Malleville’s excursion-box,
she examined it carefully inside and out, but she seemed
to be only moderately pleased with it.

“T presume it will be very convenient,” said she,—.
“but I think he might have sent you something prettier
than that. stone in it, might have been bought with the same
money, and how pretty it would have looked upon your
finger !”

Malleville held up her finger, and tried to tmagine
bow such a ring as Caroline described would have looked
upon it.

“No,” said Malleville, “I like my excursion-box a
great deal better than I should a ring.”

“Well,” said Caroline. “Every one has their own
taste, and I am very glad you are pleased.”

So saying, Caroline arose from her seat and began to
walk out toward the road, as if she were going on her

way.
“And what about the party, Caroline?” said Malle-

ville.
“Why, I think I shall put off my party till Beechnut
comes back,” said Caroline, “but still I wish that you and
Phonny would come and see me to-morrow.”
“Well,” said Phonny, “we will.”
“If Aunt Henry will let us,” said Malleville.
“ Oh, she will let us, I know,” said Phonny.
“ Yes,’ said Caroline, “ and come as early as you can.”
Here Caroline began to walk along the road in the



THE PRESENTS. ll



Phonny tries his knife by cutting a fishing-pole.



way that led to the village. Phonny and Malleville, on
the other hand, turned toward their own home, Malle-
ville singing as she went, from a song which Beechnut

had taught her, the lines,

“* Come as early as you can,
And stay till after tea.”’

On the way home Phonny went into a thicket by the
road-side to try his knife, by cutting a tall and slender
stem which he saw growing there, and which he thought
would make a good fishing-pole. Malleville waited for
him at the edge of the thicket. There were some wild
flowers growing there, and Malleville amused herself,
while waiting for Phonny, in gathering these flowers,
and she had a great mind to put them in her box. She
concluded, however, on reflection, that she would not put
anything into her box until she had first shown it to her
aunt Henry.

When Phonny had cut his pole, which he did very
easily, for his knife was very sharp, he brought it out
into the road, and after trimming off the branches and
the top, he began to walk along with Malleville as before.

The road in which Phonny and Matleville were walk-
ing Jed them at one point pretty near the river. When
the children arrived at this place, they looked out upon
the water and saw a boat there with two boys in it.
The boys appeared to be fishing. One of them hada
pole. The other was fishing with a line alone, which
he held somewhat conveniently, over the gunwale of
the boat.

The water was smooth and clear, and the evening
air was calm and still, so that the boat made a beautiful



12 CAROLINE.

Rodolphus. Pole wanted.

Two boys a fishing.

appearance as she
lay floating in the
stream. The form
of the boat itself, and.
also those of the boys-
were very plainly re-
flected in the glassy
surface of the water
below. Phonny could
even see the reflec-
tion of the fishing-
pole which one of
the boys held in the
air.

The boy who had
Serena 9 no pole looked up

from his fishing, and when he saw Phonny and Malle-
ville on the shore, he called out,

“ Halloa! Phonny.”
“ FWalloa! Dolphin,” said Phonny.
“ Who is that? ” said Malleville, in an under-tone to

Phonny.
“ Rodolphus Linn,” said Phonny.
“Ts that Rodolphus ?” said Malleville. “He used to

work at our house once.”
“ Yes,” said Phonny, “in haying time. Now he works

in the mill.”
‘“ Phonny,” said Rodolphus, calling again, “what is

that you have got?”
“A fishing-pole,” said Phonny. “TI have just cut it.”

“ Give it to me, and I will give you some pond-lilies,”
said Rodolphus.







THE PRESENTS. 13

~



Bargain for the fishing-pole. Six lilies. Malleville carries home her box.



“TI wish you would,’ said Malleville, speaking to
Phonny, “and then give me one of the pond-llies.”’

«“ Have you got any pond-lilies ? ” said Phonny, calling
to Rodolphus.

“ Yes,” said Rodolphus.

“ And how many will you give me?” asked Phonny.

“ Three,” said Rodolphus—“or six. I don’t care if I
give you six.”

Here Malleville clapped her hands.

« Well,” said Phonny, “come ashore and get the pole.”

So Phonny went down to the beach. 'The boys drew
in their fishing-lines, and pushed the boat toward the
shore. As soon as they were near enough, Phonny
reached out the pole and Rodolphus took itin. Imme-
diately afterward Rodolphus selected six pond-lilies,-and
threw them out to Phonny on the sand.

Phonny gave two of the pond-lilies to Malleville, and
Malleville was very much gratified at receiving them.
She was now more inclined than ever to open her box,
knowing how safely her lies could be stowed in it, by
putting the heads of the lilies in first, in the centre of the
box, and then coiling the stems around them. She,
however, concluded to persevere in her original design of
carrying home her box and showing it to her aunt in the
condition precisely in which she first received it. So she
walked home with Phonny, carrying her box in one hand,
and her lilies in the other. The flowers which she had
gathered herself, she now no longer prized since she had
obtained the lilies, and so she threw them away.



14 CAROLINE.



The knife and the excursion-box.

Proposed visit to Caroline.

a

CHAPTER II.

PHONNY’S LETTER.

Tue children were always very impatient to have Beech-
nut come home, whenever he went away, and on this oc-
casion it happened that Phonny brought him home two
days sooner than Beechnut intended to come. It is
curious also to observe, that Phonny caused Beechnut to
come home sooner than he had intended without himself
designing to produce any such effect. The event hap-
pened in the following singular manner.

The children obtained Mrs. Henry’s permission to go
and visit Caroline, according to the invitation which they
had received, and they set off together at’ two o’clock on
the afternoon of the appointed day, and walked along on
the road. toward the village, full of anticipations of plea-
sure. Phonny had his new knife in his pocket, and
Malleville had her excursion-box hanging from her neck
by its ribbon. The box had an excellent luncheon in-
side. When Malleville first proposed to put the luncheon
in, Mrs. Henry suggested to her that it was not quite in
accordance with the customs of polite society, to carry a
supply of food in going a visiting; but Maleville was so
desirous of putting her box at once to its destined use,
that Mrs. Henry waived her objection, and the luncheon

ras putin. It consisted of two apple turnovers and two

pieces of cheese.



PHONNY’S LETTER. 15







Description of Mr. Keep’s house. The summer-houses. The hail.



The house where Caroline lived was in the village. It
was a large and handsome house, with a beautiful yard
in front, containing trees and shrubbery, with gravel
walks, bordered with beds of flowers, winding among
them. On one side of the house there was a wing, which
contained Mr. Keep’s office; for Mr. Keep, Caroline’s
father, was a lawyer. There was a door of entrance to
this office in front, with a path leading to it from the
road, where there’was a small gate, by which Mr. Keep’s
clients were accustomed to come in. There was also a
passage leading to the office from the house.

The wing was on the north side of the house, and on
the south side there was a great gate, and a road-way
which led in to the barns and sheds behind. There was
also a large garden, with flowers and fruits growing in it
in great profusion, and two summer-houses covered with
vines. ‘These vines were, however, only for shade, as the
climate. was altogether too cold in Franconia for grapes to
ripen.

When Phonny and Malleville arrived at Mr. Keep’s,
Caroline amused them, for some time, in conducting
them about the yards and gardens, and then brought
them into the house. She took them first into what she
called the hall, which was a long room in the back part
of the house, very comfortably and. pleasantly furnished,
and used in the winter evenings as a family sitting-room.
It was in this hall that the children were accustomed to
play at blind man’s buff, and other similar games, at
Caroline’s parties. After looking about this hall for some
time, and seeing the books and playthings which were
stored im various desks and secretaries about the room,
the children went on, under Caroline’s guidance, to the



is CAROLINE.



The office. Plans for playing in the office. A school.

office. In going into the office, they passed through a
small passage-way, which lay between the hall and the
office, and which had a window in it, that looked out
upon a pleasant piazza behind the house.

“My father has gone away,’’ said Caroline, “and so
we will go and play in his office a little while.”

The children went into the office, and after looking
about in it for some time, Caroline went and took her
seat in a great arm-chair, which stood by a window at the
end of the room, saying :

“Now we will play lawyer. I will be the lawyer, and
you shall be my clients. You must come with some
business for me to do.”

This plan for play did not, however, succeed very
well. Neither Maleville nor Phonny knew how clients
were accustomed to act, or what they used to say when
they came in to see their lawyers. At last, Caroline pro-
posed that they should play school instead.

“TI will be the teacher,” said Caroline, “and you shall
be my two scholars.”

Caroline had a double reason, in fact, for proposing to
play school. She had found a very entertaining book on
the office-table, and wished to read it; and she con-
cluded that by setting Phonny and Malleville at their
studies they would be kept still a little while, and she
could sit In the great arm-chair and read undisturbed.

“ Now,” said Caroline, “ you are my scholars. I must
give you some names. Your name,” said she, pointing
to Phonny, “ is ”—

Flere Caroline hesitated, and seemed to be trying to
think of a name.

“ Bronk,” said she, at last, “ your name_ shall be

ronk.”



PHONNY’S LETTER. 17



Caroline’s instructions to her scholars. Phonny is to write a letter.





“That is not a good name,” said Phonny.

“Yes,” said Caroline, “ Bronk is a good name fora
bad boy. I am going to play that, you are a bad boy.”

“And your name,” added Caroline, turning to Malle-
ville, “ shall be—, let me see—~Eldoranda. Now re-
member.”

“Oh dear me!” said Malleville, with a sigh, “I can’t
remember such a long name,—nor speak it.”

“ But you won’t have to speak it,” said Caroline. “ No-
body has to speak their own name. All you have to do,
is, when I call you by that name to come. If I call you
Malleville, you need not pay any attention to it at all.”

“ Well,” said Malleville.

« And now, Bronk,” said Caroline, “ yow are to write,
and Eldoranda is to read. You are to write a composi-
tion.”

“Oh no,” said Phonny. “I don’t like to write a com-
position.”

“'Then it shall be a letter,” said Caroline. “ You shall
write a letter to Beechnut. We will play that your mo-
ther’s house took fire last night, and burned up, and that
you are writing to Beechnut to give an account of it, and
to tell him to come home. You must make up some way
for the house to take fire, while I am going to get a book
for Eldoranda.”

So Caroline brought a great chair up to a desk which
stood in a corner of the room, where she said her father
always wrote his letters. She put two great law books in
the chair, to make it higher for Phonny. She also gave
him a sheet of paper and a pen.

“ There,” said she, “that is where my father writes his

¢



18 CAROLINE.



Uncle Ben. Account of the safe. Phonny begins his work.



letters. When they are written he puts them on the safe,
and Uncle Ben carries them to the post-office.”

Uncle Ben, as Caroline called him, was an old man
who worked for Mr. Keep, and who was accustomed to
go to the post-office for him. Mr. Keep called him Ben-
jamin, and sometimes Mr. Short. His real name was
Benjamin Short. Caroline, however, and the children,
generally were accustomed to call him Uncle Ben.

“ Which is the safe?” said Phonny.

Caroline pointed toward the door, and there, by the
side of the door, was what appeared to be a sort of cup-
board, painted black, with bands and rivets of iron all
around it. There was nothing on the safe at the time
that Caroline showed it to Phonny, but she said that her
father was accustomed to put letters and parcels of all
kinds upon it, for Uncle Ben to carry away.

“Tt is all made of iron,” said Caroline.

So Phonny went to the safe and put his hand upon it.
It felt very solid and heavy, and was also very cold.

“ What is there in it?” asked Phonny.

“« Money,” said Caroline.

“My!” said Phonny. “I wish Z had a safe full of
money.”

“ Now, Eldoranda,” said Caroline, “we will go out into
the hall and find a book for you to read.”

So Caroline and Malleville went out into the hall,
while Phonny went back to his desk and mounted up on
the seat which Caroline had provided for him. Then
resting his elbows on the desk before him, and his chin
on his hands, he set himself at work contriving some in-
genious way for setting his mother’s house on fire.



PHONNY’S LETTER. 19



Caroline takes her place in the arm-chair. The clock. The minute hand.

In a short time Caroline and Malleville came back.
Malleville had three or four picture-books in her hand.
Caroline gave Malleville a seat upon a stool near one of
the front windows, and then. taking her own book from
the table, she went and established herself comfortably in
her great arm-chair. She found a stool, too, to put her
feet upon. When all was thus ready she said,

“ Now, children, you have got your work before you;
and you must work half an hour without speaking a word.
If you do not speak a word and do your lessons well, I
shall give you both an apple. Butif you play, then I
shall not give you any apple, nor let you have any
recess.”

So Caroline opened her book and began to read.

“ Ffow shall we know when the half-hour is out ?” said
Phonny.

“ besides, you can look at the clock.”

So saying Caroline pointed to a clock which hung
upon the wall by the side of the door which led from the
office into the house.

“Do you see the minute hand ?”

« Which is the minute hand?” said Malleville.

«The longest one,” said Caroline, “the one that points
wp. The minute hand is exactly up now, and that means
that it is three o’clock. When the minute hand points
down, then it will be half an hour. You can look up
from your studies now and then and see.”

After this the room was very still for some time.
Phonny seemed to be very busy with his writing, and
Malleville was absorbed in her books.

In about ten minutes, the attention of the school, both

ce 2



20 CAROLINE.

age

A visitor. Conversation with the client. Phonny is tired.



teacher and pupils, was suddenly attracted by a knock-
ing at the door. It sounded as if some one were knock-
ing on the door with a stick.

“ Come in,” said Caroline.

The door opened very slowly, and a man looked in.
He was dressed in a sort of cartman’s frock, and he had a
long whip in his hand. In fact it was with the handle of
this whip that he had knocked at the door.

« Ah,” said he, as he looked around the room and saw
that there were only children there. “The squire is
not in.”

“ No, sir,” said Caroline. “He is gone away. Could
I do the business do you think ?”

The man smiled and said, No——he was afraid not.

“ My father is coming home just before tea,” said Caro-
line.

“ Then I will come in again,” replied the man. So say-
ing he shut the door and withdrew.

“ Children,” said Caroline, “I am glad to see that you
behave so well when company comes in. It gives me a
great deal of satisfaction.”

As Caroline said this in a perfectly grave and sober
manner, Phonny and Malleville took it apparently in
serious earnest, and both resumed their studies.

In about twenty minutes Phonny laid down his pen and
drew a long sigh. Caroline looked up from her book.
She turned her eyes first to Phonny and then to the clock.
She pointed to the clock, then put her finger on her lips,
and resumed her reading. Phonny perceiving that ten
minutes of his time were still remaining, took up his pen
again, and soon afterwards resumed his writing.

At length the halfhour expired. The party were all,



PHONNY’S LETTER. 21



The time expires. Phonny begins to read his letter. Phonny’s letter.





however, very busy, and several minutes elapsed before
either of them spoke.

At length Caroline shut up her book, rose from her
chair, and said,

“Come, children, the school is done,——or at least it is
time for the recess.”

“Wait a minute,” said Phonny, “just till I sign my
name.”

“ Yes,” said Malleville, “and by that time I shall get
through this book; there are only four leaves more.”

So Malleville and Phonny continued their studies a
few minutes longer. Then Phonny wished to read his
letter aloud to Caroline. Caroline said that she should
be glad to hear it. She accordingly went to the desk.
Malieville came up too. Phonny read as follows:

“FRANCONIA, Wednesday Morning.

“ DEAR BEECHNUT,

“Tam now at Mr. Keep’s. I have got to write
to you about our house burning up last night. The
way it took fire was this. JI went up with Malleville
into the garret in the evening to get a piece of string
off my kite-twine. I unwound as much as I wanted,
and then, as I had not any knife or scissors, I burned
it off with the lamp. Then Malleville and I came down-
stairs.

“ By and by, when it was time for me to go to bed,
and I went up-stairs with Hepzibah, she smelled some-
thing burning. She opened a closet, and there she saw
sparks and embers dropping down from a place above,
where the fire had burned through. The garret was all
on fire. We ran down-stairs calling fire, and the men



22 CAROLINE.



Caroline is pleased with it. Phonny folds up his letter.



came, but they could not put it out. It burnt the house
all down and one of the barns.

“My half-hour is not quite out, and so I will tell you,
beside, that the men saved the other barn with wet
blankets. We want you to come home as soon as you
can.

“ Your affectionate friend,
“ AtpHONZO HENRY.”

When Phonny had finished reading the letter, he
looked up to Caroline with a smile. Caroline said that
it was a very good letter indeed.

“ And now, Bronk,” said Caroline, “ you may fold up
your letter and seal it, and put Beechnut’s name on the
outside, and then you may come out to play. Eldoranda
and I will go out now and get the playthings ready.”

So Phonny proceeded to fold and address his letter,
while Caroline and Malleville went away. Phonny liked
to fold and seal letters, for Beechnut had taught him to
do it, and he could do it well.

Caroline and Malleville went out through the hall into
the yard, and from the yard they went into the garden.
They met Mr. Short there wheeling away weeds in a
wheel-barrow. He was a small man, and bowed down
by age.

“Uncle Ben,” said Caroline, “TI have a great mind to
go and take a ride this afternoon, with Phonny and
Mateville.”

“ Yes,” said Mr. Short, “it is a very pleasant after-
noon.”

There was a horse in Mr. Keep’s barn that Caroline
had the privilege of using whenever she wished to take



PHONNY’S LETTER. 23
Caroline’s white horse. Talk with Mr. Short. Letter left on the table.

a ride. The horse was very gentle, and Caroline could
drive him. He was a large, white horse, and very strong,
though he would not go very fast.

“It is a very pleasant afternoon for a ride,” said Caro-
line, “ only there are some clouds in the sky. Perhaps
there will be a shower.”

So saying, Caroline pointed to the west, where there
was a gathering of clouds. The clouds were piled up in
round masses, white above and dark below.

“ Perhaps it will be pleasanter to walk,” said Caroline.
“TJ have been riding a great deal lately, and I am rather
tired. of riding.”

« Just as you please,” said Mr. Short.

“YT wish Phonny was here,” said Caroline, “and we
would ask him. Why does he not come?”

“T will go and call him,” said Malleville.

So saying, Malleville ran off toward the house, leaving
Caroline with Mr. Short in the garden.

Malleville went into the office, and on her arrival there
she found that Phonny had sealed his letter and ad-
dressed it, and was now waiting for the writing to dry.
Malleville told him that Caroline wanted to see him in
the garden about taking a ride. So Phonny rose from
his desk, and leaving his letter there, went out. Malle-
ville remained a moment to look at the letter.

Malleville could not read the writing on the back of
the letter, for Beechnut’s name being, when written out
in full, Antoine Bianchinette, was very hard to read.
The name Boston, too—the place where Beechnut was—
was written below, which made the superscription of the
letter still more complicated. Malleville looked at it all
for a minute or two with a very studious air, and. then said,



24 CAROLINE.



ee

Malleville’s difficulty. Caroline proposes to have some raspberries.



“TI suppose it means Beechnut, and now I will put it
on the safe.”

So saying, she took up the letter, carried it to the safe,
and deposited it there where Caroline said her father
always put his letters, when he had written them. Hav-
ing done this, Malleville ran off into the garden again, to
find Caroline and Phonny.

She found them walking along together, in a pleasant
path with apple-trees and pear-trees on either side, some
growing by themselves and some trained on trellises.
Malleville- walked along with them. Presently they came
to a little grass plat, with a summer-house beyond it.
The summer-house was almost enveloped in shrabbery.

Caroline led the children into the summer-house, and
there they all sat down upon a bench.

“T wish the apples and pears were ripe,” said Caroline,
“and then I would give you some.”

“Yes,” said Malleville, “and you promised us an.apple.”

“True,” said Caroline, “but they are not ripe yet.
There are plenty of raspberries, however, if you would

like some.”
Phonny and Malleville both said that they should

like some raspberries very much.

So Caroline led them back to where the old gardener
was at work.

“Uncle Ben,” said she, “I wish you would go mto the
house and bring me out alittle sugar and cream. We are
going to have some raspberries.”

«And Malleville,” continued Caroline, “ you may go
with him and bring us out a tm mug to put the rasp-
berries in when we are gathering them.”

So Malleville and Uncle Ben went away together, and



PHONNY’S LETTER. 25

The tin mug. The rustic table. Supports.



Caroline and Phonny proceeded to another part of the
garden, where the raspberry bushes were. This place was
in a remote part of the garden, round beyond a little grove,
formed by a nursery of young apple-trees. The place was
so secluded that Malleville, when she returned, could not
see, at first, where Caroline and Phonny had gone. So
she called them—very loud. Caroline answered, and
thus Malleville found out where they were.

Caroline directed the children not to eat any of the
raspberries which they gathered, but to put them all into
the tin mug. By pursuing this course, the mug began to
fill up very fast, for the raspberries were very large, and
the bushes were heavily laden with them. At last the
mug was full.

“ Now,” said Caroline, “ we will go to my stone table.”

So saying, she went out from among the rows of rasp-
berry bushes and entered a broad alley. Phonny and
Malleville followed. her. Caroline led the way along one
alley after another, until at length she came to a sort of
corner, where, under a little grove of lilac-bushes, there
was a seat, with a large flat stone before it, like a table.
The flat stone was supported at a convenient height to
serve the purpose of a table, by means of square blocks of
stone placed beneath it, one at each end. These stones
were more or less irregular in form, being all in the
natural state in which they had been found im the
pastures, though the upper surface of the table-stone was
very flat, and quite smooth.

The seat at this rustic place of entertainment was of
stone, as well as the table. It was a dark, smooth stone,
oblong in form, and somewhat convex on the upper side.



26 CAROLINE.



got

Preparations made by Uncle Ben. The raspberries and cream.

It made a very good seat,—or at least one sufficiently so
to answer the purpose intended.

The children, as they came up to this table, found that
there was a waiter there, with various articles and uten-
sils upon it, all covered neatly with a large napkin, which
Mr. Short had spread over them. Caroline took the nap-
kin off The children found, when the napkin was re-
moved, that there were upon the waiter, a cream-pitcher
full of cream, a sugar-bowl full of fine white sugar, three

saucers, and three spoons.
“Yes, Uncle Ben,” said Caroline. as she surveyed

these preparations, “it is all right.”
3 tC

= ;
Ah et

Pee ope)

~~ > sw,
od 8 OS



THE RASPBERRIES.



PHONNY’S LETTER. 27
The feast. Conversation. Plan for a walk.

This address to Uncle Ben, on the part of Caroline,
was of the nature of an apostrophe, for Mr. Short was
not within hearing at the time. He had brought the
waiter, and put it down upon Caroline’s table, and he had
then gone back to his work. Caroline immediately
began to pour out the raspberries into the saucers, after
which, the children covered them over with sugar, and
then poured on the cream. Then they proceeded to eat
their fruit very happily together.

The raspberries which the children had gathered were
enough for two saucers full apiece for each of the party,
and when they were all eaten Caroline rose to go.

«“ And what are you going to do with these things P”
said Phonny.

¢ Leave them here,” said Caroline. “ Uncle Ben will
take care of them. And now I think we will go and take
a watk instead of a ride.”

The children did not-answer. They would both have
preferred to take a ride, but they did not suppose that it
would be polite for them to say so.

*“ You see,” said Caroline, “if we take a ride, we must
go along the same old road, where we have all been a
thousand. times,—-but there is a very pretty place to walk
through the trees on the bank of the river, where I have
never been but once, and I want to go again.”

“Well,” said Malleville, “I will go and get my excur-
sion-box.”

So Malleville returned to the house to get her box. She
had left it on the piazza. Phonny got his cap, too, and
Caroline her bonnet. They did not go into the office
again, and Phonny forgot all about his letter. Of course,
if he had thought of it, he would have supposed that it



28 CAROLINE.





The excursion-box. The winding path. Mr. Keep’s letters.

remained safe on the desk where he had left it. He did
not know that Malleville had put it in another place.

When they were all ready, Caroline went into the par-
jour to tell her mother that she was going to take a walk
with Phonny and Malleville, and that she should be back
again at supper time. Then bidding her mother good-
bye, she came out again into the yard, where Phonny and
Malleville were waiting for her. Malleville had her ex-
cursion-box hanging about her neck by its ribbon.

Caroline led the way back into the garden again, and
through the garden to the lower end of it, where there
was a small gate. She opened the gate and let Phonny
and Malleville pass through, and then entered with them
upon a winding path which led down into a wood. What
happened during their walk will be made the subject of
the next chapter.

In the mean time, about an hour after the children
had set out on their walk, Mr. Keep came home. He
hung up his hat in its usual place in the passage-way,
and then went into his office. He found upon the table
several letters which Mr. Short had brought that day
from the post-office. He opened and read them, and then
went to his desk to answer them. He wrote four answers
to his letters,—on four separate sheets of paper. When
these letters were all written, Mr. Keep folded and sealed
them, and put stamps upon them, and then went to put
them on the safe to be ready for Mr. Short to carry to the
post-office.

As he laid his letters on the safe, he observed the one
which Malleville had put there, and taking it up he
looked at the superscription.

“ Ah,” said he, “this looks like Phonny’s work. He



PHONNY’S LETTER. 29



Phonny’s letter gets sent to the post-office.

has been here this afternoon, I suppose, and has been
writing to Antoine.”

So Mr. Keep went back to the table and brought
another stamp, and put it on the corner of Phonny’s
letter.

About half an hour after this, Mr. Short came into the
room, and taking up the letters that were lying on the
safe, he carried them all to the post-office.



30 CAROLINE.

‘The path leading into the woods. The waterfall.

CHAPTER TIL
THE WALK.

WHEN Caroline and the two children passed out from
the garden through the little gate to commence their walk,
Malleville ran on before the rest down the path. This
path led into a thicket, and thence down into a wooded
dell, at the bottom of which Malleville thought she saw
a brook and a little waterfall. So she ran forward to
view the waterfall. Phonny ran after her; Caroline fol-
lowed more slowly. She had seen the place a great many
times.

When Malleville reached the bottom of the descent,
she found quite a brook running across the path, with a
broad plank placed over it on one side, for a bridge.
Above the bridge was the waterfall. The water fell
about three feet down the face of a rock, between two
banks of beautiful green moss.

Malleville stood upon the plank a few minutes to look
at the waterfall, When Caroline came to the spot
Malleville said to her,

“ What makes the water run here so all the time ? ”

“ Why there is a brook,’ said Caroline, “that comes
down here from the hills.”

“ And where does it come from ?” asked Malleville.

“It comes out of the sky, I suppose,” said Caroline.

Caroline meant that the water came from the sky.



THE WALK. 31



Talk about the brook. A fox! a fox! Phonny’s disappointment.

Malleville stood still a moment and pictured in her
imagination a small stream like that from the nose of a
pump, coming down out of the sky on the top of a hill
to form the beginning of the brook.

At length she turned round upon the plank and looked
down the stream.

«“ And where does the water go to? ” said she.

“Why this brook,’’ said Caroline, “runs down into the
mill-pond. This path will bring us to the shore of the
mill-pond in a little while.”

So Caroline walked on, Malleville and Phonny ac-
companying her. ‘The path ascended beyond the brook,
winding along in a very pleasant manner among rocks
and trees.

At length, after walking along for some little distance,
Malleville saw something before her in the path which
looked like a wild animal.

“Why Phonny,” exclaimed Caroline, “ look there.
What is that? ”

“A fox! a fox!” cried Phonny, very much excited.
“ Hush! Caroline! see! there’s a fox!”

“No, it is not,” he added immediately afterward in a
disappointed tone. “It is nothing but a dog.”

The dog looked up a moment at the party of strangers
which he saw coming toward him—standing still while
he did so,in the middle of the path—-and then turned
and ran away. The children followed him. The dog
soon came to a fence, and creeping under the fence,
came out into a road.

“ Why here is a road,” said Malleville.

“Yes,” said Caroline, “we are going along that road a



o2 CAROLINE.



Description of the shore. The boys in the boat.





little way, and then we are going off into the woods
again.”

The road led along the bank of what seemed to be a
river. Caroline said, however, that it was not a river, but
a mill-pond. The water was very smooth and still, and
appeared to be very deep. The shores on the opposite
side of the pond were formed. of precipices of rock and of
wild and solitary forests, and there were one or two small
islands in view, which appeared like thick masses of
tangled trees and shrubbery growing out of the water.

«What a pretty mill-pond,” said Malleville.

“Yes,” said Caroline, “and after we go on by this
road a little farther, we shall find a path that leads along
the shore in a very pleasant place indeed.”

The road which the children were walking in, passed
at this point very near the water. There was only a
small bank and a narrow beach between.

The dog ran along before the children in the road a
short distance, and then went down the bank to the
beach, and there looked off upon the water, in a very
earnest manner. Presently he began to whine, and then
he barked. A moment afterward the children heard the
sound of a shrill whistle coming from behind the nearest
island. Next they heard voices in that direction, and
soon afterward a boat appeared with three boys in it.
One of the boys began to call to the dog.

The dog ran this way and that, stopping occasionally
to look earnestly out upon the water, and whining all the
time, as if very anxious to get to the boat.

*““T suppose that is Rodolphus in that boat,” said Malle-
ville.



THE WALK. 33
The boat lands. The children pass over a wall. The walk.

“ No,” said Phonny, “ Rodolphus is not there.”

The children remained standing upon the bank a few
minutes, looking sometimes at the dog upon the shore
before them, and sometimes at the boat and the boys on
the water, to see what the boys would do. The boat
gradually approached the shore. When they came near,
the boys called to the dog continually, endeavouring to
induce him to swim out to them through the water. But
the dog was not a water dog, and did not dare to come.

At last the boat touched the land. Then one of the
boys jumped out upon the beach, and taking up the dog
under his arm, he stepped back into the boat again. The
dog was of a lhght brown colour, and he had a long
bushy tail, so that it is not at all surprising that Phonny
at first mistook him for a fox.

As soon as the boys had got the dog in the boat, they
rowed away from the shore again, and then Caroline
said,

“Come! Now we will go on.”

So the party walked along the road together. In a
short time the road turned off from the shore, and then
Caroline led the way to a place where one or two stones
had been taken out from the top of the stone wall, so as
to make it easy to get over.

“Here is where we are to go,” said she.

So she climbed over the wall, and then helped Malle-
ville and Phonny over. Beyond the wall there was a
path. It led through and among tangled thickets of
bushes and trees, but still, as the path itself, though very
tortuous, was continuous and unimpeded, the children
got along in it very well. The land, so far as they could
see through the woods and thickets, rose very steep on

D



34 CAROLINE.



The dog in the boat. Romantic pathway. Rocks and precipices.



the right, while it descended on the left, toward the mill-
pond. In fact, the children could often see the surface
of the water in that direction, through the openings of
the trees.

The hill on the right hand appeared to grow steeper and
steeper, as the children went on, until finally it became a
mass of rocks and precipices, shaded and overhung every-
where with dense thickets of evergreen trees. The path
came out too nearer the shore of the pond, so that for
some distance the children, as they walked along, had an
unobstructed. view of the water. They saw the boat
with the boys in it coasting along the rocky shore be-
neath them. The dog was standing in the bow of the
boat, with his feet upon one of the thwarts, and look-
ing eagerly about in every direction, as if enjoying the
scenery.

“T wish we were in that boat,” said Phonny.

“Oh no,” said Maleville, “I should not dare to go
in it.”

The boat, though it was going in the same direction
with the children, soon disappeared behind a point of
land which projected into the pond at a short distance
before them. Caroline and her party accordingly went
on. They found the path more and more picturesque
and romantic as they proceeded. ‘There were great
precipices here and there, with beautiful flowers growing
in the interstices of the rocks, and tall firs and pines over-
hanging them from above. At intervals too there were
deep glens and ravines extending back among the preci-
pices, in each of which a little rill of water came gurgling
down among the moss and the roots at the bottom of the
dell. There were a great many rocks lying here and



THE WALK. 35



Climbing places. The tall ferns.

there, and shelving projections from the precipices,
formed with broken stratifications at the sides of them,
by means of which it was easy to climb up, and with flat
surfaces at the top, where it was easy to stand. The
children ascended a great many of these elevations,
partly for the sake of the new views which they thus ob-
tained of the surrounding scenery, and partly because it
was a pleasure in itself to be up so high.

All this scenery seemed to the children extremely grand
and sublime, much more so even than it would have ap-
peared to grown persons, if grown persons had been there.
For as we necessarily and instinctively compare the mag-
nitude of objects around us with our own size, it follows
that a tree or a rock that is fifty feet high, appears to a
child who is three feet high, as tall and large as one of a
hundred feet would to a man of six. Soa shelving-rock
as high as a man’s head, appears to aman who passes by
it as nothing extraordinary. It is only a leaning wall,—
one which he looks down upon. The child, on the other
hand, creeps under it, and ldoks wp with a species of awe
to what is to him a dangerous precipice. In the same
manner, if there were such a being as a giant as tall as a
mountain, the mountain would, of course, appear to him
only as a little hillock as high as his head.

Thus it happened that in this walk the trees, and
rocks, and precipices, and glens, imposing as they would
have appeared to any one, presented to the children, and
especially to Malleville, an aspect in the highest degree
grand and sublime.

In many places the path passed through beds of fern
or of tall grass, which brushed the dresses of the children
as they passed along, but this did no harm, as the grass

py 2



36 CAROLINE.



Dew. Caroline’s opinion. Low places. The cart-path. The cove.

and herbage were all perfectly dry. When going through
some of these places, Caroline said that it would be very
pleasant to come and take that walk some morning at
sunrise, if it were not for the dew.

“Tt would not be possible for us to come along here,”
she said, “in the morning, or after a shower. Malleville
would get wet through, up to her shoulders.”

This was really true, for the ferns in one place which
she had to go through, were so high that the topmost
fronds brushed Malleville’s shoulders as she walked along
between them,—-so rank and tall had they grown. Of
course, these ferns appeared. as tall to Malleville as they
would have seemed to a man if they had been as high as
corn in a corn-field.

There were some spots of low ground, too, in many
places which the children had to pass. It was evident
that these were places where water would usually stand
in wet weather and after rains, but they were all pretty
dry now, and the children got over them without any
difficulty.

At last the children arrived at a sort of cart-path
which came down through the woods in a little valley,
and led to the shore of a pond at a place where there ap-
peared to be a sort of landing. ‘There was a cove here,
that is, a little mdentation in the shore forming a bay.
Some logs, such as are cut in the woods to be sawn into
boards, were floating m the cove. The children crossed
this cart-path, and ascending a little beyond it, they came
to a place among the rocks where there was a smooth
wall on one side and an overhanging precipice behind,
which formed a sort of roof. Maleville immediately ran
to this place, saying that it was a house. There were



THE WALK. 37



A, grotto. Overhanging rock. The boat again.



some flat stones on the ground under the overhanging
rock. Malleville sat down upon one of them, and Caro-
line and Phonny following her to the place, sat down too.

‘‘ There is the boat again,” said Malleville, pointing out
upon the water. “They are coming im toward the
shore.”

Caroline and Phonny both looked in the direction
that Malleville indicated, and there they saw the boat
coming rapidly toward the shore. The boat was pomted
toward. the little landing where the cart-path terminated
on the shore of the water.

“ J wonder what they are going to do?” said Phonny.

* We will see,” said Caroline.

When the boat came to the shore the boys stepped out
upon the sand. The dog jumped out too. The boys, as
soon as they saw Caroline and. her party sitting under the
rocks, paused a moment and looked toward them, saying
something to themselves which the children could not
hear. A moment afterward they turned to the boat again
and began to draw it up upon the sand.

Phonny and Malleville were much interested in watch-
ing the operation by which the boys drew the boat out of
the water. One of them took the rope which was
fastened to the bows of the boat, and passing it over his
shoulder he walked forward, tugging away with all his
might. The other boys stood at the sides of the boat,
and taking hold of the cleats within, which passed along
just under the gunwale, lifted and carried, and thus they
moved the boat along.

When they had got it well up out of the water they all
three took hold of the side of the boat and turned it
over. The boat was light, and the work of turning it



38 CAROLINE.
The boys pull the boat up upon the land. Their warning.

over seemed to be very easily performed. When the boat
was thus turned upside down, one of the boys tied the
painter, that is, the rope fastened at the bows of the boat,
to a stake which was driven into the ground near by.

The boys went through all these operations in a hur-
ried manner, as if they were eager to get away, and as
soon as the boat was secured in the mode above described,
they all set off walking very rapidly up the cart-path into
the woods. The dog ran on before them. One of the
boys turned toward Caroline and her party as he went
along, and aftex hesitating a moment he called out to
them, saying,

“Tf you don’t look out you will get a wetting.”

He then went on, and in a moment more they all dis-
appeared.

“ What does he mean?” said Phonny.

“Tam sure I don’t know,” said. Caroline.

“Perhaps he means that it is going to rain,” suggested
Matleville.

Caroline looked wp to the sky. It happened, however,
that at the place where the children were sitting, but a
very small part of the sky could be seen. The part
which was visible was toward the east, which was the di-
rection in which the faces of the children were turned as
they sat in their grotto. The west was behind them, and
the whole sky in that direction was concealed by the
rocks and precipices, and by the lofty firs and pines which
overhung the place where the children were sitting.

There were no clouds to be seen in that part of the
sky which was open to their view. Caroline, however,
stepped out from under the rocks and looked upward
into the zenith. She saw a fringe of dark and angry-



THE WALK. 39



A shower comme. it thunders.





looking clouds slowly advancing to the western part of
the sky.



ANS. ay
NS A
‘a ‘

CQ

AN
ARN

TR
CSN Y

NX



THE REFUGE

“YJ am afraid there is going to be a shower,” said
she.

“ Never mind,” said Phonny, “if there should be, we
have a good house to stay in until it is over.”

“ Yes,” said Malleville.

Just then there was heard along, low, rambling sound
as of distant thunder.

“Tt thunders,” said Malleville, much alarmed. “ There
is going to be a thunder-shower I verily believe. Let us
run home as fast as we can.”



40 CAROLINE.

Drops falling. Breezes. The lightning.





“ No,” said Caroline, “we should not have time to get
home; it is more than a mile. We must stay here till
the shower is over.”

So saying she held out her hand and felt some drops
fall wpon it.

“Ft is beginning now,’ said she.

She had scarcely spoken these words before they all
heard a sudden pattering of drops upon the trees of the
forest above and around them, and immediately after-
ward a gust of wind began to blow, exhibiting its effects,
first in the sudden waving of the branches of the trees all
about the place where the children were sitting, and then
by the ruffling and darkening of the surface of the pond,
as the breezes, coming down from the hills, went scud-
ding over the water.

“There is going to be a shower,’ said Caroline, “I
truly believe. But we have got a good shelter, and we
will stay in it till it is over.”

« And what shall we do then ?” said Malleville. “It
will be so wet everywhere that we cannot get home.”

“T don’t know what we shall do,” said Caroline, “we
will see.”

In the mean time the rain fell faster and faster, and the
distant peals of thunder became more frequent. At length
a flash of Lghtning was seen, and soon afterward a loud
crash was heard in the sky, at a little distance behind
where the children were sitting. Phonny said that he
expected it struck something.

“ Well,” said Caroline, “ if it did, it can’t strike us very
well, under all these rocks, that is a comfort.”

The lightning came much nearer to siriking them,
however, than they had imagined that it would. For



THE WALK. 4]







The lightning strikes a great pine-tree. Children terrified,



only a few minutes after Caroline had spoken, an enorm-
ous pine, which grew on the summit of the precipice,
only a very little distance from the place where the chil-
dren had sought refuge, became the mark which the
thunderbolt chose for its aim in coming from the clouds
to the ground. The tree was split through at the trunk,
near the ground, and the top fell over the precipice to the
shore below. It came down very near to the place where
the children were sitting. The crash with which it fell
would have been dreadful, had it not been that the sound
of it was drowned by the loud rattling of the thunder,
which continued to roll and reverberate in every part of
the sky, long after the tree was still.

The children were all very much frightened at this catas-
trophe. Malleville and Phonny screamed aloud with
terror, and were going to jump up and run away from
their shelter, though the rain, which had been descend-
ing in torrents for some time, now poured down faster
than ever.

«Sit still,” said Caroline, “this is the safest place
for us.”

“No,” said Malleville, all excited and trembling, “let
us go away from here. The lightning will strike us if we
stay here.”

* No, it won't,” said Caroline. “Sit still, the lightning
cannot strike through all these rocks.”

«“ Well, then, the trees will fall down upon our heads,”
said Malleville.

“ Not if we stay here,” said Carolme. “ They may if
we go out. It is better to stay here.”

Phonny and Malleville submitted to this decision,
though it was with fear and trembling. Caroline talked



42 CAROLINE.
Caroline’s composure. Black cloud. The chain-lightning.

with them continually, to amuse their minds and to allay
their fears. She soon told them that the violence of the
storm was passed, and this proved really to be the case;
for the cloud from which the thunder and lightning, and
the wind and rain, proceeded, was now passing away to-
ward the eastward, over the water of the pond. In a
short time, the rain fell in such quantities from the clouds
over the pond that the opposite shores were wholly hid-
den. At this period, too, the great cloud itself, in all its
blackness and terror, was fulty exhibited. to their view, as
it lay expanding itself over the whole eastern sky. The
children could see also chains of forked lightning darting
to and fro upon the face of the cloud, from time to time,
each one followed at brief intervals with a rolling peal of
thunder.

“The shower is passing away,” said Caroline.

“ No,” said Malleville, ‘I think the lightning is grow-
ing brighter and brighter.”

“That is only because we can see the cloud plainer
now,” said Caroline. “It does not rain so fast, and the
thunder does not sound so loud. Besides, it begins to
look brighter over our heads.”

Phonny and Malleville reached their heads out from
under the shelter of the rocks as far as they dared, to see
the sky; but the drops came down so fast from the leaves
of the trees above them, that they could notsee. So they
came back again into their retreat.

* But I don’t see how we are to get home,” said Phonny,
despondingly.

“ Nor I,” said Caroline.

“ Perhaps somebody will come after us,” said Phonny.

“ Nobody knows where we are,” said Caroline.



THE WALK. 43

Perplexity about getting home. Plan of going home in the boat.





“ We can’t walk home the way we came,” said Phonny,
“the grass and bushes will be so wet.’

“'That is true,” said Caroline.

“ And besides,” continued Phonny, “ there will be ever
so many pools of water in all the low places, and Malle-
ville can never get over them.”

*T know it,” said Caroline, “and I am sure I don’t
know what we shall do.”

“ 1 suppose that that cart-path might be more open,—
where the boys went,”—said Phonny, after a little re-
flection. “ Perhaps we could get along in that.”

“We don’t know,” said Caroline. “It might be, and
it might not be. Besides, we don’t know where it goes
to. It might take us farther away from home than we
are now.”

‘‘ Let’s go in the boat!” said Phonny, in a joyful tone,
as if struck with a sudden and happy thought.

“ Well,” said Caroline, “that’s a plan.”

“If we can only get it turned over,” said Phonny. “I
don’t see what they turned it bottom upward for.”

“'That was to keep it from getting full of water, I sup-
pose,” said Caroline, “in the shower. It is better for us
that they did,—that is, provided we can get it back again,
for now it is all dry inside.”

“ Let us go down and try,” said Phonny.

“Not yet,’ said Caroline. “It has not yet done
raining.”

Drops were indeed still falling, though many of them,
as Phonny said, came from the leaves of the trees. Still
the rain had not yet wholly ceased. The sky, however,
began to look very bright overhead, and soon a broad
and beautiful rainbow began to appear on the clouds



44 CAROLINE.



The children go down to the boat.



that lay in the eastern sky. Not long after this the sun
broke forth, and the rain was obviously over. The
children then all came out of their retreat, following
Caroline, who took the lead of them, and stepping care-
fully on stones to avoid the wet grass, they went down
toward the boat.



A VOYAGE. 45



Plans for turning up the boat. Fruitless efforts.

CHAPTER IV.
A VOYAGE.

THE whole party, through the judgment and skill
which Caroline exercised in choosing the way, succeeded
in reaching the boat without getting wet. When they
arrived at the spot, however, they stood by the side of the
boat, and looked down upon it with something of a de-
spairing air. It looked very heavy.

“ We never can lift it in the world,” said Caroline.

“‘ Let us try,” said Phonny.

So they all took hold of the side of the boat, stooping
down low for this purpose. At the word of command
from Caroline, they all began to lift. The boat moved a
little m its place, but did not rise in the least from the sand.

“ No,” said Caroline.

“ Let us try once more,” said Phonny.

So they tried again, but their efforts were as fruitless as
before.

“No,” said Phonny, “we can’t lift it; and besides, it
would not do any good if we could turn it over, for we
cannot go home in it.”

“ No,” said Caroline, “but we can get out of this
wilderness in it. The mill-pond goes to the mill, and if
we can get there, we can get home by the road.”

“ Yes,” said Phonny, “so we could. I wish the boat
was not so heavy.”



46 CAROLINE.



enema ae

The children get a pry. They succeed in turning over the boat.





een

“Could not we pry it over ? ” said Caroline.

“Yes,” said Phonny, “if we only had a pry.”

As Phonny said this, Carole put her hand under the
boat at the end, and took hold of the handle of an oar.
She pulled the oar out, saying,

“This oar will do for a pry.”

Caroline presently pulled out another oar. The chil-
dren immediately began to use these oars for pries.
Phonny took one and Caroline the other. They had
considerable difficulty at first In getting the oars under
the edge of the boat, in such a way as to get. them, as
Phonny expressed it, “to take a hold.” They, however,
at length succeeded, and the side of the boat began
slowly to rise. As fast as they got the edge of the boat
up Malleville would keep it up by putting stones under.

By patient perseverance in this course,—both Phonny
and Caroline stopping occasionally in their prying to help
Malleville in the blocking up,—the children succeeded at
length in raising the edge of the boat that was farthest
from the water, nearly a foot from the ground.

“Now,” said Phonny, “I believe we can heave it over
with our hands.”

So they all took hold again with their hands. They
succeeded in lifting it, and by one vigorous effort they
raised it up so high that it rolled over and came right
side up, all ready to be launched into the water.

The launching was not very difficult, for the boat, in
the process of being turned over, was rolled out so far
that about half the length of it was already in the water.
Phonny untied the painter, and they all took hold of the
bow of the boat and pushed it mto the cove. There was
a log upon the shore near by, which formed a sort of



A VOYAGE. 47
Differences between a paddle and an oar.

wharf or pier, from which the passengers for this in-
tended voyage could embark. Phonny drew up the boat
alongside of this log, and Malleville and Caroline, walk-
ing out upon it a little way, at length safely stepped on
board.

«“ Now,” said Phonny, “I 7U push off.”

“ Not yet,’ said Caroline. “ Let us see how we had
better sit.”

After some debate, it was concluded that as there were
two oars and a paddle belonging to the boat, it would be
best for Malleville and) Phonny to row, and for Caroline
to paddle and steer. There is a great difference between
a paddle and an oar, both in form and in the manner of
using them. A paddle is short, and the blade is broad,
and it is generally used by a person sitting in the stern
of the boat, and looking the way the boat is gomg. An
oar, on the other hand, is long. It rests, when employed
in rowing, upon the side of the boat, in what is called the
row lock, or between the thole pins, and the person who
rows with it sits with his back to the bow or forward part
of the boat, so that he has to turn partly round and look
over his shoulder when he wishes to see where he is go-
ing. When, however, there is a person to sit in the stern
to steer, it is not necessary for the oarsman to look round
in this manner, for the helmsman at the stern with the
paddle, keeps a good lookout ahead, and steers the boat
where it ought to go.

There is a great difference, too, between oars and pad-
dies in respect to the circumstances in which they can
be most conveniently employed. A boat can be pro-
pelled faster with oars than with paddles, though as the
former extend laterally so far, they require a considerable



48 CAROLINE.

Advantages of oars—of paddles. Malleville’s rowing.

breadth of water in order to be advantageously used.
For narrow and tortuous channels, paddles are much the
most convenient. Indians use paddles, therefore, on rivers
and small streams, while the boats of great merchant ships
and men-of-war in broad harbours or at sea are always
propelled by oars.

Both Caroline and Phonny had often been in boats be-
fore, though they had had but very little experience in the
practical management of them. Malleville, of course,
knew nothing at all on the subject. She took her seat
where Caroline directed her, and put her hands upon
the handle of the oar, and when Phonny, who had also
taken his place upon one of the thwarts with an oar

























aN
SETTING OFF





A VOYAGE. 49

oo = aa)

The children set offin the boat. Slow progress. Malleville’s observations.



in his hands, began to row, she attempted to imitate his
motions, but she was very unsuccessful in these attempts.
The blade of her oar would always go up in the air,
when she attempted to put it down into the water, and
when it was down in the water it would stay in, notwith-
standing all her efforts to get it out. In fine, it soon
appeared that Malleville’s oar only impeded the motion
of the boat, and so Caroline directed her to take it in.
Malleville was very unwilling to do this, but she finally
consented ; and so Phonny took in her oar and laid it
down into the bottom of the boat.

Of course, a boat propelled by one oar and one paddle
must make very slow and very uncertain progress, and
Caroline soon. began to feel much discouraged. She said
she did not believe that they should ever be able to get
to the mill. In fact, in getting out from the cove and
away from the shore, the boat seemed determined to
go round and round, without going forward at all.
Very soon, however, both Phonny and Caroline learned
better how to manage their respective implements, and
they soon began to move along in quite a scientific
manner.

“We had better keep pretty near the shore,” said
Caroline, “ all the way.”

“ Yes,” said Phonny, “ I think so too.”

«“ Where the water is not very deep,” said Caroline.

«“ Yes,” said Phonny.

“It is pretty deep here,’ said Malleville. So saying,
Malleville leaned over the gunwale of the boat, where
her oar had rested while she had been rowing, and looked
down into the water.

“T can see a great rock on the bottom,” said she ;—

BB



50 CAROLINE.

Great rock. The snake! Disagreement. Slow and toilsome progress.



“and now it is all sand—and there is a fish,—he is run-
ning away,—now he is out of sight.”

“That ’s right,” said Phonny, “keep a good look-out
down in the water, and let us know what you see.”

Malleville expressed her willingness to comply with
this request, and was proceeding to describe to Phonny
what she saw upon the bottom of the pond, when she
suddenly exclaimed, in a tone of great astonishment :

“Oh Phonny! here is a great snake on the bottom, all
twisting and curling.”

“ Where ?” said Phonny, eagerly, “let me see.” So
Phonny stopped rowing, and looked over Malleville’s side
of the boat, to the place where Malleville pointed.

“See!” said Malleville, “see there.”

“ Nonsense,” said Phonny, “it is nothing but an old
root.” By this time the boat had got by the place, so Phonny
resumed his position, and went on with his rowing.

“No, Phonny,” said Malleville, “it could not be a root,
for I saw it twisting and squirming.”

The waving motion which Malleville had observed was
only an apparent motion, produced by the rippling of
the water.

Phonny insisted that it was a root, and spoke, moreover,
so contemptuously of the idea that it could be anything
else, that Malleville was offended, and would not tell him
of anything more that she saw.

The mill-pond on which our party were making their
slow and toilsome voyage, was quite large, being more
than a mile long, and in many places from half to threc
fourths of a mile wide. The cove where the children
had embarked was very nearly a mile from the mill.
After going along in the manner we have described for



A VOYAGE. 51



Caroline proposes to land. Malleville’s provisions, Seats on the stones.

about one-third of this distance, the boat came opposite to
one of the islands which have been already spoken of. By
this time both Phonny and Caroline had become some-
what tired of their work. The shore of the little island
looked very inviting, and the idea suddenly occurred to
Caroline that it might be a good plan to land there as
they went by and take a little rest.

So she drew her paddle in, and laying it down by her
side in the boat, she took out her watch. It was a very
beautiful little watch, in gold and enamel.

“ Half-past five o’clock,” said she. “We shall not get
home in time for supper. Malleville, have not you got
something for us to eat in your box?”

“ Yes,” said Malleville, “I have got two turnovers.
There is just one for you and one for Phonny and I.”

On hearing this Caroline at once decided to land upon
the island and have supper. She accordingly with her
paddle turned the head of the boat toward the shore and
soon ran it upon the strand.

The two children got out first, and then Caroline fol-
lowed. She called upon Phonny to tie the painter in
the most secure manner possible, since it would be an
awful thing for the boat to float away and Jeave them
on that uninhabited island. When Phonny had fastened
the boat according to Caréline’s directions, she led her
party up on the shore, and found a seat for them upon
some smooth stones which were lying there. They
could not go upon the grass, for the grass was everywhere
wet from the effects of the shower.

The sun shone in upon them where they sat, from
among a magnificent group of golden clouds that were
now floating in the western sky. The sun was still quite

BE 2



52 CAROLINE.

Caroline’s drollery. Eating supper. Plays.

—

high, though it was drawing toward the horizon. The even-
ing was delightful. The grass and the trees were every-
where glittering with the drops of rain which hung upon
them, and the surface of the water was resplendent with
the reflected magnificence of the sky.

But besides the beauty of the evening and of the scenery,
the children enjoyed another very prolific source of plea-
sure while they were eating their supper, in the lively
and amusing conversation with which Caroline enter-
tained them all the time. She was perfectly grave and
sober herself in all that she said, but she made Malleville
and Phonny laugh continually by the drollery of her
remarks, and the singularity and oddity of her im-
aginings. At one time she would pretend that they
were shipwrecked mariners, cast away upon a desolate
island. She was the captain of the vessel, and Phonny
and Malleville her
sailors, while the boat
represented their ship
driven up by the storm
high and dry upon the
shore. At another time
she herself was Robin-
son Crusoe, on the is-
land of Juan Fernan-
dez, Phonny being
her man Friday, and
Maleville the goat;
and while acting in
this capacity she sent
Phonny at one time to
set up an oar upon the



TOE SIGNAL



A VOYAGE. 53

Phonny’s flag-staff. A handkerchief for a flag. Sail-boat coming.







beach, with a handkerchief tied to the end of the blade
of it, as a signal, she said, for any ship that might chance
to pass near their island to come and rescue them.
Phonny made the oar stand upright, in using it thus for
a flagstaff, by placing stones around it at the foot. The
handkerchief which was to serve for the flag, was tied
to the blade of the oar before the oar was raised, and as
there was a gentle wind at the time, it spread itself out
and fluttered m the breeze as soon as Phonny had
elevated it, as if it had been a veritable signal.

At length, after spending about half an hour upon the
island, Caroline said that it was time for them to re-embark
and proceed. on their voyage. So she directed Phonny
to go and take down the oar. Phonny proceeded to do
so, when suddenly Malleville pointed to something at a
distance on the water, and said,

“See, Caroline, there is a ship coming.”

Caroline looked in the direction which Mallevile indi-
cated, and to her surprise she saw what appeared to be a
small sail-boat coming toward them.

«“Phonny, what is that ? ” said she.

“TTi—yo!” said Phonny, “there comes a sail-boat.”

The three voyagers stood for a few minutes gazing in
silence at the unexpected sight. ‘The boat appeared to
be a small one, and the sail was of a very simple con-~-
struction. It adwanced rapidly, however, as there was a
very pleasant evening breeze, and it seemed to be coming
directly toward the island.

“ { wonder who it can be,” said Caroline.

“ T expect it is some men from the mill,” said Phonny.
«“'That is the kind of boat they have at the mill”

Phonny was right in his conjecture. ‘The boat was



54 CAROLINE.

Conversation with the mill-men. Taking in tow.





what is called a canoe, such as the mill-men used in work-
ing about the booms and dam. It was not originally de-
signed to carry a sail, but the men had rigged a sort of
sail to it, and having rowed to the upper end of the
pond, upon some of their business, before the shower,
they were now returning, and as the wind was favourable
they had hoisted their sail. They had observed the
Robinson Crusoe signal which Phonny had raised, and
were now coming to the island to see who were there.
They came up pretty near the place where the children
were standing on the beach, and then took in their sail,
which, as it was small and light, could be furled in a
moment.

« Are you in any difficulty P” said one of the men.

“Yes,” said Caroline. “We got caught out in the
shower, and we are trying to get to the mill in our boat.”

Here the men talked with each other a minute or two
in an under-tone. They spoke so low that the children
could not hear what they said. At last one of the men
turned his face toward the party on the shore again and
said,

“« Well, get on board your boat and give us the painter,
and we’ll take you in tow.”

Caroline did not know precisely what was meant by
taking in tow, though Phonny understood the phraseology
sufficiently well to know what he was to do. He took
down the flag and put the oar on board. He unfastened
the painter, and held the bow of the boat while Caroline
and Malleville got in. Hethen pushed the boat off from
the shore and leaped in himself, as soon as he had set it
in motion. In the mean time Caroline had resumed her
seat in the stern, and had taken up the paddle.



A VOYAGE. 55





Caroline and her party have a sail. The village. The line cast off.



“ Now send her ahead,” said Phonny, “right toward
the other boat.”

“So Caroline paddled as well as she could, and suc-
ceeded in propelling her boat slowly in the direction of
the sail-boat. As soon as Phonny could reach, he gave
the end of the painter to one of the men in the sail-boat,
and the man fastened it there in some way or other. His
comrades then hoisted the sail, and thus the wind carried
both boats on together.

Caroline and her party had a delightful sail. They had
nothing to do now but to sit upon the seats and enjoy the
gentle motion of the boat as it glided smoothly and noise-
lessly through the water. The men in the sail-boat
turned around occasionally to look at them, and some-
times asked them questions in respect to their being
caught out in the shower. Excepting this, the parties in
both boats sailed along in silence most of the way. Ca-
roline and the children in fact began to feel somewhat
tired, for they had been out now a long time, and had
passed through such a variety of excitements that they
seemed glad of a little rest.

At length they came in sight of the village, and of the
mill standing at the border of it, near the stream. 'The
men seemed to be steering the sail-boat directly toward
the mill. The breeze was fresh, and the boats glided along
very rapidly through the water, and at length began to
draw quite near. Caroline was looking out toward the
shore, wondermg where the men were going to land,
when suddenly one of the men who was seated in the
stern of the sail-boat, untied the painter of the children’s
boat and cast it off into the water, saying, at the same
time,



56 CAROLINE.



Boat adrift. Fear of going over the dam. The landing.



“There is your painter. Now you must take care of
yourselves.”

As he said this, he put down his helm and the sail-boat
swept round in a grand circle toward the other side of
the pond, leaving Caroline and her party in their boat to
drift wherever the current might carry them. There was
not much current, it is true, though there was a gentle
motion apparent on the surface of the water, tending to-
ward the dam.

“ 'Take care,
the dam.”

“ No,” said Caroline, “ the water is not deep enough on
the dam to carry us over, even if we go down to it.”

However, notwithstanding this assurance, Caroline did
not seem inclined to run the risk of being carried over
the dam, for she directed Phonny to put out his oar and
row, while she plied her paddle very vigorously. Phonny,
in his trepidation, began first to row the wrong way, and
then Malleville took hold to help him, which only hin-
dered him, so the boat went more than half round before
the young navigators could get command of its motions.
At length, however, they succeeded, and gradually pro-
pelled it to the shore.

There was a little landing by the mill, at a place near
the flume, where the water went in through a grating to
turn the great water-wheel. Caroline directed the boat
to this landing. When it touched the sand, Phonny got
out and held the boat by the bow until the other voyagers
had disembarked. They then secured the boat by tying
the painter to a post which had been set in the ground
there, expressly for such uses.

There was a path leading from this landing to a door

37

said Phonny, “we shall be carried over



A VOYAGE. 57

Going into the mill. Shoes dry. Rodolphus in the mill.

RI i Nth Rt

in the lower part of the mill. As soon as the boat was
fastened, Caroline led the way along this path, saymg, as
she went,

“ Now, children, be very careful and not step where
there is any wet grass.”

Caroline opened the door, and went into the mill. The
others followed her, and then she looked down at her
shoes, and also at those of Malleville and Phonny, to see
if they were wet. The shoes and dresses of all three ap-
peared as nice and dry as when they first left home.

“ Now,” said Caroline, “let us go up-stairs, and see if
we can find Rodolphus.”

So Caroline led the way to the back part of the room,
where there was a broad flight of stairs leading to an
apartment above. ‘There was a great rumbling noise of
wheels and machinery in the mill, and Malleville was a
little afraid; but she went boldly on, taking hold, all the
time, of Phonny’s hand, and keeping as near as possible
to Caroline. At the head of the stairs was a door. They
opened the door and came out into the main room of the
mill, where all the grinding was going on.

They found Rodolphus here, busy in pouring some corn
into a great hopper. Caroline went to him and told him
how they had been caught in the shower. She was
obliged to talk very loud, to make Rodolphus hear, on ac-
count of the noise which was made by the machinery.
She concluded by asking Rodolphus if he knew of any-
body there, that they could send home, to tell Uncle Ben
where they were, and to ask him to come for them in a
wagon.

«There is a man here with a wagon,” said Rodolphus,



58 CAROLINE.

ance, a

Mrs. Keep’s anxiety. Her conversation with Mr. Keep.

“and he will lend it to me to carry you home, while his
grist is grinding.”

“ But who will tend the grinding then ?” said Phonny.

“ Oh, he will tend it himself,’ said Rodolphus.

So Rodolphus went and spoke to the man, and in a
few minutes returned, and reported that the man said
they might have his wagon and welcome.

“ And I will go and drive you,” said Rodolphus.

So Rodolphus went into a little room in a corner of the
mill, and. took off his miller’s frock and put on his jacket.
Then he went out and got the wagon, and brought it up
to the door. He helped the children in, and then got in
himself, taking his seat on a small box, which was in the
front part of the wagon. When all was thus ready, he
drove off through the village.

In the mean time, at Mr. Keep’s house, when the great
shower came on and Mrs. Keep found that Caroline and
the children did not return, she felt a great deal of so-
licitude about them. She went into her husband’s office,
where Mr. Keep was busy writing, to speak to him
about it.

“ Husband,” said she, “I am afraid the children have
got into some difficulty.”

“ Yes,” said Mr. Keep, “I presume they have.”

“ What shall we do?” said Mrs. Keep.

“TI don’t know that there is anything that we can do,”
replied Mr. Keep. “They will come home by-and-by,
all drenched with the rain, that’s all. There is no other
way with such a girl as Caroline, but to let her learn by
her own experience.”

“ But [ am afraid that they have got into some serious



A VOYAGE, 59

Mr. Keep’s composure. The children come home.

trouble,” said Mrs. Keep. “ Would it not be best to send
for them ?”

“T don’t know where we could send,” said Mr. Keep.
“ We can’t tell where they have gone. If you think it best,
however, I will go and see if I can find anything of them.
But I presume that they have run in somewhere out of
the rain, and will come home by-and-by, safe enough,
only they will, undoubtedly, be muddy and wet from
head. to foot.”

Mrs. Keep was satisfied that it would do no good to
send for the children, but she felt quite uneasy neverthe-
less, and went continually to the door, to see if they were
coming. She was at last greatly relieved, at seeing Ro-
dolphus drive up with them in the wagon, and at finding
that they were as dry and as clean as if there had been
no shower at all.



60 CAROLINE.



Beechnut in Boston. His plans for going home.

CHAPTER V.
BEECHNUT’S RETURN.

Own the morning of the third day after Phonny wrote
his composition-letter describing the imaginary fire, which
was sent to the post-office by mistake, Beechnut on look-
ing out from his window at the hotel where he was lodg-
ing in the city, saw that it was raining fast. The first
gong had already sounded. In half an kour the gong
would sound again, he knew, for breakfast. He dressed
himself, thinking, while thus employed, about the busi-
ness which he had still to do in the city, and considering
whether the rain would prevent his finishing it, and setting
out for home the next day, as he had intended todo. He
came to the conclusion that he might perhaps get through
with his business notwithstanding the storm.

Immediately after breakfast he took his umbrella and
went out into the street, intending, first of all, according
to his usual custom, to go to the post-office. His hotel was
at some distance from the post-office. As he came out
upon the side-walk from the door of the hotel, he said to
himself, thinking,

“ Let me see,—shall I walk to the post-office or take an
omnibus? Let me calculate a litle. My board at the
hotel is two dollars a day. My time in Franconia is
worth to Mrs. Henry say one dollar more. So that every
day that I stay in Boston, costs her three dollars. Now



BEECHNUT’S RETURN. 61





A curious calculation. The omnibus. The boy in the omnibus.

how many business hours in a day are there here? I
will call it six. Thus every day that I stay here my
time costs Mrs. Henry fifty cents an hour. The price of
a ride is six cents, the eighth part of half a dollar. There-
fore [ had. better ride whenever I can save an eighth part
of an hour by it: and that I can do now.”

So saying, Beechnut held up his finger to the driver
of an omnibus which just then came passing by. The
driver reined up his horses, and Beechnut got in.

An omnibus is a long carriage with a door and steps
leading to it behind. The seats within are along the
sides. There are windows too along the sides, but no doors.

When Beechnut got into the omnibus he found that it
was full of passengers, all excepting one seat near the
door, and that seat was occupied by a small boy who was
kneeling up upon it, in order that he might look out
the window. It was a warm morning though rainy, and
the window was open, the wind being on the other side.

Omnibuses in cities are almost always full In rainy
weather, since many people who like to walk when it is
pleasant, are very glad to ride when it rains. This is
particularly true in New York, where m rainy weather it
is sometimes almost impossible to get a place in an
omnibus, or, as they often call it there, a Sus. One day
when Beechnut and Phonny were in New York together,
and were coming up Broadway in an omnibus, both being
jammed up in very close quarters in it, Im one corner,
Beechnut amused Phonny by describing the state of
things thus :



On every wet and ramy day,
They crowd the *busses in Broadway,
Against all rule ;



62 CAROLINE.

Beechnut's poetry. The boy looks out at the window.

aeperiny



And sometimes when ’tis very showery,
Even the rail cars in the Bowery,
Get more than full.

Phonny had been very impatient and fretfal under the
pressure which he endured, but after hearing Beechnut’s
poetry he became much more good-natured about it.

But to return to the story. A woman who sat next to
the boy who was kneeling upon the seat, and who seemed
to have the care of him, took hold of him to take him
down, in order to make room for Beechnut when she saw
him coming in. But Beechnut prevented her.

“ Let him stay,” said he. “He likes to look out the
window, and I shall have room.”

So Beechnut crowded into the place that was left, be-
tween the boy and the end of the seat near the door,
leaving the boy kneeling where he was, on the seat.

The omnibus stopped from time to time as it passed
along the street, and various people got out. At last it
reached the street which led down to the post-office.
Beechnut pulled the string. The omnibus stopped. The
woman took the child down from the seat, and prepared.
to get out of the omnibus. Beechnut stepped down first,
and spread his umbrella. Then he helped the boy down,
and afterward the woman. He held his umbrella over
them until they reached the side-walk, for the omnibus
had stopped in the middle of the street. The woman
was young, and she had a very pleasant countenance, but
she was very plainly dressed. She thanked Beechnut
for his kindness, and then spread her own umbrella over
herself and her boy, and Beechnut walked away.

Beechnut went down a broad and straight street, lined
on both sides with magnificent buildings, and leading to-



BEECHNUT’S RETURN. 63

Beechnut goes down State Street. The post-office. The delivery.



ward the water. He could see the masts of the ships and
other vessels that were lying at the wharves, at the lower
end of the street. After passing several granite blocks,
consisting of buildings occupied by banks and insurance
offices, he came at length to a great door through which
a multitude of people were going and coming. Beechnut
went in. He found himself in a long and wide passage-
way, crowded with people. A great» many were going in.
A great many others were coming out. Those that
were coming out, generally had newspapers or letters in
their hands. The floor of the building was of stone, and.
it was extremely wet, being drenched with the drippings
of innumerable umbrellas.

Beechnut went on, and at length came to a place where
the passage-way widened, and where there was a large
iron stairway leading to apartments above. Beyond this
stairway he passed by a long range of sashes with glass
in them like windows,—and on the inside of the sashes,
in a room within, were a great many little boxes or
pigeon-holes, filled with letters. ‘These were the boxes of
the merchants and other residents of Boston—the plan
being to put the letters of each merchant, when the
mails came in, into his box, and then he could tell by
looking through the window, from the passage-way, when
there were any letters for him. Beechnut, of course, had
no box, and so he went on to another place to get his
letters.

He came at length to a place beyond the boxes, where
there were three small niches or recesses, with a window
in each of them. Over the first of these recesses were
painted several letiers of the alphabet, namely, those from
A to F. The meaning of this was, that all persons



64 CAROLINE.

Mode of applying for letters. The column.

whose names began with those letters, were to inquire at
that window, while those whose names began with any
other letters, were to go to the next window. As Beech-
nut’s name, Bianchinette, began with B, he went to the
first recess.

There were a number of men and boys formed in a
line here, or rather in a column, waiting for their turns
to inquire for letters. The one who was at the head of
this column was at the window. Beechnut took his place
at the foot of it. The man at the head of the column
soon got his letter, and went away. Then the next man
went up to the window, and the whole column advanced
one step. Thus as fast as those at the head of the column
received their letters, the column advanced, while at the
same time new-comers were continually joining in at the
foot of it. Thus the column continued always of nearly
the same length, being kept up by a constant succession
of persons going and coming.

Pretty soon, Beechnut got up near the window. He
could hear the men before him ask for their letters.
Those who were accustomed to come to the office, would
speak briefly,—simply giving their name; while those
who were strangers at the office, usually made a long
sentence of it, in speaking to the clerk. For instance,
the man who was next but two to Beechnut, put his
head to the window and said to the clerk inside, “ Is there
any letter here, to-day, for Samuel Thompson ? ” whereas,
the man who had preceded him simply said, speaking
very distinctly, “ George Jones.” This last was sufficient,
for as the clerk within was perfectly aware that nobody
came to that window for anything but letters, all that he
needed to be informed in respect to each new applicant



BEECHNUT’S RETURN. 65

The woman comes. Ladies’ window. The lady gets a letter.



that came was the name of the person whose letters he
wished to get.

As Beechnut was amusing himself in observing these
things while waiting his turn, he happened to perceive
the woman who had been with him ‘in the omnibus,
coming along the passage-way, leading her httle boy by
the hand. She looked about, appearing to be a little be-
wildered, and seemed not to know where to go.

Beechnut immediately left his place in the line, though
by so doing he knew very well that he should lose his
turn, and be obliged to go to the foot again; but he
thought that it would only take him a few minutes to get
up to where he was before. So he went to the woman
and said to her,

“If you came to get-a letter, you must go to the ladies’
window, which is out this way.”

So he led the way, and the woman followed. He came
presently to a recess similar to the one which he had gone
to first himself, only instead of having the letters of the
alphabet over it, it had the words LADIES’ WINDOW printed
there.

“ Would you be so good as to inquire for me?” said
the woman.

“ Yes,” said Beechnut, “ what is the name ?”

“« Mrs. Caroline Keep,” said the woman.

Beechnut was very much surprised to hear this name
announced. He, however, said nothing, but repeated the
name at the little opening in the window, and the clerk
inside immediately took down a parcel of letters from a
compartment, marked K, and began to look them over.
While Beechnut waited to see what the result would be,
the woman stood by him, holding her boy by the hand.

P



66 CAROLINE.



Beechnut’s mode of calling for aletter. He is astonished and alarmed.

“ My husband has gone to California,” said she, “ and I
expect a letter from him. I had to bring my Ihttle boy
with me, because I had nobody to leave him with at
home.”

Beechnut bad a great desire to know whether this Mrs.
Caroline Keep was any relation to his friend Caroline of
Franconia, and he was upon the point of asking the
question, when the clerk handed him out a letter. Mrs.
Keep seized it immediately and said very joyfully,

“ Yes, it is from my husband.”

Then she thanked Beechnut again for all his kindness,
and went away very greatly pleased, as it seemed, with
having got a letter.

Beechnut then went back to his own window, and took
his place as before at the foot of the column. In due
time, he made his way up to the window, and when there,
instead of calling his name as the others had done, he
handed in to the clerk aslip of paper with his name
written upon it. This was Beechnut’s usual practice, for
his name being a French one, and having, of course a
very unusual sound for American ears, it was always the
safest and also the most convenient way, both for himself
and the clerks, that he should give it to them in writing.

The clerk took down a parcel of letters from the com-
partment marked B,and very soom gave Beechnut a
Jetter. It was the letter which Phonny had written as a
composition in Mr. Keep’s office.

Beechnut left the letter-window and went across the
passage-way to a place where there was a window which
looked out into the open air, and there opened his letter
and began to read. He was greatly astonished and very
much alarmed at reading the account of the fire. Of



BEECHNUT’S RETURN. 67



Beechnut takes a hack. Conversation with the hackman.

o

course, he supposed the account was true. There was
nothing either in or about the letter to suggest any other
supposition. He was at first somewhat at a loss to know
what Phonny meant by saying that his half-hour was not
out, but he finally concluded that Mrs. Henry had limited
him to half an hour in writing his letter, on account of
the closing of the mail. He folded up the letter, put it
in his pocket, and walked rapidly along the passage-way
among the people that were going and coming.

“J must set off for Franconia,” said he, “ by the very
first train.”

There was a clock at the end of a building which stood
at the head of the street in which the post-office was
situated. This elock is a very noted time-piece, being:
known universally to all the people who frequent that
part of the city, as the State Street clock. Beechnut
looked up at this clock as soon as he got out upon the
side-walk and found that it was half-past eight.

“'The train leaves at ten,” said Beechnut, “I have just
an hour and a half to do all my business.”

He walked rapidly up the street till he came pretty
near the head of it, and then turned into another short
and narrow street on ‘the left, where he recollected to have
seen a hack stand. The hack was there. The horses
were standing patiently in the rain, while the hackman,
having got inside of his coach, was lying there in a corner
fast asleep.

Beechnut pulled him and waked him up.

“Flow much do you ask for your carriage by the
hour ?” said he.

“'To ride about town?” asked the man.

FZ





68 CAROLINE,



Beechnut at the hotel. Settling the bill.

“ Yes,” said Beechnut.

“ A dollar for the first hour, and seventy-five cents for
every hour afterward,” said the hackman.

“Well!” said Beechnut. <‘‘ Drive me to the Marlboro’
hotel.”

So the driver got out of his hack and Beechnut got in.
The driver then pulled out a great cape, made of India-
rubber cloth, from under his seat in front of the coach,
and after putting it on, he mounted on the box and rode
away.

The hackman stopped at length at the door of the
hotel, Beechnut went up into his room and packed his
trank, This was very soon done, and then he came
down. to the office and called for his bill.

“ Do you leave town this morning, sir?” said the clerk.

“Yes,” said Beechnut, “I am going out in the ten
o’clock train.”

“ Do you wish for a carriage P” said the clerk.

“ No, | have a carriage here,” said Beechnut.

“Ts your baggage ready ?”

“ Yes,” said Beechnut, “ all ready.”

Here the clerk called out in a loud voice,

“ Baggage in number thirty-seven.”

There were several porters sitting on a settee in the
office, and as soon as they heard the order of the clerk,
one of them went up-stairs to Beechnut’s room and
brought down his valise. In the mean time Beechnut
paid his bill. He then followed the porter down-stairs to
the door. The porter opened the coach door and put
Beechnut’s valise inside. Beechnut then got in himself,
saying to the driver as he got in,



BEECHNUT’S RETURN. 69

Driving about town. The depot. The baggage.



“Thirty-three, Kilby-street.”
The porter shut the coach door when Beechnut had
taken his seat, and then the coachman drove on.

Beechnut spent an hour in driving rapidly from place
to place about the city, attending to the business which
had. been committed to him. At some places he made
purchases, and brought out the parcels which contained
what he bought and put them into the coach. At other
places he left directions to have the goods sent to Fran-
conia by express, sometimes because the quantity was too
great for him to take along with him, and sometimes be-
cause the things could not be got ready in time for him
to take them. At length he ordered the hackman to
drive him to the railway station, and he reached it just as
the first bell was ringing, which was ten minutes before
the train was to leave.

He bought his ticket at the ticket-office, and then went
along with his valise to the place where the baggage was
to be checked. There was a preat pile of trunks, carpet-
bags, and portmanteaus there, and the baggage-master
was attaching checks to them. There was a young girl
standing by, with a trunk and a band-box near her, wait-
ing for her turn, and looking anxious and. distressed.
Beechnut asked. her if he could help her.

“T want to get a check for my baggage,” said she,
‘and I am afraid there will not be time; for the bell has
rang already.”

“Oh yes, there will be time,” said Beechnut. “’'They
will not start till all the baggage is taken in. Where are
you going P”

The girl told Beechnut where she was going, and so



70 CAROLINE.

His adventures in getting home,



Patent ee

Beechnut assists a stranger.

Beechnut, taking her trunk and band-box, carried them

forward to the baggage-master, and said,

«Will you be good enough to check this baggage now ;
it is for a lady.”

The baggage-master asked him where it was going,
and Beechnut told him. The man then selected the
proper checks, and fastening one of each on the trunk
and on the band-box, by means of a little strap that was
attached to the check, he gave the others to Beechnut,
and Beechnut gave them to the girl. The girl seemed
very much relieved, and immediately went away to get
her seat in the car.

A moment afterward Beechnut got his own check, and
then took his seat in one of the cars. Presently the bell
tolled, the whistle sounded, and the whole train began
slowly to move out of the station.

Beechnut had a great variety of adventures that day,
in getting home. The train that he was in was detained
for an hour, by some derangement of the machinery, and
then, after that, having, by this detention, lost its right
to the road, it was detained several times, at various
branches, waiting for the other trains. When, at last,
Beechnut reached the place where he was to leave the
railroad and take the stage, he found that the stage was
gone. It was now five o’clock, and he was extremely
anxious to get home that night, knowing very well that,
after such a fire, his presence at Franconia, at the earliest
possible moment, would be very urgently needed. He
accordingly hired a wagon to carry him. There was a boy
to go, todrive. The distance was only about twenty-five
miles, and Beechnut hoped to get home at ten o'clock.
He went on, without difficulty, for about ten miles,



BEECHNU'T’S RETURN. 71





The boy refuses to go on. Beechnut in difficulty.

though the roads were very wet, being everywhere filled
with pools and streams of water ; for it had rained incess-
antly all the day, and it seemed to rain faster and faster
as the night came on.

At last, just as it began to grow pretty dark, they came
in the wagon to a long low place, near a pond, where the
road was overflowed with water for a great distance be-
fore them. The boy stopped, and said that he should not
dare to go through that water. Beechnut examined the
place as well as he could, and thought there was no
serious danger; but all his efforts to inspire the boy with
courage sufficient to undertake the passage, were vain.
The truth was, the boy was beginning to be tired of the
dismal expedition that he had been sent upon, and was
very glad to have anything occur to release him from the
necessity of going on three hours longer in the darkness
and rain. He therefore positively refused to go any
farther.

“Well,” said Beechnut, “I will pay you for what you
have done, and you may go back.”

So Beechnut paid him the proper proportion of the sum
which had been agreed upon for the whole journey, and
then got out of the wagon.

“ Now,” said he, “ give me my valise.”’

“ But what are you going to do? ” said the boy.

“E don’t know,” said Beechnut. “I am going to do
something. [ will consider and decide after you have
gone.”

So the boy turned his wayon round, and bidding Beech-
nut good-night, he drove away.

Beechnut had his umbrella over his head, and his
valise in his hand. He went out to the side of the road,



72 CAROLINE.

Beechnut determines to wade through the water. His various preparations.



and found a vacant place among some _ bushes, which
afforded him a little shelter. It is true it rained as much
in that place as in any other, but there was no wind there
to drive the rain under the umbrella. Here Beechnut
began to undress himself, taking off his clothes with one
hand, and holding his umbrella over his head with the
other. His valise he had previously put down upon the
ground at his feet. As fast as he took his clothes off he
folded them up carefully, and put them on his valise.
When all his clothes were off, he put his great coat on
again, with nothing underneath it. He thought that this
coat would be a sufficient protection for him in case he
should meet any one coming, and besides, it would keep
him from being cold. He supposed that the skirts of his
coat would probably get wet, as he waded, but this, he
concluded, would be of no great consequence. He could
wring them out again, when he got to the other side.

After putting on his coat, Beechnut bound his other
clothes snugly to his valise by means of two straps which
passed over the top of it. He then cut a long staff from
the bushes growing near him, and finally, taking up the
valise in his hand again, by means of a leather handle
that was attached to it in front, he went back to the road,
and then began to walk forward into the water, holding
his valise in one hand, and his staff and umbrella in the
other.

It was now quite dark, and as Beechnut went on
through the water, he was guided by the reflection of the
sky upon it, and by the lines of trees and thickets which
rose like dark walls on each side of the road. He kept
as nearly as possible in the middle between these bounds.
He felt somewhat afraid, but he knew that as it was



BEECHNUT’S RETURN. 73



He finds a shelter, The farmer. The rain ceases.





a road that he was walking upon, it was not probable
that the water would deepen suddenly, and then, besides,
his staff, though he was very much encumbered in using
it, by having to hold the umbrella in the same hand, was
still of some service to him in enabling him to feel his
way.

He went through
the water in this way
safely. In fact, he
reached the end of it
sooner than he had
expected, As soon
as he came out of
the water, he found
that by good fortune
there was a barn and
a shed near, close by
the side of the road.
Beechnut went in
under the shed and
put on his clothes a
there. The roof of the FORDING
shed afforded him a perfect shelter. There was a farm-
er’s house a little beyond, and Beechnut, when he was
dressed, went to it and applied for a horse and wagon to
carry him the rest of the journey.

The farmer hesitated about letting his horse go out on
such a dark and rainy night. Beechnut told him that he
thought it was not going to rain much more. Im fact the
rain had then almost entirely ceased, and the farmer, on
coming out to the door to look, found that the clouds were
breaking away, and in one place the moon was beginning





74. CAROLINE.

Beechnnt astonished to see Mrs Henry’s house standing.



to shine through. So the farmer harnessed up the horse
and carried Beechnut home.

When they drove up to Mrs. Henry’s house, , Beech-
nut found, to his utter amazement, instead of the melan-
choly heap of smoking ruins which he had expected to
see, that the house and all the buildings around it were
standing safe and sound, just as he had left them a
week before. He could scarcely believe his eyes. He
could not think it possible that Phonny would have
written him such a letter to deceive him, and yet there
the buildings stood in all their integrity, with the moon
shining upon them as calmly and peacefully as ever.

There were no lights visible in the house, for it was
very late, and the family had all retired. In fact, it was
past midnight. Beechnut paid and dismissed the farmer,
and began to consider how he could get in without dis-
turbing the family.

He went into the barn and got a ladder. He carried
this ladder round to the back side of the house, and set it
up there against a shed. He mounted to the top of the
shed, and walked along upon the roof until he came to
a window which opened into his own room. He opened
the window as noiselessly as possible, and crept in. He
struck a light, made a fire, warmed and dried himself,
and then went to bed. By half-past one o’clock he was
sound asleep.

The next morning, when Phonny came to know that
his letter had actually been sent, and learned how much
trouble it had occasioned, he was very much concerned.

“J did not think there was any harm,” said he, “in
making up an imaginary story of a house taking fire.”

“There was nothing wrong in doing it,” said Beechnut,



BEECHNCUT’S RETURN. 75

Truth and fiction.





“and there would have been no harm to come from it, if
you made it all imaginary, that is, if it had been some
fictitious owse that you had burned down with your
fictitious fire. For truth and fiction,” continued Beechnut,
“are in some respects like sugar and salt. Each is very
good in its place, but it does not do to mix them to-
gether.”







76 CAROLINE.

a ed ————-

Phonny comes to see the valise opened. The skates.

CHAPTER VI.

THE PARTY.

PuHOoNNY always took a great interest in the opening
of Beechnut’s trunk or valise whenever Beechnut came
back from any of his journeys, for he was almost always
sure of finding something to amuse and interest him
there. In fact Beechnut often brought some small pre-
sents on such occasions.

Accordingly, on the morning after Beechnut’s sudden
return from Boston, as described in the last chapter,
Phonny went into his room before. breakfast, to see what
he had brought home. Malleville followed him. She
wished to see too. When the children went in, Beechnut
was examining the clothes which he had taken off the
evening before, to see if they were dry.

“ Beechnut,” said Phonny, “when are you going to
open your valise P”

« Pretty soon,” said Beechnut, “ though there is nothing
there that you will wish to see. Except that I have been
buying me anew pair of skates.”

“ Skates!” said Phomny, “‘ why it is August. It is no
time to buy skates in August.”

‘Ah, but I like to be in season with such things,” said
Beechnut. “I saw a new kind of skates in Boston, and
so 1 bought a pair.”

Beechnut was unstrapping his valise as he said this, and



doy

THE PARTY. 77



a

Strange mistake. Beechnut’s surprise. Phonny takes the skates.

Phonny stood by anticipating with great interest the
moment when the skates should come into view. At
length Beechnut opened the valise and-took out a large
paper parcel from it. He opened the parcel and took
from it a pair of superior skates, highly-finished and full-
rigged. Phonny seized one of them while Beechnut held
the other.

« 'There,” said Beechnut, “that’s what I call a first-rate
pair of skates.”

As he said this, he applied the skate to his foot by way
of showing Phonny what an excellent fit it would be. He
found, however, that it was not long enough for his foot
by an inch or more. He looked extremely astonished as
he made this discovery, and exclaimed in a tone of great
apparent disappointment,

“ Upon my word, if they are not too small for me. How
ridiculous it was in me not to try them on before I bought
them.”

In the mean time, Phonny, greatly excited, had ap-
plied the other skate to his own foot. It fitted him exactly.

“Tt is just right for me, Beechnut,” said Phonny. “ Ex-
actly right for me,—look !”

Beechnut assumed a very comical expression of disap-
pointment and chagrin.

“'The next time I buy skates,” said he, “I think I
shall have sense enough first to try them on.”

“ You must let me have them,” said Phonny, “they are
just exactly right! see!”

“Yes,” said Beechnut, despondingly, “I suppose IL
must. They will never be of any use to me.”

So Phonny seized the skates and ran off to show them
to his mother.



78 CAROLINE.





= ent

Talk about the party. A new delay in respect to the party. Reason for it.



Malleville, not caring much about skates, rernained
with Beechnut.

“ we can have our party.”

“ What party ?” said ‘Beechnut.

“ Why, Caroline is going to have a party;” said Malle-
ville.

“ Ah,” rejoined Beechnut. “ And is she going to invite
me?”

“Yes,” said Malleville. “She is waiting for you to
come home.”

“T am sure I am very much obliged to her for her
politeness,” said Beechnut.

“JT don’t think it is her politeness,” said Malleville.
“T guess she is waiting for you, so that she can have a
better time.”

Beechnut smiled, but said nothing.

Notwithstanding Malleville’s expectations tnat the
party would take place immediately now that Beechnut
had returned, her pleasure was destined to another delay,
for just as Caroline had frxed upon the day a second
time, she heard that Malleville’s brother Wallace,
Phonny’s cousin, was coming to Franconia in a few days
to spend his college vacation, and that he was going to
bring with him one of his classmates, a young gentleman
from New York, named Livingston. Caroline accord-
ingly concluded to postpone her party until Wallace and
Livingston should arrive. She thought very justly that
the party would be a much pleasanter one to all who
should attend it, if these young strangers could be among
her guests.

At length, one evening about five o’clock, the stage~



THE PARTY. 79







Livingston and Wallace arrive. Livingston and Beechnut.

coach drove up to Mrs. Henry’s door, and Wallace and
Livingston descended from it.

Livingston was a tall and very handsome boy, with
dark silken hair, and black eyes. His countenance was
marked with a very gentle, and at the same time with a
very thoughtful and intellectual, expression. He said but
little, but seemed to look kindly and thoughtfully upon
every thing, and upon every person, that he saw. As
soon as he arrived, he went first into the house, with
Wallace, to pay his respects to Mrs. Henry.

“ How do you do, Livingston,” said Mrs. Henry, as she
gave him her hand. “I am very glad to see you.”

Livingston gave Mrs. Henry his hand, and looked into
her face with a pleased and happy expression of counten-
ance, but said nothing. Mrs. Henry thought she had
never seen so handsome a boy.

He held his cap in his hand, and he wore a sort of
frock coat, that was buttoned up to his chin.

Wallace then took Livingston out, to show him the
yards and the gardens, and the buildings of the farm.
Livingston followed Wallace about, and looked at every
thing very attentively ; and he appeared to be very much
pleased with what he saw. The scene was, in some re-
spects, quite novel to him, for he had been brought up in
a city, and knew very little about the fixtures and appoint-
ments of a farm.

In the course of their walk, the boys met Beechnut
coming out of the garden.

“< Here comes Beechnut,” said Wallace.

“Beechnut,” said Livingston, extending his hand to
him in a very cordial manner, “I am very glad to see
you. I have heard about you very often.”



80 CAROLINE.
The rocks and precipices. Invitations to the party. Plan of the party.

Livingston was particularly interested in the aspect of
the rocks and mountains behind Mrs. Henry’s house.
He proposed to Wallace to go up there with him, at once.
Wallace said that there would not be time to go up before
tea,—and after tea it would be nearly dark. Livingston
then proposed that they should get up e&rly the next
morning, and climb up to a certain summit that he
pointed cut, before sunrise. To this plan Wallace readily
agreed. Phonny and Malleville wished to go too, but
when the morning came, and Wallace called them, they
were too sleepy to get up. So Livingston and Wallace
went alone, and they had a very pleasant excursion.

During that day the invitations came for Caroline’s
party. ‘There were five persons invited from Mrs. Henry’s,
namely, Livingston, Wallace, Beechnut, Malleville, and
Phonny. Malleville was greatly delighted at receiving
her note, and she danced about with it for joy. Living-
ston said that he was glad that there was going to be a
party; for he should hke very much to see the girls and
boys of Franconia together. Beechnut, as soon as he
had read his note, sent Malleville to carry it up-stairs to
his room, and put it in a certain drawer there.

“You will go to Caroline’s party, will you not?”
said she, walking away backward with the note in her
hand.

“In the evening, some time,” said Beechnut. “1 will
come in season to bring you safely home.”

The plan of the party was for the company to assemble
at five o’clock. They were to spend one hour in the gar-
dens and grounds, and then to go into the house for tea,
at six o’clock. Taking tea was to occupy about half an
hour, and after that there were to be two hours for games



THE PARTY. 81

The hall. Objects of interest in it, Receiving the company,



and plays, and then, at half-past eight, the children were
to go home.

The room called the hall was the apartment in which
Caroline’s company were to be entertained. This room
was selected partly because it was larger than any other
room, and partly because there were-so many books and
playthings in the desks and closets which it contained.
The children were first received, however, in the parlour.
The parlour was in the front part of the house, and was
very beautifully furnished. It had a very soft carpet upon
the floor, and rich crimson damask curtains to the win-
dows, and a centre-table with a chandelier over it im the
middle of the room, and sofas, arm-chairs, ottomans, and
other luxurious seats about the sides. The boys and
girls, as they came up in small parties, to the door, were
admitted by Susan, the maid who generally waited upon
Caroline, and conducted to small bed-rooms, in which
they put away their hats and bonnets, and then ushered
into the parlour, where Caroline was standing, surrounded
by her friends, ready to receive them.

As the company came in, some walked about the room
to see what was there, and some took their seats upon the
sofas and ottomans. They were at first quite silent, and
looked upon each other, and especially upon Wallace and
Livingston, with a constrained air. In fact, though all
the rest of the company were perfectly acquainted with
each other, they were somewhat afraid of the strangers,
though not morc so, it is to be presumed, than the stran-
gers were afraid of them.

After a little time Caroline proposed that the company
should go out into the garden, and as they all seemed
much pleased with this proposition, she led the way into

G



82 CAROLINE.



Books and playthings. Annie Linnand Ellen. Wallace and Livingston.

the hall. From the hall there was a door leading out
into a little green-yard, through which there was a pas-
sage to the garden. As they passed through the hall,
some of the children asked Caroline to show them her
playthings. So Caroline stopped to do this. She opened
first a large, deep drawer. ‘The drawer was full of picture-
books and. boxes of playthings. Caroline took a number
of these things out, and distributed them about to the
children, and she opened some boxes and took out the
toys which were inside of them and strewed them all
about the chairs and tables that were there. The
younger children gathered around her as she did this, and
examined the curiosities and toys with the greatest in-
terest. Among the rest was little Annie Linn.

Annie continually called to her sister Ellen, who was
at this time about fourteen years of age, to look at one
wonderful or beautiful thing after another, as Caroline
brought them successively to view. Ellen seemed to
take pleasure in looking at the playthings on her own
account, but she was still more interested im them on
account of her sister Annie, who kept fast hold of her
hand all the time, and seemed very desirous that she
should see all.

While a part of the company had stopped thus to look
at Caroline’s playthings, the rest passed on, and went out
into a little piazza which opened upon the green-yard.
Livingston remained behind looking at the playthings.
Wallace had gone out. Wallace came back, however,
to the door a moment afterward, and called Livingston
to come out into the garden.

“ Well,” said Livingston, “ I will come presently.”

“ No, come now,” said Wallace, “here is a swing.”



THE PARTY. 83

They go to the swing. Order. Ellen puts back the playthings.

“Well,” said Livingston.

“Yes, children,” said Caroline. “Let us go to the
swing.”

So Caroline arose, and pushing the playthings aside,
was about to follow Livingston and Wallace out to the
swing, when Ellen Linn said to her,

“ Let us put the playthings in order first.”

“ Oh, no,” said Caroline, “Susan will do that. I hate
to put things in order.”

“Then what will you do when you are married ?” said
one of the little children. “ How will you keep your
house in order?”

“ Oh, I shall have plenty of servants to do that,” re-
plied Caroline, laughing; and so saying, she ran off out
of the room, followed by nearly all the children. Two or
three only remained. Ellen Linn was among them.

She took the seat which Caroline had left, saying,

“JT will put them in order. I shall like to do it. And
we will look at them all, as we put them back.”

In the mean time, Caroline, followed by her guests,
went to the swing. The swing was suspended between
two trees, which grew a little at one side, near the en-
trance to the garden. There was a great variety of
shrubbery around the place, so that when swinging in it
one seemed to be swinging in a bower. ‘There were seats
too, on each side of the swing, for those who were waiting
their turn. After showing her companions the swing, and
allowing those who chose to try it an opportunity of doing
so, Caroline suddenly said to those who were sitting on
the seats,

“There is a rocking-boat, girls; let us go and see the

rocking-boat.”
G2



8&4 CAROLINE.



The rocking-boat. Some account of it. Rocking in it.





“What is a rocking-boat ?” asked one of the children.

“ Oh, it is a kind of a boat to rock in,” replied Caroline.
“ Come and see it.”

A considerable number of the party immediately arose
and followed Caroline down through a winding path,
which led through a copse of shrubbery, until at length
they came to a shady nook where there was a platform,
and upon the platform, what Caroline called her rocking-
boat. It was made somewhat in the form of a boat, only
the bottom being rounded from front to back, it could be
rocked to and fro ;—not from side to side, like a cradle,
but backward and forward, like a rocking-herse.

“ Now get in,
said Caroline, “and I
will rock you.”

So the children
clambered in, and
Caroline began to
rock them. Wallace
and Livingston help-
ed her. Presently
they all got into the
boat, and went on
rocking it from with-
in. This they could
easily do by bending
their bodies back~

THE ROCKING BOAT ward and forward, as
if they were bowing to each other. Presently, Caroline
proposed that they should sing; and pitching the tune,
she led off in some simple song, which most of the com-
pany knew. She was soon joined by other voices, and

19





THE PARTY. 85
Livingston’s observations. His inquiries.

the whole company of voyagers were soon singing in
chorus, keeping time with the motion of the boat, im a
very joyous manner.

After this the company separated, and rambled for some
time around the gardens, enjoying themselves in various
ways, now seated in bowers, now walking in shady paths,
and now pursuing one another on the little grass plats
which they found here and there about the garden.
Caroline entertained them everywhere with her sprightly
conversation. She was a very beautiful girl, and as she
was dressed very prettily on this occasion, she atiracted
very general attention and regard. Livingston, as well as
all the rest, admired her beauty, her accomplishments,
and. her ready wit.

He noticed all the other girls also, who were of the
party, and without seeming to do so, he watched their
appearance and demeanour, and formed his own opinion
of their dispositions and characters from what he saw.
He did not know the names of any of the boys and girls,
however, except so, far as he learned them by accident,
or was told by Wallace. He took occasion several times,
in the course of the afternoon, to speak to Wallace aside,
in some arbour or walk, whenever he had an opportunity
for a moment’s private conversation, to ask questions
about the various persons who attracted his notice.

For instance, at one time, very soon after they came
into the garden, as the children were looking to see Uncle
Ben water some flower-beds with a little watering engine,
by means of which he was throwing the water all around
him through hose and pipe, as firemen do at a fire, Living-
ston and Wallace were standing together somewhat aside
from the rest, watching the operation. Caroline was ata



86 CAROLINE.
Augusta on the sun-dial. Wallace’s account of ENen Linn.

little distance from them, having a small child, named
Augusta, with her. She had lifted Augustaup and seated
her upon the top of a sun-dial, which stood there, in order
to enable her to see better. It was obviously a very hard
lift for Caroline, to get Augusta up. Wallace and Living-
ston did not know that she intended to do it, until it was
too late to help her.

“Caroline seems to be a very kind-hearted girl,” said
Livingston.

“Yes,” said Wallace, “ she is a very kind-hearted girl,
indeed.”

“ And who is that sedate-looking girl that we left be-
hind in the hall, putting the playthings back, when we
came out?”’

“That was Bllen Linn,’’ said Wallace.

« She is a very good girl I believe,” continued Wallace,
“though I don’t know her very much. I believe she is
not very easy to get acquainted with.”

“ Where does she live?” asked Livingston.

“ Oh, she lives in a small house on the bank of the
stream a little way below the bridge. It is a beautiful
place,”

“Ts it as beautiful as this ?” said Livingston.

“Oh no,” said Wallace, “it is not like this at all. It is
a small, plain house. But then it is in a very pretty
place, and everything is very pretty aroundit. And they
say it is all Ellen’s work.”

“ Eillen’s!” said Livingston.

“Yes,” said Wallace. “ She takes the whole care of all
her brother's and sister’s affairs, and of her mother’s too
in fact, 1 believe. Beechnut thinks she is the finest girl
in town.”



THE PARTY. 87

Livingston’s walk with Augusta. He finds Ellen.

“Then she must be a very fine girl indeed,” said. Liv-
ingston. “Nobody can judge better than Beechnut.”

Just at this time Caroline came over to where Living-
ston and Wallace were standing, and began to talk with
them; and thus the conversation between Livingston
and Wallace was interrupted. A minute or two after-
ward, Livingston, taking an opportunity when Wallace
was saying something to Caroline, turned to a little girl
who was standing near, and asked her to take a walk with
him to see some flowers. So he took the child by the
hand and walked along. He talked with his little com-
panion as he went, calling her attention to everything
curious or wonderful that he saw, until at last, after tak-
ing quite a little circuit among the paths and alleys of the
garden, he came to the gate by which they had entered.

« And now let us go into the house,” said Livingston,
“and see what they are doing in the hall.”

“ Well,” said the child.

So Livingston walked into the house leading the
child by the hand.

Ellen looked up at him as he came in with a quiet and
happy, and yet somewhat timid expression. ‘There were
four or five children of various ages with her, and they
were all engaged in examining the playthings, and put-
ting them away—Ellen superintending the operation.

“ They ought not to have left you to have all the trouble
of putting these playthings away,” said Livingston, speak-~
ing apparently to the whole group.

“ Oh we like to do it’ said Annie. “We like to do it
very much.”

« What is your name?” said Livingston.

« Annie”



88 CAROLINE.

Conversation with Annie. The broken image. Elien’s decision.

“« Annie what ?” said Livingston.

“ Annie Linn,” replied Annie.

“ And is Ellen your sister?” said Livingston, looking
toward Ellen.

«“ Yes,” said Annie, “and Rodolphus is my brother.”

Ellen looked up at Livingston with a slight expression
of surprise in her countenance. She wondered how he
came to know her name. She was pleased to find that
he knew it, and yet she did not know why. She felt a
little better acquainted with him than she had before, but
yet she did not feel enough acquainted with him to speak
to him. Livingston wished to speak to her, but he did
not speak, for he did not know what to say-

Just at this time, Annie spied among the toys an image
of a cow with only three legs. She was greatly amused
at this discovery—a cow with three legs being in her es-
timation a very funny thing. She gave it to Ellen to
look at. Livingston told her that one of the legs had
come out. He observed that the legs were formed of pegs
that were cut in the proper shape, and inserted into the
body of the cow. Annie looked for the leg, and found it
at length in the bottom of the box. She took the cow in
one hand and the leg m the other, and ran off to show
it to Caroline. In a few minutes she came back, saying
with an appearance of great delight, that Caroline had
given the cow to her.

«She says it 1s not good for anything, and that I may
have it,” said Annie, “and I mean to get Beechnut to
fasten the leg in again.”

Ellen shook her head as Annie said this, though in an
almost imperceptible manner. She lifted Annie up into
her lap and took the image out of her hand and said,



THE PARTY. 89





Livingston’s doubt and perplexity. Ellen puts up the playthings.

“ No, Annie, you can’t have it. We will put it back
in its place again.”

“Why can’t I have it, Ellen ?” asked Annie, looking
up to her with a countenance expressive of great astonish-
ment.

« You must not ask me why now,’ said Ellen. “We
will put it back in its place.”

Annie appeared very much disappointed, but she did
not speak another word.

“T wonder what the reason is,” thought Livingston to
himself, “ why she is not willing that Annie should have
the cow. Is it delicacy—because she thinks that Annie’s
carrying the cow to Caroline was in some sense asking
for it, and that a present ought not to be accepted that
seemed to be asked for,—or is it pride——because she is not
willing that her sister should depend for her happiness on
Caroline’s broken playthings? Whichever it is,” he con-
tinued, “I like her the better for it. In fact, I hope it is
pride.”

Whatever may have been Ellen’s feeling, she seemed a
little embarrassed and troubled by the occurrence. She
went to work very diligently, putting the playthings
away. Livingston was trying to think what he could do
or say to make her feel at ease again, when he heard the
voices of the children coming in from the garden. Ina
minute more they all entered the hall. They had come
in, as Caroline said, to see if tea was ready. They found
that it would not be ready for half an hour.

So after rambling about the hall a few minutes, they
all moved out into the garden again, and as by this time
Ellen had put the playthings all away, she and the
children who had been with her went too.



90 CAROLINE.







Livingston talks with Annie. Proposed walk.



CHAPTER VII.
THE END OF THE PARTY.

As the company went into the garden and began ram-
bling about in the alleys at the entrance of it, Annie stop-
ped a moment to look ata large butterfly that came flying
along near her. The butterfly had lighted upon a flower
in a border, and Annie was in the walk opposite to it,
standing with her hands behind her, and leaning forward
so as to see. Livingston came up to the place and began
to look at the butterfly too. Annie was a little afraid of
him,—of Livingston, that is to say,—not of the butterfly.

“TIT am glad you came to this party,” said Livingston.

When Annie heard Livingston say this, she was less
afraid of him than she had been before.

“T wish you would go and find Ellen,” said Livingston,
“and ask her if you may take a little walk with me
around. the garden.”

“ There is Ellen,” said Annie, pointing.

“ Well,” said Livingston, “run and ask her.”

So Annie ran toward Ellen, while Livingston remained
where he was, following her with his eyes.

Ellen stooped down to hear what Annie wished to say.
Annie made her request, and pointed back to Livingston.
Ellen raised her eyes and saw Livingston standing still
and looking toward her, with a smile upon his counte-
nance. She smiled too, and told Annie that she might



THE END OF THE PARTY. 91



Annie gets leave to go and take a walk. Coaxing.

go. So Annie ran back to Livingston and gave him her
hand, and they both then walked along together down
the central walk of the garden.

“YT amsorry that you could not have that cow,” said
Livingston. “ Why did not you coax Ellen to let you
keep it ?”

“Oh, it would not do any good to coax her,” replied
Annie, “she never will be coaxed.”

“Sometimes [ can coax Rodolphus a little,” she con-
tinued. “ And I can coax my mother.”

“And your father!” said Livingston, inquiringly,—
as if he wished to ask how it was in respect to him.

Annie looked up somewhat surprised, and said in a low
and. solemn tone,

“ My father is dead. Did not you know that my father
was dead P”

« No,” replied Livingston, “and I am very sorry to
hear it.”

“ Yes,” said Annie, “he is dead. He was frozen.”

“ Frozen!” repeated Livingston.

“Yes,” said Annie. “ He was frozen in the snow;
but I was not frozen, because I was covered up warm
with buffalos.”

“Then you have not any father to take care of you,”
said Livingston.

“No,” replied Annie. “Ellen takes care of me,—and
sometimes,” she added, after a moments pause, “my
mother takes care of me too.”

«“ And where do you live? ” asked Livingston.

“We live down beyond the mill,” said Annie. “ You
turn in bya tree. If you will come and see me some day,
I will show you my garden.”



92 CAROLINE.



Annie gives Livingston a great deal of information. The winding path.



“Have you got a garden? ” said Livingston.

“Yes,” said Annie. “Ellen made it for me,—only
Rodolphus dug up the ground. I raked it myself, and
Ellen helped me plant the seeds.”

Talking in this manner, Livingston and Annie passed
entirely through the garden, and came, at length, to a
gate, which led out into a field beyond. It was the same
gate that Caroline, Malleville, and Phonny had gone
through, in commencing their walk, on the day when they
were out in the shower.

“Where does this gate lead to? ” asked Livingston.

“Qh it leads to a path,” said Annie.

“ And where does the path lead to P” asked Livingston.

“Tt leads to a brook,” replied Annie.

“ Let us go and see,” said Livingston.

So Livingston opened the gate, and he and Annie went
through.

The path led by a winding way through a thicket, down
to the brook. Livingston saw some flowers growing near
a small heap of sticks and brushwood. He stepped out of
the path to gather them. In doing so, he happened to ob-
serve a small crooked stem of a bush, with four crooked
branches growing out from it, in such a manner as to pre-
sent some rude resemblance to a cow. At least there was
resemblance enough to suggest the form of Caroline's toy
cow to Livingston’s mind. So he took out his knife and
cut off the part of the stem which had attracted his
attention.

“What are you going to do with that?” said Annie.

“1 thought that perhaps I could make a cow of it for
you,” replied Livingston.

So saying he held the rude image wp, for Annie to



Full Text


Aw oe a _
MELE ha pn EO Le

Zs ee. Lo yp A Zo exe
(7 22 4A
eo

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Bt Sok,
Bp bes
IP Niow
RIN IER AR
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A Franeomsa Store, |
BY JACOB ABBOTT. !

f Srrond ENnition.














LONDON :
WARD AND CO., 27, PATERNOSTER ROW.


ENGLISH COPYRIGHT.

JOHN CHILDS AND SON, BUNGAY.
PREFACE.



Tue development of the moral sentiments in the human
heart, im early life.—and everything in fact which relates to
the formation of character,—is determined in a far greater de-
gree by sympathy, and by the influence of example, than by
formal precepts and didactic instruction. If a boy hears his
father speaking kindly to a robin in the spring,——welcoming its
coming and offering it food,—there arises at once in his own
mind a feeling of kindness toward the bird, and toward all the
animal creation, which is produced by a sort of sympathetic
action, a power somewhat similar to what in physical philoso-
phy is called tzduction. On the other hand, if the father, in~
stead of feeding the bird, goes eagerly for a gun, in order that
he may shoot it, the boy will sympathize in that desire, and
growing up under such an influence, there will be gradually
formed within him, through the mysterious tendency of the
youthful heart to vibrate in unison with hearts that are near,
a disposition to kill and destroy all helpless beings that come
within his power. There is no need of any formal instruction
in either cage. Of a thousand children brought up under the
former of the above-described imfluences, nearly every one,
when he sees a bird, will wish to go and get crumbs to feed it ;
while in the latter case, nearly every one will just as certainly
e

Vi PREFACE.

look for a stone. Thus the growing up in the right atmosphere,
rather than the receiving of the right instruction, is the condi-
tion which it is most important to secure, in plans for forming
the characters of children.

It is in accordance with this philosophy that these stories,
though written mainly with a view to their moral influence on
the hearts and dispositions of the readers, contain very little
formal cxhortation and instruction. They present quiet and
peaceful pictures of happy domestic life, portraying generally
such conduct, and expressing such sentiments and- feelings, as it
is desirable to exhibit and express in the presence of children.

The books, however, will be found, perhaps, after all, to be
useful mainly in entertaining and amusing the youthful readers
who may peruse them, as the writing of them has been the
amusement and recreation cf the author in the intervals of
more serious pursuits.
CONTENTS.



CHAPTER PAGE
I.—-THE PRESENTS .« . . . - . - I
JI.— PHONNY’S LETTER . : . : . 14
TII.— roe walk . . . . - . - 380
IV.—a vovaGe : . - . : - : AS
V.—BEECHNUT’S RETURN . . . . . - 60
VI.—THE PARTY - . . 7 . - - 76
VII.—rHE END OF THE PARTY .- . . - - 90
VIIT.—sasePer . : : - . . . - 106
IN.—PLANS FORMED ‘ ® . . 7 - 120
X.—THE BLUEBERRY PARTY .- . 7 : - 134
ENGRAVINGS.
PAGE PACE
FRONTISPIECE. TIE SIGNAL . - o2
THE PARCEL . . A FORDING . . ’ 73
THE BOAT 7 . 12 | THE ROCKING BOAT . 8-l
THE RASPBERRIES . 26 | THE STORY-LELLING LOL
THE REYUGE . . 39 | CAROLINE AND TIGL Boys 121

SCLYING OFT . - 48 | Tre RELUSAL . , 1-42
SCENE OF THE STORY.
AMERICA.

Franconia, a place among the mountains at the North.
The time is summer.

PRINCIPAL PERSONS.

CaROLINE, the daughter of Mr. Keep, a lawyer in the village.

Mrs. Henry, a lady residing in a pleasant house on the bank
of the river, near the village.

MALLEVILLE, seven or eight years old, Mrs. Henry’s niece.

Puonny, nine or ten years old, Mrs. Henry’s son.

Bexrcunor, a French boy, so called, at service at Mrs. Henry’s.
His name properly is Antoine Bianchinette.

WaLxacek, a college student, Malleville’s brother, spending his
vacation at Mrs. Henry’s.

Livinesron, Wallace’s classmate, visiting at Franconia.

Mary Bex, about thirteen years old, a friend of Malleville,
residing at a little distance from Mrs. Henry’s.

ELven Linn, a friend of Mary Bell. She is the sister of Ro-
dolphus.
CAROLINE.

CHAPTER I.

THE PRESENTS.



Malleville and Phonny go out to take a walk. Rule of polite society.

ONE pleasant summer evening, about an hour before
sunset, Phonny and Malleville came out of the great gate
in front of Phonny’s house, to take a walk.

“ Let us go down to the river,” said Malleville.

There was a river very near Mrs. Henry’s house, and
a pleasant path leading down to it through a field.

<< No,’ said Phonny, “let us go along the road.”

“If we go down by the river,” said Malleville, “ we can
get: some flowers.’’

“And if we go by the road, we shall meet the stage
coming in,” said Phonny. ‘“ That’s a great deal better
than getting flowers.”

Malleville yielded. That was right. It was proper
that she should yield. The rule of polite society is, that
the gentleman ought always to be ready and willing, of
his own accord, to consult the wishes of the lady, in a
question of this sort, and to govern himself by them.
But when he forgets himself so far as to disregard the

B
2 CAROLINE.

Talk about Beechnut. Malleville’s mistake. Phonny greatly amused.

lady’s wishes, and. insist upon his own, then it is the duty
of the lady not to contend, but to submit readily and
gracefully to the necessity of the case. This, Malleville
did, in the present instance. She said no more about
the flowers, but walked with Phonny along the road.

“T wish that Beechnut would come home,” said Phonny.
“ Or rather I wish he never would go away at all.”

Beechnut had gone to the city of Boston, and was to
be absent about ten days. He had now been gone
about three days, and Phonny was very lonesome with-
out him.

“You will see the prettiest horse, when the stage
comes,” said Phonny, “ that there is in all this country.
{t is an off leader.”

Maleville made a very great mistake in understanding
this expression. She thought Phonny had said that the
horse was an awful eater.

“An awful eater!” she replied, gravely, “ what does
he eat? ”

Here Phonny burst into a loud and uncontrollable fit
of laughtet, while Malleville continued to look very grave,
and even somewhat perplexed and distressed. She did
not know what Phonny was laughing at. Phonny, how-
ever, could not control himself sufficiently to explain, but
lay down upon the grass by the roadside, and rolled over
and over, repeating, in the intervals of his paroxysm,

“ An awful eater |'—Oh dear me!”

“ Phonny!” said Malleville, very sternly, “you shal?
vot laugh so much. You must get up.”

At that moment, Malleville, looking along the road,
saw horses’ heads just coming into view at a turn, and
heard the sound of wheels, so she added,
THE PRESENTS. 3





The stage. Parcel for Phonny. Description of the package.







«“ And besides, here is the stage coming now, and you
will get run over.”

Hearing this, Phonny jumped up and sobered himself
in an instant. The stage-cpach was really coming.

It advanced very rapidly. Phonny and Malleville
stood out on one side of the road to let it go by. ‘There
was a lady and a small boy on the outside seat of the
stage, with the driver, and Phonny’s attention was at-
tracted by them, so that he forgot to point out the off
leader to Malleville, until the stage got opposite to him,
and then he was surprised at seeing the driver suddenly
rein up his horses and stop the stage.

“ Phonny,” said the driver, “is that you? I have got
something for you here.”

“For me?” said Phonny, surprised.

The driver put his hand under the seat and drew out
a small package, whieh was tied up very securely in
brown paper. He threw the package out to the bank
where Phonny was standing.

“Tt is all paid,” said he.

Then he drove on.

Phonny ran to the place where the package had fallen,
and took it up- Malleville followed him.

“ Tet me see,” said she. “ Whatis it?”

The package was about eight inches long, four inches
wide, and, perhaps, two inches thick. It was enveloped in
thick wrapping-paper, and tied with a strong cord, which
was passed round the parcel in both directions. ‘The knot
of the cord was sealed with sealing-wax, and the cord itself
was secured to the paper by sealing-wax in two or three
other places besides. In fact, the whole appearance of

BZ
4 CAROLINE.



The address of the package.





the parcel seemed to indicate that it contained something
very valuable. It was addressed on the back, in a very
plain hand,

Miss Malleville Henry,
Care of Master Alphonso Henry,

Franconia.

On the left hand upper corner was written the word
Parp, with a black line drawn under it.







THE PARCEL
THE PRESENTS. 5

Opening it. The cord. No knife. The box. Beechnut’s note.



“Tt is for you, after all,” said Phonny, looking a little
disappointed.

“ Yes,” said Malleville, “ give it tome. I want to break
it open, and see what is inside.”

«“ Let me open it for you,” said Phonny. “I can open
it’ better.”

“No,” replied Malleville, « I want to open it myself,—
if you will only get the string off.”

So Malleville and Phonny sat down upon a large stone,
which lay by the side of the road, and proceeded to open
the parcel.

Phonny had no knife to cut the cord, and so he was
obliged to gnaw it off with his teeth. This took some
time. Phonny handed back the parcel to Malleville.

Malleville proceeded to remove the wrappers with
which the contents of the parcel were enveloped. After
a time, there came out a large and beautiful japanned
tin box. It was rounded at the end and edges, and it
had a large lid in one side. Malleville opened the lid, and
found the box full of other parcels, and immediately
under the lid, as they opened it, was a note addressed to
Malleville. Malleville opened the note, and Phonny
looked at the bottom of it for the signature.

“ Beechnut,”’ said he. “It is from Beechnut. Let me
read it to you, Malleville.”

“ Well,” said Malleville.

So Phonny took the note and read as follows :-—

“My DEAR MALLEVILLE :
“ T send you what I call an Excursion-box. It
i to take with you when you go on excursions. You
6 CAROLINE.



Ribbon. The rest of the note. The pocket-knife. Blades.

wrap up your cake, or your bread and butter, or what-
ever you have for your luncheon, in a paper, and put it in
your box when you go, and then, after ‘you have eaten
your luncheon, you use your box to put flowers, or mosses,
or berries in, when you come home. The most conveni-
ent way to carry it, is to hang it by the ribbon over your
shoulder. You put the ribbon through the rings.”

“But I have not got any ribbon,” said Malleville, in-
terrupting.

“ Every day,” continued Phonny, reading, “ when you
have done using your box, you must see that it is clean
and dry, before you put it away.’’

“Yes,” said Malleville, “I will.”

“Or else,” said Phonny, still reading from the note,

“it will grow rusty insjde. Please give Phonny his
BEECHNUY.”

parcel.

“ Where is it ?” said Phonny, eagerly. ‘“ Let me see.”

So saying, he teok out one of the parcels from the in-
side of the box, and found to his great joy that his name
was written on the back of it.

On opening this package, it was found to contain
something solid in the centre, with a smaller and thinner
parcel wrapped around it. The central portion proved
to be a pocket-knife. ‘The knife had a very smooth and
beautiful handle, and two very brilliant blades. One of
these blades was large, and the other small. They both
opened very easily. Phonny opened the large one first,
and then the small one. The blades were very highly
THE PRESENTS. 17.

Phonny’s note. The bandages, Phonny reads his note.

polished, and the point of the small blade was as sharp
as a needle. Phonny uttered several exclamations of
delight, and then shut the blades up again. In the mean
time, a note addressed to Phonny had dropped out, and
had fallen down upon the grass. Malleville picked it up
and held itin her hand. Phonny was not, however, yet
ready to read it. He wished first to open the small and
thin envelope which had been wrapped round the knife.

He found it contained a long and narrow linen rag, in
the form of a bandage, very’ neatly folded up, and also a
sheet of court-plaster. Phonny looked very much sur-
prised to see these things, and then opened his note to
get an explanation. He read as follows :—

“DEAR PHONNY,
“T send herewith a new knife for you, and also
a bandage and some court-plaster for your cut fingers.
For small cuts the court-plaster will do, but when you go
in to the bone, I would recommend holding your finger in
cold water awhile, and then doing it up with the bandage.
“ Yours, affectionately,
“ BEECHNUT.”

«P.S. You need not be afraid of this knife, for it is
very sharp, and so will make clean cuts, that will heal

very easily.”

‘¢ Nonsense,” said Phonny. “I don’t mean to cut my
fingers at all with the knife.”

There was still one more small parcel to open. Tt was
addressed to Malleville. Malleville opened it and found
a long blue ribbon inside. ‘The ribbon was pretty wide
8 CAROLINE.

Phonny and Malleville set out to go home. They meet Caroline.



and very strong, and Malleville knew at once that it was
intended for her box. So she wrapped it up again in
the paper and put it back in the box, saying, that she
meant to go home and show it to her aunt. She rose
from her seat, and taking her box under her arm, she
went into the road. Phonny followed her. He put his
court-plaster and bandage into his pocket, but he kept the
knife in his hands,—opening and shutting the blades, and
examining it carefully in every part, as he walked along.

“Tt is the very best knife I ever had,” said he.

Phonny and Maleville walked along toward the house,
very much pleased with their presents, and both im-
patient to show them to Mrs. Henry. Presently, Malle-
ville saw a girl coming into view in the road, at a con-
siderable distance before them.

“There comes somebody,” said she. “I wish it was
Mary Bell.”

“Tt is Mary Bell,” said Phonny, “I verily believe.”

“ No,” said Malleville, “it is Caroline Keep. I can
see the feather in her bonnet.”

Caroline had a very pretty blue bonnet, with a white
feather hanging over it gracefully, like a plume.

In a short time the three children came together.

“ Caroline,” said Phonny, “we have got some presents
from Beechnut ; come and see them.”

So the children walked out to the side of the road, and
sat down upon the green bank to look at the presents.

«“ Where is Beechnut ?” said Caroline.

“He has gone away,” said Phonny. “He has been
gone several days, and he is going to be gone nearly a
week longer.”

“ How sorry I am!” said Caroline.
THE PRESENTS. 9





Talk about the party. Mary Bell. Her mother sick.



“ Why ?” asked Phonny.

“ Because I was going to have a party,” replied Caro-
line, “and I wanted him to come.”

“Oh never mind,” said Phonny, “ you can have your
party without him.”

“But I want him to be there very much,” said Caro-
line. “He always makes us have such a good time. Be-
sides, I am afraid Mary Bell can’t come.”

“When was your party going to be ?” asked Malleville.

“<'To-morrow,” said Caroline.

Caroline then went on to explain, that she had been to
invite Mary Bell, but that Mrs. Bell was sick, and it was
doubtful whether Mary could come.

“Ts she very sick ?” said Malleville.

“No,” said Caroline, “ when I went there, she was sit~
ting up in a great easy chair. She said that Mary Bell
might come, but Mary came out with me afterward to the
door, when I came away, and told me that she did not
believe that she could come, for she did not think that
her mother would be well enough to be left alone.

“T have just been to your house, to invite you,’’ con-
tinued Caroline, “ but now that Beechnut is not at home,
and Mary Bell cannot come, I don’t know whether to
have any party or not.”

“ Yes,” said Phonny, “I would have it; Malleville and
¥ can come.”

In the mean time, while this conversation had been
going on, Phonny and Malleville had opened their pre-
sents, and were now ready to show them to Caroline.
Caroline looked at them with a great deal of interest.
She did not say much about the knife, except that it
looked like a very good one. She laughed at what was
10 CAROLINE.



Maneville likes her presents. More talk about the party.





written in the note about the court-plaster and the rag,
and about Phonny’s cutting his fingers, and said that it
sounded just like Beechnut.

When she came to look at Malleville’s excursion-box,
she examined it carefully inside and out, but she seemed
to be only moderately pleased with it.

“T presume it will be very convenient,” said she,—.
“but I think he might have sent you something prettier
than that. stone in it, might have been bought with the same
money, and how pretty it would have looked upon your
finger !”

Malleville held up her finger, and tried to tmagine
bow such a ring as Caroline described would have looked
upon it.

“No,” said Malleville, “I like my excursion-box a
great deal better than I should a ring.”

“Well,” said Caroline. “Every one has their own
taste, and I am very glad you are pleased.”

So saying, Caroline arose from her seat and began to
walk out toward the road, as if she were going on her

way.
“And what about the party, Caroline?” said Malle-

ville.
“Why, I think I shall put off my party till Beechnut
comes back,” said Caroline, “but still I wish that you and
Phonny would come and see me to-morrow.”
“Well,” said Phonny, “we will.”
“If Aunt Henry will let us,” said Malleville.
“ Oh, she will let us, I know,” said Phonny.
“ Yes,’ said Caroline, “ and come as early as you can.”
Here Caroline began to walk along the road in the
THE PRESENTS. ll



Phonny tries his knife by cutting a fishing-pole.



way that led to the village. Phonny and Malleville, on
the other hand, turned toward their own home, Malle-
ville singing as she went, from a song which Beechnut

had taught her, the lines,

“* Come as early as you can,
And stay till after tea.”’

On the way home Phonny went into a thicket by the
road-side to try his knife, by cutting a tall and slender
stem which he saw growing there, and which he thought
would make a good fishing-pole. Malleville waited for
him at the edge of the thicket. There were some wild
flowers growing there, and Malleville amused herself,
while waiting for Phonny, in gathering these flowers,
and she had a great mind to put them in her box. She
concluded, however, on reflection, that she would not put
anything into her box until she had first shown it to her
aunt Henry.

When Phonny had cut his pole, which he did very
easily, for his knife was very sharp, he brought it out
into the road, and after trimming off the branches and
the top, he began to walk along with Malleville as before.

The road in which Phonny and Matleville were walk-
ing Jed them at one point pretty near the river. When
the children arrived at this place, they looked out upon
the water and saw a boat there with two boys in it.
The boys appeared to be fishing. One of them hada
pole. The other was fishing with a line alone, which
he held somewhat conveniently, over the gunwale of
the boat.

The water was smooth and clear, and the evening
air was calm and still, so that the boat made a beautiful
12 CAROLINE.

Rodolphus. Pole wanted.

Two boys a fishing.

appearance as she
lay floating in the
stream. The form
of the boat itself, and.
also those of the boys-
were very plainly re-
flected in the glassy
surface of the water
below. Phonny could
even see the reflec-
tion of the fishing-
pole which one of
the boys held in the
air.

The boy who had
Serena 9 no pole looked up

from his fishing, and when he saw Phonny and Malle-
ville on the shore, he called out,

“ Halloa! Phonny.”
“ FWalloa! Dolphin,” said Phonny.
“ Who is that? ” said Malleville, in an under-tone to

Phonny.
“ Rodolphus Linn,” said Phonny.
“Ts that Rodolphus ?” said Malleville. “He used to

work at our house once.”
“ Yes,” said Phonny, “in haying time. Now he works

in the mill.”
‘“ Phonny,” said Rodolphus, calling again, “what is

that you have got?”
“A fishing-pole,” said Phonny. “TI have just cut it.”

“ Give it to me, and I will give you some pond-lilies,”
said Rodolphus.




THE PRESENTS. 13

~



Bargain for the fishing-pole. Six lilies. Malleville carries home her box.



“TI wish you would,’ said Malleville, speaking to
Phonny, “and then give me one of the pond-llies.”’

«“ Have you got any pond-lilies ? ” said Phonny, calling
to Rodolphus.

“ Yes,” said Rodolphus.

“ And how many will you give me?” asked Phonny.

“ Three,” said Rodolphus—“or six. I don’t care if I
give you six.”

Here Malleville clapped her hands.

« Well,” said Phonny, “come ashore and get the pole.”

So Phonny went down to the beach. 'The boys drew
in their fishing-lines, and pushed the boat toward the
shore. As soon as they were near enough, Phonny
reached out the pole and Rodolphus took itin. Imme-
diately afterward Rodolphus selected six pond-lilies,-and
threw them out to Phonny on the sand.

Phonny gave two of the pond-lilies to Malleville, and
Malleville was very much gratified at receiving them.
She was now more inclined than ever to open her box,
knowing how safely her lies could be stowed in it, by
putting the heads of the lilies in first, in the centre of the
box, and then coiling the stems around them. She,
however, concluded to persevere in her original design of
carrying home her box and showing it to her aunt in the
condition precisely in which she first received it. So she
walked home with Phonny, carrying her box in one hand,
and her lilies in the other. The flowers which she had
gathered herself, she now no longer prized since she had
obtained the lilies, and so she threw them away.
14 CAROLINE.



The knife and the excursion-box.

Proposed visit to Caroline.

a

CHAPTER II.

PHONNY’S LETTER.

Tue children were always very impatient to have Beech-
nut come home, whenever he went away, and on this oc-
casion it happened that Phonny brought him home two
days sooner than Beechnut intended to come. It is
curious also to observe, that Phonny caused Beechnut to
come home sooner than he had intended without himself
designing to produce any such effect. The event hap-
pened in the following singular manner.

The children obtained Mrs. Henry’s permission to go
and visit Caroline, according to the invitation which they
had received, and they set off together at’ two o’clock on
the afternoon of the appointed day, and walked along on
the road. toward the village, full of anticipations of plea-
sure. Phonny had his new knife in his pocket, and
Malleville had her excursion-box hanging from her neck
by its ribbon. The box had an excellent luncheon in-
side. When Malleville first proposed to put the luncheon
in, Mrs. Henry suggested to her that it was not quite in
accordance with the customs of polite society, to carry a
supply of food in going a visiting; but Maleville was so
desirous of putting her box at once to its destined use,
that Mrs. Henry waived her objection, and the luncheon

ras putin. It consisted of two apple turnovers and two

pieces of cheese.
PHONNY’S LETTER. 15







Description of Mr. Keep’s house. The summer-houses. The hail.



The house where Caroline lived was in the village. It
was a large and handsome house, with a beautiful yard
in front, containing trees and shrubbery, with gravel
walks, bordered with beds of flowers, winding among
them. On one side of the house there was a wing, which
contained Mr. Keep’s office; for Mr. Keep, Caroline’s
father, was a lawyer. There was a door of entrance to
this office in front, with a path leading to it from the
road, where there’was a small gate, by which Mr. Keep’s
clients were accustomed to come in. There was also a
passage leading to the office from the house.

The wing was on the north side of the house, and on
the south side there was a great gate, and a road-way
which led in to the barns and sheds behind. There was
also a large garden, with flowers and fruits growing in it
in great profusion, and two summer-houses covered with
vines. ‘These vines were, however, only for shade, as the
climate. was altogether too cold in Franconia for grapes to
ripen.

When Phonny and Malleville arrived at Mr. Keep’s,
Caroline amused them, for some time, in conducting
them about the yards and gardens, and then brought
them into the house. She took them first into what she
called the hall, which was a long room in the back part
of the house, very comfortably and. pleasantly furnished,
and used in the winter evenings as a family sitting-room.
It was in this hall that the children were accustomed to
play at blind man’s buff, and other similar games, at
Caroline’s parties. After looking about this hall for some
time, and seeing the books and playthings which were
stored im various desks and secretaries about the room,
the children went on, under Caroline’s guidance, to the
is CAROLINE.



The office. Plans for playing in the office. A school.

office. In going into the office, they passed through a
small passage-way, which lay between the hall and the
office, and which had a window in it, that looked out
upon a pleasant piazza behind the house.

“My father has gone away,’’ said Caroline, “and so
we will go and play in his office a little while.”

The children went into the office, and after looking
about in it for some time, Caroline went and took her
seat in a great arm-chair, which stood by a window at the
end of the room, saying :

“Now we will play lawyer. I will be the lawyer, and
you shall be my clients. You must come with some
business for me to do.”

This plan for play did not, however, succeed very
well. Neither Maleville nor Phonny knew how clients
were accustomed to act, or what they used to say when
they came in to see their lawyers. At last, Caroline pro-
posed that they should play school instead.

“TI will be the teacher,” said Caroline, “and you shall
be my two scholars.”

Caroline had a double reason, in fact, for proposing to
play school. She had found a very entertaining book on
the office-table, and wished to read it; and she con-
cluded that by setting Phonny and Malleville at their
studies they would be kept still a little while, and she
could sit In the great arm-chair and read undisturbed.

“ Now,” said Caroline, “ you are my scholars. I must
give you some names. Your name,” said she, pointing
to Phonny, “ is ”—

Flere Caroline hesitated, and seemed to be trying to
think of a name.

“ Bronk,” said she, at last, “ your name_ shall be

ronk.”
PHONNY’S LETTER. 17



Caroline’s instructions to her scholars. Phonny is to write a letter.





“That is not a good name,” said Phonny.

“Yes,” said Caroline, “ Bronk is a good name fora
bad boy. I am going to play that, you are a bad boy.”

“And your name,” added Caroline, turning to Malle-
ville, “ shall be—, let me see—~Eldoranda. Now re-
member.”

“Oh dear me!” said Malleville, with a sigh, “I can’t
remember such a long name,—nor speak it.”

“ But you won’t have to speak it,” said Caroline. “ No-
body has to speak their own name. All you have to do,
is, when I call you by that name to come. If I call you
Malleville, you need not pay any attention to it at all.”

“ Well,” said Malleville.

« And now, Bronk,” said Caroline, “ yow are to write,
and Eldoranda is to read. You are to write a composi-
tion.”

“Oh no,” said Phonny. “I don’t like to write a com-
position.”

“'Then it shall be a letter,” said Caroline. “ You shall
write a letter to Beechnut. We will play that your mo-
ther’s house took fire last night, and burned up, and that
you are writing to Beechnut to give an account of it, and
to tell him to come home. You must make up some way
for the house to take fire, while I am going to get a book
for Eldoranda.”

So Caroline brought a great chair up to a desk which
stood in a corner of the room, where she said her father
always wrote his letters. She put two great law books in
the chair, to make it higher for Phonny. She also gave
him a sheet of paper and a pen.

“ There,” said she, “that is where my father writes his

¢
18 CAROLINE.



Uncle Ben. Account of the safe. Phonny begins his work.



letters. When they are written he puts them on the safe,
and Uncle Ben carries them to the post-office.”

Uncle Ben, as Caroline called him, was an old man
who worked for Mr. Keep, and who was accustomed to
go to the post-office for him. Mr. Keep called him Ben-
jamin, and sometimes Mr. Short. His real name was
Benjamin Short. Caroline, however, and the children,
generally were accustomed to call him Uncle Ben.

“ Which is the safe?” said Phonny.

Caroline pointed toward the door, and there, by the
side of the door, was what appeared to be a sort of cup-
board, painted black, with bands and rivets of iron all
around it. There was nothing on the safe at the time
that Caroline showed it to Phonny, but she said that her
father was accustomed to put letters and parcels of all
kinds upon it, for Uncle Ben to carry away.

“Tt is all made of iron,” said Caroline.

So Phonny went to the safe and put his hand upon it.
It felt very solid and heavy, and was also very cold.

“ What is there in it?” asked Phonny.

“« Money,” said Caroline.

“My!” said Phonny. “I wish Z had a safe full of
money.”

“ Now, Eldoranda,” said Caroline, “we will go out into
the hall and find a book for you to read.”

So Caroline and Malleville went out into the hall,
while Phonny went back to his desk and mounted up on
the seat which Caroline had provided for him. Then
resting his elbows on the desk before him, and his chin
on his hands, he set himself at work contriving some in-
genious way for setting his mother’s house on fire.
PHONNY’S LETTER. 19



Caroline takes her place in the arm-chair. The clock. The minute hand.

In a short time Caroline and Malleville came back.
Malleville had three or four picture-books in her hand.
Caroline gave Malleville a seat upon a stool near one of
the front windows, and then. taking her own book from
the table, she went and established herself comfortably in
her great arm-chair. She found a stool, too, to put her
feet upon. When all was thus ready she said,

“ Now, children, you have got your work before you;
and you must work half an hour without speaking a word.
If you do not speak a word and do your lessons well, I
shall give you both an apple. Butif you play, then I
shall not give you any apple, nor let you have any
recess.”

So Caroline opened her book and began to read.

“ Ffow shall we know when the half-hour is out ?” said
Phonny.

“ besides, you can look at the clock.”

So saying Caroline pointed to a clock which hung
upon the wall by the side of the door which led from the
office into the house.

“Do you see the minute hand ?”

« Which is the minute hand?” said Malleville.

«The longest one,” said Caroline, “the one that points
wp. The minute hand is exactly up now, and that means
that it is three o’clock. When the minute hand points
down, then it will be half an hour. You can look up
from your studies now and then and see.”

After this the room was very still for some time.
Phonny seemed to be very busy with his writing, and
Malleville was absorbed in her books.

In about ten minutes, the attention of the school, both

ce 2
20 CAROLINE.

age

A visitor. Conversation with the client. Phonny is tired.



teacher and pupils, was suddenly attracted by a knock-
ing at the door. It sounded as if some one were knock-
ing on the door with a stick.

“ Come in,” said Caroline.

The door opened very slowly, and a man looked in.
He was dressed in a sort of cartman’s frock, and he had a
long whip in his hand. In fact it was with the handle of
this whip that he had knocked at the door.

« Ah,” said he, as he looked around the room and saw
that there were only children there. “The squire is
not in.”

“ No, sir,” said Caroline. “He is gone away. Could
I do the business do you think ?”

The man smiled and said, No——he was afraid not.

“ My father is coming home just before tea,” said Caro-
line.

“ Then I will come in again,” replied the man. So say-
ing he shut the door and withdrew.

“ Children,” said Caroline, “I am glad to see that you
behave so well when company comes in. It gives me a
great deal of satisfaction.”

As Caroline said this in a perfectly grave and sober
manner, Phonny and Malleville took it apparently in
serious earnest, and both resumed their studies.

In about twenty minutes Phonny laid down his pen and
drew a long sigh. Caroline looked up from her book.
She turned her eyes first to Phonny and then to the clock.
She pointed to the clock, then put her finger on her lips,
and resumed her reading. Phonny perceiving that ten
minutes of his time were still remaining, took up his pen
again, and soon afterwards resumed his writing.

At length the halfhour expired. The party were all,
PHONNY’S LETTER. 21



The time expires. Phonny begins to read his letter. Phonny’s letter.





however, very busy, and several minutes elapsed before
either of them spoke.

At length Caroline shut up her book, rose from her
chair, and said,

“Come, children, the school is done,——or at least it is
time for the recess.”

“Wait a minute,” said Phonny, “just till I sign my
name.”

“ Yes,” said Malleville, “and by that time I shall get
through this book; there are only four leaves more.”

So Malleville and Phonny continued their studies a
few minutes longer. Then Phonny wished to read his
letter aloud to Caroline. Caroline said that she should
be glad to hear it. She accordingly went to the desk.
Malieville came up too. Phonny read as follows:

“FRANCONIA, Wednesday Morning.

“ DEAR BEECHNUT,

“Tam now at Mr. Keep’s. I have got to write
to you about our house burning up last night. The
way it took fire was this. JI went up with Malleville
into the garret in the evening to get a piece of string
off my kite-twine. I unwound as much as I wanted,
and then, as I had not any knife or scissors, I burned
it off with the lamp. Then Malleville and I came down-
stairs.

“ By and by, when it was time for me to go to bed,
and I went up-stairs with Hepzibah, she smelled some-
thing burning. She opened a closet, and there she saw
sparks and embers dropping down from a place above,
where the fire had burned through. The garret was all
on fire. We ran down-stairs calling fire, and the men
22 CAROLINE.



Caroline is pleased with it. Phonny folds up his letter.



came, but they could not put it out. It burnt the house
all down and one of the barns.

“My half-hour is not quite out, and so I will tell you,
beside, that the men saved the other barn with wet
blankets. We want you to come home as soon as you
can.

“ Your affectionate friend,
“ AtpHONZO HENRY.”

When Phonny had finished reading the letter, he
looked up to Caroline with a smile. Caroline said that
it was a very good letter indeed.

“ And now, Bronk,” said Caroline, “ you may fold up
your letter and seal it, and put Beechnut’s name on the
outside, and then you may come out to play. Eldoranda
and I will go out now and get the playthings ready.”

So Phonny proceeded to fold and address his letter,
while Caroline and Malleville went away. Phonny liked
to fold and seal letters, for Beechnut had taught him to
do it, and he could do it well.

Caroline and Malleville went out through the hall into
the yard, and from the yard they went into the garden.
They met Mr. Short there wheeling away weeds in a
wheel-barrow. He was a small man, and bowed down
by age.

“Uncle Ben,” said Caroline, “TI have a great mind to
go and take a ride this afternoon, with Phonny and
Mateville.”

“ Yes,” said Mr. Short, “it is a very pleasant after-
noon.”

There was a horse in Mr. Keep’s barn that Caroline
had the privilege of using whenever she wished to take
PHONNY’S LETTER. 23
Caroline’s white horse. Talk with Mr. Short. Letter left on the table.

a ride. The horse was very gentle, and Caroline could
drive him. He was a large, white horse, and very strong,
though he would not go very fast.

“It is a very pleasant afternoon for a ride,” said Caro-
line, “ only there are some clouds in the sky. Perhaps
there will be a shower.”

So saying, Caroline pointed to the west, where there
was a gathering of clouds. The clouds were piled up in
round masses, white above and dark below.

“ Perhaps it will be pleasanter to walk,” said Caroline.
“TJ have been riding a great deal lately, and I am rather
tired. of riding.”

« Just as you please,” said Mr. Short.

“YT wish Phonny was here,” said Caroline, “and we
would ask him. Why does he not come?”

“T will go and call him,” said Malleville.

So saying, Malleville ran off toward the house, leaving
Caroline with Mr. Short in the garden.

Malleville went into the office, and on her arrival there
she found that Phonny had sealed his letter and ad-
dressed it, and was now waiting for the writing to dry.
Malleville told him that Caroline wanted to see him in
the garden about taking a ride. So Phonny rose from
his desk, and leaving his letter there, went out. Malle-
ville remained a moment to look at the letter.

Malleville could not read the writing on the back of
the letter, for Beechnut’s name being, when written out
in full, Antoine Bianchinette, was very hard to read.
The name Boston, too—the place where Beechnut was—
was written below, which made the superscription of the
letter still more complicated. Malleville looked at it all
for a minute or two with a very studious air, and. then said,
24 CAROLINE.



ee

Malleville’s difficulty. Caroline proposes to have some raspberries.



“TI suppose it means Beechnut, and now I will put it
on the safe.”

So saying, she took up the letter, carried it to the safe,
and deposited it there where Caroline said her father
always put his letters, when he had written them. Hav-
ing done this, Malleville ran off into the garden again, to
find Caroline and Phonny.

She found them walking along together, in a pleasant
path with apple-trees and pear-trees on either side, some
growing by themselves and some trained on trellises.
Malleville- walked along with them. Presently they came
to a little grass plat, with a summer-house beyond it.
The summer-house was almost enveloped in shrabbery.

Caroline led the children into the summer-house, and
there they all sat down upon a bench.

“T wish the apples and pears were ripe,” said Caroline,
“and then I would give you some.”

“Yes,” said Malleville, “and you promised us an.apple.”

“True,” said Caroline, “but they are not ripe yet.
There are plenty of raspberries, however, if you would

like some.”
Phonny and Malleville both said that they should

like some raspberries very much.

So Caroline led them back to where the old gardener
was at work.

“Uncle Ben,” said she, “I wish you would go mto the
house and bring me out alittle sugar and cream. We are
going to have some raspberries.”

«And Malleville,” continued Caroline, “ you may go
with him and bring us out a tm mug to put the rasp-
berries in when we are gathering them.”

So Malleville and Uncle Ben went away together, and
PHONNY’S LETTER. 25

The tin mug. The rustic table. Supports.



Caroline and Phonny proceeded to another part of the
garden, where the raspberry bushes were. This place was
in a remote part of the garden, round beyond a little grove,
formed by a nursery of young apple-trees. The place was
so secluded that Malleville, when she returned, could not
see, at first, where Caroline and Phonny had gone. So
she called them—very loud. Caroline answered, and
thus Malleville found out where they were.

Caroline directed the children not to eat any of the
raspberries which they gathered, but to put them all into
the tin mug. By pursuing this course, the mug began to
fill up very fast, for the raspberries were very large, and
the bushes were heavily laden with them. At last the
mug was full.

“ Now,” said Caroline, “ we will go to my stone table.”

So saying, she went out from among the rows of rasp-
berry bushes and entered a broad alley. Phonny and
Malleville followed. her. Caroline led the way along one
alley after another, until at length she came to a sort of
corner, where, under a little grove of lilac-bushes, there
was a seat, with a large flat stone before it, like a table.
The flat stone was supported at a convenient height to
serve the purpose of a table, by means of square blocks of
stone placed beneath it, one at each end. These stones
were more or less irregular in form, being all in the
natural state in which they had been found im the
pastures, though the upper surface of the table-stone was
very flat, and quite smooth.

The seat at this rustic place of entertainment was of
stone, as well as the table. It was a dark, smooth stone,
oblong in form, and somewhat convex on the upper side.
26 CAROLINE.



got

Preparations made by Uncle Ben. The raspberries and cream.

It made a very good seat,—or at least one sufficiently so
to answer the purpose intended.

The children, as they came up to this table, found that
there was a waiter there, with various articles and uten-
sils upon it, all covered neatly with a large napkin, which
Mr. Short had spread over them. Caroline took the nap-
kin off The children found, when the napkin was re-
moved, that there were upon the waiter, a cream-pitcher
full of cream, a sugar-bowl full of fine white sugar, three

saucers, and three spoons.
“Yes, Uncle Ben,” said Caroline. as she surveyed

these preparations, “it is all right.”
3 tC

= ;
Ah et

Pee ope)

~~ > sw,
od 8 OS



THE RASPBERRIES.
PHONNY’S LETTER. 27
The feast. Conversation. Plan for a walk.

This address to Uncle Ben, on the part of Caroline,
was of the nature of an apostrophe, for Mr. Short was
not within hearing at the time. He had brought the
waiter, and put it down upon Caroline’s table, and he had
then gone back to his work. Caroline immediately
began to pour out the raspberries into the saucers, after
which, the children covered them over with sugar, and
then poured on the cream. Then they proceeded to eat
their fruit very happily together.

The raspberries which the children had gathered were
enough for two saucers full apiece for each of the party,
and when they were all eaten Caroline rose to go.

«“ And what are you going to do with these things P”
said Phonny.

¢ Leave them here,” said Caroline. “ Uncle Ben will
take care of them. And now I think we will go and take
a watk instead of a ride.”

The children did not-answer. They would both have
preferred to take a ride, but they did not suppose that it
would be polite for them to say so.

*“ You see,” said Caroline, “if we take a ride, we must
go along the same old road, where we have all been a
thousand. times,—-but there is a very pretty place to walk
through the trees on the bank of the river, where I have
never been but once, and I want to go again.”

“Well,” said Malleville, “I will go and get my excur-
sion-box.”

So Malleville returned to the house to get her box. She
had left it on the piazza. Phonny got his cap, too, and
Caroline her bonnet. They did not go into the office
again, and Phonny forgot all about his letter. Of course,
if he had thought of it, he would have supposed that it
28 CAROLINE.





The excursion-box. The winding path. Mr. Keep’s letters.

remained safe on the desk where he had left it. He did
not know that Malleville had put it in another place.

When they were all ready, Caroline went into the par-
jour to tell her mother that she was going to take a walk
with Phonny and Malleville, and that she should be back
again at supper time. Then bidding her mother good-
bye, she came out again into the yard, where Phonny and
Malleville were waiting for her. Malleville had her ex-
cursion-box hanging about her neck by its ribbon.

Caroline led the way back into the garden again, and
through the garden to the lower end of it, where there
was a small gate. She opened the gate and let Phonny
and Malleville pass through, and then entered with them
upon a winding path which led down into a wood. What
happened during their walk will be made the subject of
the next chapter.

In the mean time, about an hour after the children
had set out on their walk, Mr. Keep came home. He
hung up his hat in its usual place in the passage-way,
and then went into his office. He found upon the table
several letters which Mr. Short had brought that day
from the post-office. He opened and read them, and then
went to his desk to answer them. He wrote four answers
to his letters,—on four separate sheets of paper. When
these letters were all written, Mr. Keep folded and sealed
them, and put stamps upon them, and then went to put
them on the safe to be ready for Mr. Short to carry to the
post-office.

As he laid his letters on the safe, he observed the one
which Malleville had put there, and taking it up he
looked at the superscription.

“ Ah,” said he, “this looks like Phonny’s work. He
PHONNY’S LETTER. 29



Phonny’s letter gets sent to the post-office.

has been here this afternoon, I suppose, and has been
writing to Antoine.”

So Mr. Keep went back to the table and brought
another stamp, and put it on the corner of Phonny’s
letter.

About half an hour after this, Mr. Short came into the
room, and taking up the letters that were lying on the
safe, he carried them all to the post-office.
30 CAROLINE.

‘The path leading into the woods. The waterfall.

CHAPTER TIL
THE WALK.

WHEN Caroline and the two children passed out from
the garden through the little gate to commence their walk,
Malleville ran on before the rest down the path. This
path led into a thicket, and thence down into a wooded
dell, at the bottom of which Malleville thought she saw
a brook and a little waterfall. So she ran forward to
view the waterfall. Phonny ran after her; Caroline fol-
lowed more slowly. She had seen the place a great many
times.

When Malleville reached the bottom of the descent,
she found quite a brook running across the path, with a
broad plank placed over it on one side, for a bridge.
Above the bridge was the waterfall. The water fell
about three feet down the face of a rock, between two
banks of beautiful green moss.

Malleville stood upon the plank a few minutes to look
at the waterfall, When Caroline came to the spot
Malleville said to her,

“ What makes the water run here so all the time ? ”

“ Why there is a brook,’ said Caroline, “that comes
down here from the hills.”

“ And where does it come from ?” asked Malleville.

“It comes out of the sky, I suppose,” said Caroline.

Caroline meant that the water came from the sky.
THE WALK. 31



Talk about the brook. A fox! a fox! Phonny’s disappointment.

Malleville stood still a moment and pictured in her
imagination a small stream like that from the nose of a
pump, coming down out of the sky on the top of a hill
to form the beginning of the brook.

At length she turned round upon the plank and looked
down the stream.

«“ And where does the water go to? ” said she.

“Why this brook,’’ said Caroline, “runs down into the
mill-pond. This path will bring us to the shore of the
mill-pond in a little while.”

So Caroline walked on, Malleville and Phonny ac-
companying her. ‘The path ascended beyond the brook,
winding along in a very pleasant manner among rocks
and trees.

At length, after walking along for some little distance,
Malleville saw something before her in the path which
looked like a wild animal.

“Why Phonny,” exclaimed Caroline, “ look there.
What is that? ”

“A fox! a fox!” cried Phonny, very much excited.
“ Hush! Caroline! see! there’s a fox!”

“No, it is not,” he added immediately afterward in a
disappointed tone. “It is nothing but a dog.”

The dog looked up a moment at the party of strangers
which he saw coming toward him—standing still while
he did so,in the middle of the path—-and then turned
and ran away. The children followed him. The dog
soon came to a fence, and creeping under the fence,
came out into a road.

“ Why here is a road,” said Malleville.

“Yes,” said Caroline, “we are going along that road a
o2 CAROLINE.



Description of the shore. The boys in the boat.





little way, and then we are going off into the woods
again.”

The road led along the bank of what seemed to be a
river. Caroline said, however, that it was not a river, but
a mill-pond. The water was very smooth and still, and
appeared to be very deep. The shores on the opposite
side of the pond were formed. of precipices of rock and of
wild and solitary forests, and there were one or two small
islands in view, which appeared like thick masses of
tangled trees and shrubbery growing out of the water.

«What a pretty mill-pond,” said Malleville.

“Yes,” said Caroline, “and after we go on by this
road a little farther, we shall find a path that leads along
the shore in a very pleasant place indeed.”

The road which the children were walking in, passed
at this point very near the water. There was only a
small bank and a narrow beach between.

The dog ran along before the children in the road a
short distance, and then went down the bank to the
beach, and there looked off upon the water, in a very
earnest manner. Presently he began to whine, and then
he barked. A moment afterward the children heard the
sound of a shrill whistle coming from behind the nearest
island. Next they heard voices in that direction, and
soon afterward a boat appeared with three boys in it.
One of the boys began to call to the dog.

The dog ran this way and that, stopping occasionally
to look earnestly out upon the water, and whining all the
time, as if very anxious to get to the boat.

*““T suppose that is Rodolphus in that boat,” said Malle-
ville.
THE WALK. 33
The boat lands. The children pass over a wall. The walk.

“ No,” said Phonny, “ Rodolphus is not there.”

The children remained standing upon the bank a few
minutes, looking sometimes at the dog upon the shore
before them, and sometimes at the boat and the boys on
the water, to see what the boys would do. The boat
gradually approached the shore. When they came near,
the boys called to the dog continually, endeavouring to
induce him to swim out to them through the water. But
the dog was not a water dog, and did not dare to come.

At last the boat touched the land. Then one of the
boys jumped out upon the beach, and taking up the dog
under his arm, he stepped back into the boat again. The
dog was of a lhght brown colour, and he had a long
bushy tail, so that it is not at all surprising that Phonny
at first mistook him for a fox.

As soon as the boys had got the dog in the boat, they
rowed away from the shore again, and then Caroline
said,

“Come! Now we will go on.”

So the party walked along the road together. In a
short time the road turned off from the shore, and then
Caroline led the way to a place where one or two stones
had been taken out from the top of the stone wall, so as
to make it easy to get over.

“Here is where we are to go,” said she.

So she climbed over the wall, and then helped Malle-
ville and Phonny over. Beyond the wall there was a
path. It led through and among tangled thickets of
bushes and trees, but still, as the path itself, though very
tortuous, was continuous and unimpeded, the children
got along in it very well. The land, so far as they could
see through the woods and thickets, rose very steep on

D
34 CAROLINE.



The dog in the boat. Romantic pathway. Rocks and precipices.



the right, while it descended on the left, toward the mill-
pond. In fact, the children could often see the surface
of the water in that direction, through the openings of
the trees.

The hill on the right hand appeared to grow steeper and
steeper, as the children went on, until finally it became a
mass of rocks and precipices, shaded and overhung every-
where with dense thickets of evergreen trees. The path
came out too nearer the shore of the pond, so that for
some distance the children, as they walked along, had an
unobstructed. view of the water. They saw the boat
with the boys in it coasting along the rocky shore be-
neath them. The dog was standing in the bow of the
boat, with his feet upon one of the thwarts, and look-
ing eagerly about in every direction, as if enjoying the
scenery.

“T wish we were in that boat,” said Phonny.

“Oh no,” said Maleville, “I should not dare to go
in it.”

The boat, though it was going in the same direction
with the children, soon disappeared behind a point of
land which projected into the pond at a short distance
before them. Caroline and her party accordingly went
on. They found the path more and more picturesque
and romantic as they proceeded. ‘There were great
precipices here and there, with beautiful flowers growing
in the interstices of the rocks, and tall firs and pines over-
hanging them from above. At intervals too there were
deep glens and ravines extending back among the preci-
pices, in each of which a little rill of water came gurgling
down among the moss and the roots at the bottom of the
dell. There were a great many rocks lying here and
THE WALK. 35



Climbing places. The tall ferns.

there, and shelving projections from the precipices,
formed with broken stratifications at the sides of them,
by means of which it was easy to climb up, and with flat
surfaces at the top, where it was easy to stand. The
children ascended a great many of these elevations,
partly for the sake of the new views which they thus ob-
tained of the surrounding scenery, and partly because it
was a pleasure in itself to be up so high.

All this scenery seemed to the children extremely grand
and sublime, much more so even than it would have ap-
peared to grown persons, if grown persons had been there.
For as we necessarily and instinctively compare the mag-
nitude of objects around us with our own size, it follows
that a tree or a rock that is fifty feet high, appears to a
child who is three feet high, as tall and large as one of a
hundred feet would to a man of six. Soa shelving-rock
as high as a man’s head, appears to aman who passes by
it as nothing extraordinary. It is only a leaning wall,—
one which he looks down upon. The child, on the other
hand, creeps under it, and ldoks wp with a species of awe
to what is to him a dangerous precipice. In the same
manner, if there were such a being as a giant as tall as a
mountain, the mountain would, of course, appear to him
only as a little hillock as high as his head.

Thus it happened that in this walk the trees, and
rocks, and precipices, and glens, imposing as they would
have appeared to any one, presented to the children, and
especially to Malleville, an aspect in the highest degree
grand and sublime.

In many places the path passed through beds of fern
or of tall grass, which brushed the dresses of the children
as they passed along, but this did no harm, as the grass

py 2
36 CAROLINE.



Dew. Caroline’s opinion. Low places. The cart-path. The cove.

and herbage were all perfectly dry. When going through
some of these places, Caroline said that it would be very
pleasant to come and take that walk some morning at
sunrise, if it were not for the dew.

“Tt would not be possible for us to come along here,”
she said, “in the morning, or after a shower. Malleville
would get wet through, up to her shoulders.”

This was really true, for the ferns in one place which
she had to go through, were so high that the topmost
fronds brushed Malleville’s shoulders as she walked along
between them,—-so rank and tall had they grown. Of
course, these ferns appeared. as tall to Malleville as they
would have seemed to a man if they had been as high as
corn in a corn-field.

There were some spots of low ground, too, in many
places which the children had to pass. It was evident
that these were places where water would usually stand
in wet weather and after rains, but they were all pretty
dry now, and the children got over them without any
difficulty.

At last the children arrived at a sort of cart-path
which came down through the woods in a little valley,
and led to the shore of a pond at a place where there ap-
peared to be a sort of landing. ‘There was a cove here,
that is, a little mdentation in the shore forming a bay.
Some logs, such as are cut in the woods to be sawn into
boards, were floating m the cove. The children crossed
this cart-path, and ascending a little beyond it, they came
to a place among the rocks where there was a smooth
wall on one side and an overhanging precipice behind,
which formed a sort of roof. Maleville immediately ran
to this place, saying that it was a house. There were
THE WALK. 37



A, grotto. Overhanging rock. The boat again.



some flat stones on the ground under the overhanging
rock. Malleville sat down upon one of them, and Caro-
line and Phonny following her to the place, sat down too.

‘‘ There is the boat again,” said Malleville, pointing out
upon the water. “They are coming im toward the
shore.”

Caroline and Phonny both looked in the direction
that Malleville indicated, and there they saw the boat
coming rapidly toward the shore. The boat was pomted
toward. the little landing where the cart-path terminated
on the shore of the water.

“ J wonder what they are going to do?” said Phonny.

* We will see,” said Caroline.

When the boat came to the shore the boys stepped out
upon the sand. The dog jumped out too. The boys, as
soon as they saw Caroline and. her party sitting under the
rocks, paused a moment and looked toward them, saying
something to themselves which the children could not
hear. A moment afterward they turned to the boat again
and began to draw it up upon the sand.

Phonny and Malleville were much interested in watch-
ing the operation by which the boys drew the boat out of
the water. One of them took the rope which was
fastened to the bows of the boat, and passing it over his
shoulder he walked forward, tugging away with all his
might. The other boys stood at the sides of the boat,
and taking hold of the cleats within, which passed along
just under the gunwale, lifted and carried, and thus they
moved the boat along.

When they had got it well up out of the water they all
three took hold of the side of the boat and turned it
over. The boat was light, and the work of turning it
38 CAROLINE.
The boys pull the boat up upon the land. Their warning.

over seemed to be very easily performed. When the boat
was thus turned upside down, one of the boys tied the
painter, that is, the rope fastened at the bows of the boat,
to a stake which was driven into the ground near by.

The boys went through all these operations in a hur-
ried manner, as if they were eager to get away, and as
soon as the boat was secured in the mode above described,
they all set off walking very rapidly up the cart-path into
the woods. The dog ran on before them. One of the
boys turned toward Caroline and her party as he went
along, and aftex hesitating a moment he called out to
them, saying,

“Tf you don’t look out you will get a wetting.”

He then went on, and in a moment more they all dis-
appeared.

“ What does he mean?” said Phonny.

“Tam sure I don’t know,” said. Caroline.

“Perhaps he means that it is going to rain,” suggested
Matleville.

Caroline looked wp to the sky. It happened, however,
that at the place where the children were sitting, but a
very small part of the sky could be seen. The part
which was visible was toward the east, which was the di-
rection in which the faces of the children were turned as
they sat in their grotto. The west was behind them, and
the whole sky in that direction was concealed by the
rocks and precipices, and by the lofty firs and pines which
overhung the place where the children were sitting.

There were no clouds to be seen in that part of the
sky which was open to their view. Caroline, however,
stepped out from under the rocks and looked upward
into the zenith. She saw a fringe of dark and angry-
THE WALK. 39



A shower comme. it thunders.





looking clouds slowly advancing to the western part of
the sky.



ANS. ay
NS A
‘a ‘

CQ

AN
ARN

TR
CSN Y

NX



THE REFUGE

“YJ am afraid there is going to be a shower,” said
she.

“ Never mind,” said Phonny, “if there should be, we
have a good house to stay in until it is over.”

“ Yes,” said Malleville.

Just then there was heard along, low, rambling sound
as of distant thunder.

“Tt thunders,” said Malleville, much alarmed. “ There
is going to be a thunder-shower I verily believe. Let us
run home as fast as we can.”
40 CAROLINE.

Drops falling. Breezes. The lightning.





“ No,” said Caroline, “we should not have time to get
home; it is more than a mile. We must stay here till
the shower is over.”

So saying she held out her hand and felt some drops
fall wpon it.

“Ft is beginning now,’ said she.

She had scarcely spoken these words before they all
heard a sudden pattering of drops upon the trees of the
forest above and around them, and immediately after-
ward a gust of wind began to blow, exhibiting its effects,
first in the sudden waving of the branches of the trees all
about the place where the children were sitting, and then
by the ruffling and darkening of the surface of the pond,
as the breezes, coming down from the hills, went scud-
ding over the water.

“There is going to be a shower,’ said Caroline, “I
truly believe. But we have got a good shelter, and we
will stay in it till it is over.”

« And what shall we do then ?” said Malleville. “It
will be so wet everywhere that we cannot get home.”

“T don’t know what we shall do,” said Caroline, “we
will see.”

In the mean time the rain fell faster and faster, and the
distant peals of thunder became more frequent. At length
a flash of Lghtning was seen, and soon afterward a loud
crash was heard in the sky, at a little distance behind
where the children were sitting. Phonny said that he
expected it struck something.

“ Well,” said Caroline, “ if it did, it can’t strike us very
well, under all these rocks, that is a comfort.”

The lightning came much nearer to siriking them,
however, than they had imagined that it would. For
THE WALK. 4]







The lightning strikes a great pine-tree. Children terrified,



only a few minutes after Caroline had spoken, an enorm-
ous pine, which grew on the summit of the precipice,
only a very little distance from the place where the chil-
dren had sought refuge, became the mark which the
thunderbolt chose for its aim in coming from the clouds
to the ground. The tree was split through at the trunk,
near the ground, and the top fell over the precipice to the
shore below. It came down very near to the place where
the children were sitting. The crash with which it fell
would have been dreadful, had it not been that the sound
of it was drowned by the loud rattling of the thunder,
which continued to roll and reverberate in every part of
the sky, long after the tree was still.

The children were all very much frightened at this catas-
trophe. Malleville and Phonny screamed aloud with
terror, and were going to jump up and run away from
their shelter, though the rain, which had been descend-
ing in torrents for some time, now poured down faster
than ever.

«Sit still,” said Caroline, “this is the safest place
for us.”

“No,” said Malleville, all excited and trembling, “let
us go away from here. The lightning will strike us if we
stay here.”

* No, it won't,” said Caroline. “Sit still, the lightning
cannot strike through all these rocks.”

«“ Well, then, the trees will fall down upon our heads,”
said Malleville.

“ Not if we stay here,” said Carolme. “ They may if
we go out. It is better to stay here.”

Phonny and Malleville submitted to this decision,
though it was with fear and trembling. Caroline talked
42 CAROLINE.
Caroline’s composure. Black cloud. The chain-lightning.

with them continually, to amuse their minds and to allay
their fears. She soon told them that the violence of the
storm was passed, and this proved really to be the case;
for the cloud from which the thunder and lightning, and
the wind and rain, proceeded, was now passing away to-
ward the eastward, over the water of the pond. In a
short time, the rain fell in such quantities from the clouds
over the pond that the opposite shores were wholly hid-
den. At this period, too, the great cloud itself, in all its
blackness and terror, was fulty exhibited. to their view, as
it lay expanding itself over the whole eastern sky. The
children could see also chains of forked lightning darting
to and fro upon the face of the cloud, from time to time,
each one followed at brief intervals with a rolling peal of
thunder.

“The shower is passing away,” said Caroline.

“ No,” said Malleville, ‘I think the lightning is grow-
ing brighter and brighter.”

“That is only because we can see the cloud plainer
now,” said Caroline. “It does not rain so fast, and the
thunder does not sound so loud. Besides, it begins to
look brighter over our heads.”

Phonny and Malleville reached their heads out from
under the shelter of the rocks as far as they dared, to see
the sky; but the drops came down so fast from the leaves
of the trees above them, that they could notsee. So they
came back again into their retreat.

* But I don’t see how we are to get home,” said Phonny,
despondingly.

“ Nor I,” said Caroline.

“ Perhaps somebody will come after us,” said Phonny.

“ Nobody knows where we are,” said Caroline.
THE WALK. 43

Perplexity about getting home. Plan of going home in the boat.





“ We can’t walk home the way we came,” said Phonny,
“the grass and bushes will be so wet.’

“'That is true,” said Caroline.

“ And besides,” continued Phonny, “ there will be ever
so many pools of water in all the low places, and Malle-
ville can never get over them.”

*T know it,” said Caroline, “and I am sure I don’t
know what we shall do.”

“ 1 suppose that that cart-path might be more open,—
where the boys went,”—said Phonny, after a little re-
flection. “ Perhaps we could get along in that.”

“We don’t know,” said Caroline. “It might be, and
it might not be. Besides, we don’t know where it goes
to. It might take us farther away from home than we
are now.”

‘‘ Let’s go in the boat!” said Phonny, in a joyful tone,
as if struck with a sudden and happy thought.

“ Well,” said Caroline, “that’s a plan.”

“If we can only get it turned over,” said Phonny. “I
don’t see what they turned it bottom upward for.”

“'That was to keep it from getting full of water, I sup-
pose,” said Caroline, “in the shower. It is better for us
that they did,—that is, provided we can get it back again,
for now it is all dry inside.”

“ Let us go down and try,” said Phonny.

“Not yet,’ said Caroline. “It has not yet done
raining.”

Drops were indeed still falling, though many of them,
as Phonny said, came from the leaves of the trees. Still
the rain had not yet wholly ceased. The sky, however,
began to look very bright overhead, and soon a broad
and beautiful rainbow began to appear on the clouds
44 CAROLINE.



The children go down to the boat.



that lay in the eastern sky. Not long after this the sun
broke forth, and the rain was obviously over. The
children then all came out of their retreat, following
Caroline, who took the lead of them, and stepping care-
fully on stones to avoid the wet grass, they went down
toward the boat.
A VOYAGE. 45



Plans for turning up the boat. Fruitless efforts.

CHAPTER IV.
A VOYAGE.

THE whole party, through the judgment and skill
which Caroline exercised in choosing the way, succeeded
in reaching the boat without getting wet. When they
arrived at the spot, however, they stood by the side of the
boat, and looked down upon it with something of a de-
spairing air. It looked very heavy.

“ We never can lift it in the world,” said Caroline.

“‘ Let us try,” said Phonny.

So they all took hold of the side of the boat, stooping
down low for this purpose. At the word of command
from Caroline, they all began to lift. The boat moved a
little m its place, but did not rise in the least from the sand.

“ No,” said Caroline.

“ Let us try once more,” said Phonny.

So they tried again, but their efforts were as fruitless as
before.

“No,” said Phonny, “we can’t lift it; and besides, it
would not do any good if we could turn it over, for we
cannot go home in it.”

“ No,” said Caroline, “but we can get out of this
wilderness in it. The mill-pond goes to the mill, and if
we can get there, we can get home by the road.”

“ Yes,” said Phonny, “so we could. I wish the boat
was not so heavy.”
46 CAROLINE.



enema ae

The children get a pry. They succeed in turning over the boat.





een

“Could not we pry it over ? ” said Caroline.

“Yes,” said Phonny, “if we only had a pry.”

As Phonny said this, Carole put her hand under the
boat at the end, and took hold of the handle of an oar.
She pulled the oar out, saying,

“This oar will do for a pry.”

Caroline presently pulled out another oar. The chil-
dren immediately began to use these oars for pries.
Phonny took one and Caroline the other. They had
considerable difficulty at first In getting the oars under
the edge of the boat, in such a way as to get. them, as
Phonny expressed it, “to take a hold.” They, however,
at length succeeded, and the side of the boat began
slowly to rise. As fast as they got the edge of the boat
up Malleville would keep it up by putting stones under.

By patient perseverance in this course,—both Phonny
and Caroline stopping occasionally in their prying to help
Malleville in the blocking up,—the children succeeded at
length in raising the edge of the boat that was farthest
from the water, nearly a foot from the ground.

“Now,” said Phonny, “I believe we can heave it over
with our hands.”

So they all took hold again with their hands. They
succeeded in lifting it, and by one vigorous effort they
raised it up so high that it rolled over and came right
side up, all ready to be launched into the water.

The launching was not very difficult, for the boat, in
the process of being turned over, was rolled out so far
that about half the length of it was already in the water.
Phonny untied the painter, and they all took hold of the
bow of the boat and pushed it mto the cove. There was
a log upon the shore near by, which formed a sort of
A VOYAGE. 47
Differences between a paddle and an oar.

wharf or pier, from which the passengers for this in-
tended voyage could embark. Phonny drew up the boat
alongside of this log, and Malleville and Caroline, walk-
ing out upon it a little way, at length safely stepped on
board.

«“ Now,” said Phonny, “I 7U push off.”

“ Not yet,’ said Caroline. “ Let us see how we had
better sit.”

After some debate, it was concluded that as there were
two oars and a paddle belonging to the boat, it would be
best for Malleville and) Phonny to row, and for Caroline
to paddle and steer. There is a great difference between
a paddle and an oar, both in form and in the manner of
using them. A paddle is short, and the blade is broad,
and it is generally used by a person sitting in the stern
of the boat, and looking the way the boat is gomg. An
oar, on the other hand, is long. It rests, when employed
in rowing, upon the side of the boat, in what is called the
row lock, or between the thole pins, and the person who
rows with it sits with his back to the bow or forward part
of the boat, so that he has to turn partly round and look
over his shoulder when he wishes to see where he is go-
ing. When, however, there is a person to sit in the stern
to steer, it is not necessary for the oarsman to look round
in this manner, for the helmsman at the stern with the
paddle, keeps a good lookout ahead, and steers the boat
where it ought to go.

There is a great difference, too, between oars and pad-
dies in respect to the circumstances in which they can
be most conveniently employed. A boat can be pro-
pelled faster with oars than with paddles, though as the
former extend laterally so far, they require a considerable
48 CAROLINE.

Advantages of oars—of paddles. Malleville’s rowing.

breadth of water in order to be advantageously used.
For narrow and tortuous channels, paddles are much the
most convenient. Indians use paddles, therefore, on rivers
and small streams, while the boats of great merchant ships
and men-of-war in broad harbours or at sea are always
propelled by oars.

Both Caroline and Phonny had often been in boats be-
fore, though they had had but very little experience in the
practical management of them. Malleville, of course,
knew nothing at all on the subject. She took her seat
where Caroline directed her, and put her hands upon
the handle of the oar, and when Phonny, who had also
taken his place upon one of the thwarts with an oar

























aN
SETTING OFF


A VOYAGE. 49

oo = aa)

The children set offin the boat. Slow progress. Malleville’s observations.



in his hands, began to row, she attempted to imitate his
motions, but she was very unsuccessful in these attempts.
The blade of her oar would always go up in the air,
when she attempted to put it down into the water, and
when it was down in the water it would stay in, notwith-
standing all her efforts to get it out. In fine, it soon
appeared that Malleville’s oar only impeded the motion
of the boat, and so Caroline directed her to take it in.
Malleville was very unwilling to do this, but she finally
consented ; and so Phonny took in her oar and laid it
down into the bottom of the boat.

Of course, a boat propelled by one oar and one paddle
must make very slow and very uncertain progress, and
Caroline soon. began to feel much discouraged. She said
she did not believe that they should ever be able to get
to the mill. In fact, in getting out from the cove and
away from the shore, the boat seemed determined to
go round and round, without going forward at all.
Very soon, however, both Phonny and Caroline learned
better how to manage their respective implements, and
they soon began to move along in quite a scientific
manner.

“We had better keep pretty near the shore,” said
Caroline, “ all the way.”

“ Yes,” said Phonny, “ I think so too.”

«“ Where the water is not very deep,” said Caroline.

«“ Yes,” said Phonny.

“It is pretty deep here,’ said Malleville. So saying,
Malleville leaned over the gunwale of the boat, where
her oar had rested while she had been rowing, and looked
down into the water.

“T can see a great rock on the bottom,” said she ;—

BB
50 CAROLINE.

Great rock. The snake! Disagreement. Slow and toilsome progress.



“and now it is all sand—and there is a fish,—he is run-
ning away,—now he is out of sight.”

“That ’s right,” said Phonny, “keep a good look-out
down in the water, and let us know what you see.”

Malleville expressed her willingness to comply with
this request, and was proceeding to describe to Phonny
what she saw upon the bottom of the pond, when she
suddenly exclaimed, in a tone of great astonishment :

“Oh Phonny! here is a great snake on the bottom, all
twisting and curling.”

“ Where ?” said Phonny, eagerly, “let me see.” So
Phonny stopped rowing, and looked over Malleville’s side
of the boat, to the place where Malleville pointed.

“See!” said Malleville, “see there.”

“ Nonsense,” said Phonny, “it is nothing but an old
root.” By this time the boat had got by the place, so Phonny
resumed his position, and went on with his rowing.

“No, Phonny,” said Malleville, “it could not be a root,
for I saw it twisting and squirming.”

The waving motion which Malleville had observed was
only an apparent motion, produced by the rippling of
the water.

Phonny insisted that it was a root, and spoke, moreover,
so contemptuously of the idea that it could be anything
else, that Malleville was offended, and would not tell him
of anything more that she saw.

The mill-pond on which our party were making their
slow and toilsome voyage, was quite large, being more
than a mile long, and in many places from half to threc
fourths of a mile wide. The cove where the children
had embarked was very nearly a mile from the mill.
After going along in the manner we have described for
A VOYAGE. 51



Caroline proposes to land. Malleville’s provisions, Seats on the stones.

about one-third of this distance, the boat came opposite to
one of the islands which have been already spoken of. By
this time both Phonny and Caroline had become some-
what tired of their work. The shore of the little island
looked very inviting, and the idea suddenly occurred to
Caroline that it might be a good plan to land there as
they went by and take a little rest.

So she drew her paddle in, and laying it down by her
side in the boat, she took out her watch. It was a very
beautiful little watch, in gold and enamel.

“ Half-past five o’clock,” said she. “We shall not get
home in time for supper. Malleville, have not you got
something for us to eat in your box?”

“ Yes,” said Malleville, “I have got two turnovers.
There is just one for you and one for Phonny and I.”

On hearing this Caroline at once decided to land upon
the island and have supper. She accordingly with her
paddle turned the head of the boat toward the shore and
soon ran it upon the strand.

The two children got out first, and then Caroline fol-
lowed. She called upon Phonny to tie the painter in
the most secure manner possible, since it would be an
awful thing for the boat to float away and Jeave them
on that uninhabited island. When Phonny had fastened
the boat according to Caréline’s directions, she led her
party up on the shore, and found a seat for them upon
some smooth stones which were lying there. They
could not go upon the grass, for the grass was everywhere
wet from the effects of the shower.

The sun shone in upon them where they sat, from
among a magnificent group of golden clouds that were
now floating in the western sky. The sun was still quite

BE 2
52 CAROLINE.

Caroline’s drollery. Eating supper. Plays.

—

high, though it was drawing toward the horizon. The even-
ing was delightful. The grass and the trees were every-
where glittering with the drops of rain which hung upon
them, and the surface of the water was resplendent with
the reflected magnificence of the sky.

But besides the beauty of the evening and of the scenery,
the children enjoyed another very prolific source of plea-
sure while they were eating their supper, in the lively
and amusing conversation with which Caroline enter-
tained them all the time. She was perfectly grave and
sober herself in all that she said, but she made Malleville
and Phonny laugh continually by the drollery of her
remarks, and the singularity and oddity of her im-
aginings. At one time she would pretend that they
were shipwrecked mariners, cast away upon a desolate
island. She was the captain of the vessel, and Phonny
and Malleville her
sailors, while the boat
represented their ship
driven up by the storm
high and dry upon the
shore. At another time
she herself was Robin-
son Crusoe, on the is-
land of Juan Fernan-
dez, Phonny being
her man Friday, and
Maleville the goat;
and while acting in
this capacity she sent
Phonny at one time to
set up an oar upon the



TOE SIGNAL
A VOYAGE. 53

Phonny’s flag-staff. A handkerchief for a flag. Sail-boat coming.







beach, with a handkerchief tied to the end of the blade
of it, as a signal, she said, for any ship that might chance
to pass near their island to come and rescue them.
Phonny made the oar stand upright, in using it thus for
a flagstaff, by placing stones around it at the foot. The
handkerchief which was to serve for the flag, was tied
to the blade of the oar before the oar was raised, and as
there was a gentle wind at the time, it spread itself out
and fluttered m the breeze as soon as Phonny had
elevated it, as if it had been a veritable signal.

At length, after spending about half an hour upon the
island, Caroline said that it was time for them to re-embark
and proceed. on their voyage. So she directed Phonny
to go and take down the oar. Phonny proceeded to do
so, when suddenly Malleville pointed to something at a
distance on the water, and said,

“See, Caroline, there is a ship coming.”

Caroline looked in the direction which Mallevile indi-
cated, and to her surprise she saw what appeared to be a
small sail-boat coming toward them.

«“Phonny, what is that ? ” said she.

“TTi—yo!” said Phonny, “there comes a sail-boat.”

The three voyagers stood for a few minutes gazing in
silence at the unexpected sight. ‘The boat appeared to
be a small one, and the sail was of a very simple con-~-
struction. It adwanced rapidly, however, as there was a
very pleasant evening breeze, and it seemed to be coming
directly toward the island.

“ { wonder who it can be,” said Caroline.

“ T expect it is some men from the mill,” said Phonny.
«“'That is the kind of boat they have at the mill”

Phonny was right in his conjecture. ‘The boat was
54 CAROLINE.

Conversation with the mill-men. Taking in tow.





what is called a canoe, such as the mill-men used in work-
ing about the booms and dam. It was not originally de-
signed to carry a sail, but the men had rigged a sort of
sail to it, and having rowed to the upper end of the
pond, upon some of their business, before the shower,
they were now returning, and as the wind was favourable
they had hoisted their sail. They had observed the
Robinson Crusoe signal which Phonny had raised, and
were now coming to the island to see who were there.
They came up pretty near the place where the children
were standing on the beach, and then took in their sail,
which, as it was small and light, could be furled in a
moment.

« Are you in any difficulty P” said one of the men.

“Yes,” said Caroline. “We got caught out in the
shower, and we are trying to get to the mill in our boat.”

Here the men talked with each other a minute or two
in an under-tone. They spoke so low that the children
could not hear what they said. At last one of the men
turned his face toward the party on the shore again and
said,

“« Well, get on board your boat and give us the painter,
and we’ll take you in tow.”

Caroline did not know precisely what was meant by
taking in tow, though Phonny understood the phraseology
sufficiently well to know what he was to do. He took
down the flag and put the oar on board. He unfastened
the painter, and held the bow of the boat while Caroline
and Malleville got in. Hethen pushed the boat off from
the shore and leaped in himself, as soon as he had set it
in motion. In the mean time Caroline had resumed her
seat in the stern, and had taken up the paddle.
A VOYAGE. 55





Caroline and her party have a sail. The village. The line cast off.



“ Now send her ahead,” said Phonny, “right toward
the other boat.”

“So Caroline paddled as well as she could, and suc-
ceeded in propelling her boat slowly in the direction of
the sail-boat. As soon as Phonny could reach, he gave
the end of the painter to one of the men in the sail-boat,
and the man fastened it there in some way or other. His
comrades then hoisted the sail, and thus the wind carried
both boats on together.

Caroline and her party had a delightful sail. They had
nothing to do now but to sit upon the seats and enjoy the
gentle motion of the boat as it glided smoothly and noise-
lessly through the water. The men in the sail-boat
turned around occasionally to look at them, and some-
times asked them questions in respect to their being
caught out in the shower. Excepting this, the parties in
both boats sailed along in silence most of the way. Ca-
roline and the children in fact began to feel somewhat
tired, for they had been out now a long time, and had
passed through such a variety of excitements that they
seemed glad of a little rest.

At length they came in sight of the village, and of the
mill standing at the border of it, near the stream. 'The
men seemed to be steering the sail-boat directly toward
the mill. The breeze was fresh, and the boats glided along
very rapidly through the water, and at length began to
draw quite near. Caroline was looking out toward the
shore, wondermg where the men were going to land,
when suddenly one of the men who was seated in the
stern of the sail-boat, untied the painter of the children’s
boat and cast it off into the water, saying, at the same
time,
56 CAROLINE.



Boat adrift. Fear of going over the dam. The landing.



“There is your painter. Now you must take care of
yourselves.”

As he said this, he put down his helm and the sail-boat
swept round in a grand circle toward the other side of
the pond, leaving Caroline and her party in their boat to
drift wherever the current might carry them. There was
not much current, it is true, though there was a gentle
motion apparent on the surface of the water, tending to-
ward the dam.

“ 'Take care,
the dam.”

“ No,” said Caroline, “ the water is not deep enough on
the dam to carry us over, even if we go down to it.”

However, notwithstanding this assurance, Caroline did
not seem inclined to run the risk of being carried over
the dam, for she directed Phonny to put out his oar and
row, while she plied her paddle very vigorously. Phonny,
in his trepidation, began first to row the wrong way, and
then Malleville took hold to help him, which only hin-
dered him, so the boat went more than half round before
the young navigators could get command of its motions.
At length, however, they succeeded, and gradually pro-
pelled it to the shore.

There was a little landing by the mill, at a place near
the flume, where the water went in through a grating to
turn the great water-wheel. Caroline directed the boat
to this landing. When it touched the sand, Phonny got
out and held the boat by the bow until the other voyagers
had disembarked. They then secured the boat by tying
the painter to a post which had been set in the ground
there, expressly for such uses.

There was a path leading from this landing to a door

37

said Phonny, “we shall be carried over
A VOYAGE. 57

Going into the mill. Shoes dry. Rodolphus in the mill.

RI i Nth Rt

in the lower part of the mill. As soon as the boat was
fastened, Caroline led the way along this path, saymg, as
she went,

“ Now, children, be very careful and not step where
there is any wet grass.”

Caroline opened the door, and went into the mill. The
others followed her, and then she looked down at her
shoes, and also at those of Malleville and Phonny, to see
if they were wet. The shoes and dresses of all three ap-
peared as nice and dry as when they first left home.

“ Now,” said Caroline, “let us go up-stairs, and see if
we can find Rodolphus.”

So Caroline led the way to the back part of the room,
where there was a broad flight of stairs leading to an
apartment above. ‘There was a great rumbling noise of
wheels and machinery in the mill, and Malleville was a
little afraid; but she went boldly on, taking hold, all the
time, of Phonny’s hand, and keeping as near as possible
to Caroline. At the head of the stairs was a door. They
opened the door and came out into the main room of the
mill, where all the grinding was going on.

They found Rodolphus here, busy in pouring some corn
into a great hopper. Caroline went to him and told him
how they had been caught in the shower. She was
obliged to talk very loud, to make Rodolphus hear, on ac-
count of the noise which was made by the machinery.
She concluded by asking Rodolphus if he knew of any-
body there, that they could send home, to tell Uncle Ben
where they were, and to ask him to come for them in a
wagon.

«There is a man here with a wagon,” said Rodolphus,
58 CAROLINE.

ance, a

Mrs. Keep’s anxiety. Her conversation with Mr. Keep.

“and he will lend it to me to carry you home, while his
grist is grinding.”

“ But who will tend the grinding then ?” said Phonny.

“ Oh, he will tend it himself,’ said Rodolphus.

So Rodolphus went and spoke to the man, and in a
few minutes returned, and reported that the man said
they might have his wagon and welcome.

“ And I will go and drive you,” said Rodolphus.

So Rodolphus went into a little room in a corner of the
mill, and. took off his miller’s frock and put on his jacket.
Then he went out and got the wagon, and brought it up
to the door. He helped the children in, and then got in
himself, taking his seat on a small box, which was in the
front part of the wagon. When all was thus ready, he
drove off through the village.

In the mean time, at Mr. Keep’s house, when the great
shower came on and Mrs. Keep found that Caroline and
the children did not return, she felt a great deal of so-
licitude about them. She went into her husband’s office,
where Mr. Keep was busy writing, to speak to him
about it.

“ Husband,” said she, “I am afraid the children have
got into some difficulty.”

“ Yes,” said Mr. Keep, “I presume they have.”

“ What shall we do?” said Mrs. Keep.

“TI don’t know that there is anything that we can do,”
replied Mr. Keep. “They will come home by-and-by,
all drenched with the rain, that’s all. There is no other
way with such a girl as Caroline, but to let her learn by
her own experience.”

“ But [ am afraid that they have got into some serious
A VOYAGE, 59

Mr. Keep’s composure. The children come home.

trouble,” said Mrs. Keep. “ Would it not be best to send
for them ?”

“T don’t know where we could send,” said Mr. Keep.
“ We can’t tell where they have gone. If you think it best,
however, I will go and see if I can find anything of them.
But I presume that they have run in somewhere out of
the rain, and will come home by-and-by, safe enough,
only they will, undoubtedly, be muddy and wet from
head. to foot.”

Mrs. Keep was satisfied that it would do no good to
send for the children, but she felt quite uneasy neverthe-
less, and went continually to the door, to see if they were
coming. She was at last greatly relieved, at seeing Ro-
dolphus drive up with them in the wagon, and at finding
that they were as dry and as clean as if there had been
no shower at all.
60 CAROLINE.



Beechnut in Boston. His plans for going home.

CHAPTER V.
BEECHNUT’S RETURN.

Own the morning of the third day after Phonny wrote
his composition-letter describing the imaginary fire, which
was sent to the post-office by mistake, Beechnut on look-
ing out from his window at the hotel where he was lodg-
ing in the city, saw that it was raining fast. The first
gong had already sounded. In half an kour the gong
would sound again, he knew, for breakfast. He dressed
himself, thinking, while thus employed, about the busi-
ness which he had still to do in the city, and considering
whether the rain would prevent his finishing it, and setting
out for home the next day, as he had intended todo. He
came to the conclusion that he might perhaps get through
with his business notwithstanding the storm.

Immediately after breakfast he took his umbrella and
went out into the street, intending, first of all, according
to his usual custom, to go to the post-office. His hotel was
at some distance from the post-office. As he came out
upon the side-walk from the door of the hotel, he said to
himself, thinking,

“ Let me see,—shall I walk to the post-office or take an
omnibus? Let me calculate a litle. My board at the
hotel is two dollars a day. My time in Franconia is
worth to Mrs. Henry say one dollar more. So that every
day that I stay in Boston, costs her three dollars. Now
BEECHNUT’S RETURN. 61





A curious calculation. The omnibus. The boy in the omnibus.

how many business hours in a day are there here? I
will call it six. Thus every day that I stay here my
time costs Mrs. Henry fifty cents an hour. The price of
a ride is six cents, the eighth part of half a dollar. There-
fore [ had. better ride whenever I can save an eighth part
of an hour by it: and that I can do now.”

So saying, Beechnut held up his finger to the driver
of an omnibus which just then came passing by. The
driver reined up his horses, and Beechnut got in.

An omnibus is a long carriage with a door and steps
leading to it behind. The seats within are along the
sides. There are windows too along the sides, but no doors.

When Beechnut got into the omnibus he found that it
was full of passengers, all excepting one seat near the
door, and that seat was occupied by a small boy who was
kneeling up upon it, in order that he might look out
the window. It was a warm morning though rainy, and
the window was open, the wind being on the other side.

Omnibuses in cities are almost always full In rainy
weather, since many people who like to walk when it is
pleasant, are very glad to ride when it rains. This is
particularly true in New York, where m rainy weather it
is sometimes almost impossible to get a place in an
omnibus, or, as they often call it there, a Sus. One day
when Beechnut and Phonny were in New York together,
and were coming up Broadway in an omnibus, both being
jammed up in very close quarters in it, Im one corner,
Beechnut amused Phonny by describing the state of
things thus :



On every wet and ramy day,
They crowd the *busses in Broadway,
Against all rule ;
62 CAROLINE.

Beechnut's poetry. The boy looks out at the window.

aeperiny



And sometimes when ’tis very showery,
Even the rail cars in the Bowery,
Get more than full.

Phonny had been very impatient and fretfal under the
pressure which he endured, but after hearing Beechnut’s
poetry he became much more good-natured about it.

But to return to the story. A woman who sat next to
the boy who was kneeling upon the seat, and who seemed
to have the care of him, took hold of him to take him
down, in order to make room for Beechnut when she saw
him coming in. But Beechnut prevented her.

“ Let him stay,” said he. “He likes to look out the
window, and I shall have room.”

So Beechnut crowded into the place that was left, be-
tween the boy and the end of the seat near the door,
leaving the boy kneeling where he was, on the seat.

The omnibus stopped from time to time as it passed
along the street, and various people got out. At last it
reached the street which led down to the post-office.
Beechnut pulled the string. The omnibus stopped. The
woman took the child down from the seat, and prepared.
to get out of the omnibus. Beechnut stepped down first,
and spread his umbrella. Then he helped the boy down,
and afterward the woman. He held his umbrella over
them until they reached the side-walk, for the omnibus
had stopped in the middle of the street. The woman
was young, and she had a very pleasant countenance, but
she was very plainly dressed. She thanked Beechnut
for his kindness, and then spread her own umbrella over
herself and her boy, and Beechnut walked away.

Beechnut went down a broad and straight street, lined
on both sides with magnificent buildings, and leading to-
BEECHNUT’S RETURN. 63

Beechnut goes down State Street. The post-office. The delivery.



ward the water. He could see the masts of the ships and
other vessels that were lying at the wharves, at the lower
end of the street. After passing several granite blocks,
consisting of buildings occupied by banks and insurance
offices, he came at length to a great door through which
a multitude of people were going and coming. Beechnut
went in. He found himself in a long and wide passage-
way, crowded with people. A great» many were going in.
A great many others were coming out. Those that
were coming out, generally had newspapers or letters in
their hands. The floor of the building was of stone, and.
it was extremely wet, being drenched with the drippings
of innumerable umbrellas.

Beechnut went on, and at length came to a place where
the passage-way widened, and where there was a large
iron stairway leading to apartments above. Beyond this
stairway he passed by a long range of sashes with glass
in them like windows,—and on the inside of the sashes,
in a room within, were a great many little boxes or
pigeon-holes, filled with letters. ‘These were the boxes of
the merchants and other residents of Boston—the plan
being to put the letters of each merchant, when the
mails came in, into his box, and then he could tell by
looking through the window, from the passage-way, when
there were any letters for him. Beechnut, of course, had
no box, and so he went on to another place to get his
letters.

He came at length to a place beyond the boxes, where
there were three small niches or recesses, with a window
in each of them. Over the first of these recesses were
painted several letiers of the alphabet, namely, those from
A to F. The meaning of this was, that all persons
64 CAROLINE.

Mode of applying for letters. The column.

whose names began with those letters, were to inquire at
that window, while those whose names began with any
other letters, were to go to the next window. As Beech-
nut’s name, Bianchinette, began with B, he went to the
first recess.

There were a number of men and boys formed in a
line here, or rather in a column, waiting for their turns
to inquire for letters. The one who was at the head of
this column was at the window. Beechnut took his place
at the foot of it. The man at the head of the column
soon got his letter, and went away. Then the next man
went up to the window, and the whole column advanced
one step. Thus as fast as those at the head of the column
received their letters, the column advanced, while at the
same time new-comers were continually joining in at the
foot of it. Thus the column continued always of nearly
the same length, being kept up by a constant succession
of persons going and coming.

Pretty soon, Beechnut got up near the window. He
could hear the men before him ask for their letters.
Those who were accustomed to come to the office, would
speak briefly,—simply giving their name; while those
who were strangers at the office, usually made a long
sentence of it, in speaking to the clerk. For instance,
the man who was next but two to Beechnut, put his
head to the window and said to the clerk inside, “ Is there
any letter here, to-day, for Samuel Thompson ? ” whereas,
the man who had preceded him simply said, speaking
very distinctly, “ George Jones.” This last was sufficient,
for as the clerk within was perfectly aware that nobody
came to that window for anything but letters, all that he
needed to be informed in respect to each new applicant
BEECHNUT’S RETURN. 65

The woman comes. Ladies’ window. The lady gets a letter.



that came was the name of the person whose letters he
wished to get.

As Beechnut was amusing himself in observing these
things while waiting his turn, he happened to perceive
the woman who had been with him ‘in the omnibus,
coming along the passage-way, leading her httle boy by
the hand. She looked about, appearing to be a little be-
wildered, and seemed not to know where to go.

Beechnut immediately left his place in the line, though
by so doing he knew very well that he should lose his
turn, and be obliged to go to the foot again; but he
thought that it would only take him a few minutes to get
up to where he was before. So he went to the woman
and said to her,

“If you came to get-a letter, you must go to the ladies’
window, which is out this way.”

So he led the way, and the woman followed. He came
presently to a recess similar to the one which he had gone
to first himself, only instead of having the letters of the
alphabet over it, it had the words LADIES’ WINDOW printed
there.

“ Would you be so good as to inquire for me?” said
the woman.

“ Yes,” said Beechnut, “ what is the name ?”

“« Mrs. Caroline Keep,” said the woman.

Beechnut was very much surprised to hear this name
announced. He, however, said nothing, but repeated the
name at the little opening in the window, and the clerk
inside immediately took down a parcel of letters from a
compartment, marked K, and began to look them over.
While Beechnut waited to see what the result would be,
the woman stood by him, holding her boy by the hand.

P
66 CAROLINE.



Beechnut’s mode of calling for aletter. He is astonished and alarmed.

“ My husband has gone to California,” said she, “ and I
expect a letter from him. I had to bring my Ihttle boy
with me, because I had nobody to leave him with at
home.”

Beechnut bad a great desire to know whether this Mrs.
Caroline Keep was any relation to his friend Caroline of
Franconia, and he was upon the point of asking the
question, when the clerk handed him out a letter. Mrs.
Keep seized it immediately and said very joyfully,

“ Yes, it is from my husband.”

Then she thanked Beechnut again for all his kindness,
and went away very greatly pleased, as it seemed, with
having got a letter.

Beechnut then went back to his own window, and took
his place as before at the foot of the column. In due
time, he made his way up to the window, and when there,
instead of calling his name as the others had done, he
handed in to the clerk aslip of paper with his name
written upon it. This was Beechnut’s usual practice, for
his name being a French one, and having, of course a
very unusual sound for American ears, it was always the
safest and also the most convenient way, both for himself
and the clerks, that he should give it to them in writing.

The clerk took down a parcel of letters from the com-
partment marked B,and very soom gave Beechnut a
Jetter. It was the letter which Phonny had written as a
composition in Mr. Keep’s office.

Beechnut left the letter-window and went across the
passage-way to a place where there was a window which
looked out into the open air, and there opened his letter
and began to read. He was greatly astonished and very
much alarmed at reading the account of the fire. Of
BEECHNUT’S RETURN. 67



Beechnut takes a hack. Conversation with the hackman.

o

course, he supposed the account was true. There was
nothing either in or about the letter to suggest any other
supposition. He was at first somewhat at a loss to know
what Phonny meant by saying that his half-hour was not
out, but he finally concluded that Mrs. Henry had limited
him to half an hour in writing his letter, on account of
the closing of the mail. He folded up the letter, put it
in his pocket, and walked rapidly along the passage-way
among the people that were going and coming.

“J must set off for Franconia,” said he, “ by the very
first train.”

There was a clock at the end of a building which stood
at the head of the street in which the post-office was
situated. This elock is a very noted time-piece, being:
known universally to all the people who frequent that
part of the city, as the State Street clock. Beechnut
looked up at this clock as soon as he got out upon the
side-walk and found that it was half-past eight.

“'The train leaves at ten,” said Beechnut, “I have just
an hour and a half to do all my business.”

He walked rapidly up the street till he came pretty
near the head of it, and then turned into another short
and narrow street on ‘the left, where he recollected to have
seen a hack stand. The hack was there. The horses
were standing patiently in the rain, while the hackman,
having got inside of his coach, was lying there in a corner
fast asleep.

Beechnut pulled him and waked him up.

“Flow much do you ask for your carriage by the
hour ?” said he.

“'To ride about town?” asked the man.

FZ


68 CAROLINE,



Beechnut at the hotel. Settling the bill.

“ Yes,” said Beechnut.

“ A dollar for the first hour, and seventy-five cents for
every hour afterward,” said the hackman.

“Well!” said Beechnut. <‘‘ Drive me to the Marlboro’
hotel.”

So the driver got out of his hack and Beechnut got in.
The driver then pulled out a great cape, made of India-
rubber cloth, from under his seat in front of the coach,
and after putting it on, he mounted on the box and rode
away.

The hackman stopped at length at the door of the
hotel, Beechnut went up into his room and packed his
trank, This was very soon done, and then he came
down. to the office and called for his bill.

“ Do you leave town this morning, sir?” said the clerk.

“Yes,” said Beechnut, “I am going out in the ten
o’clock train.”

“ Do you wish for a carriage P” said the clerk.

“ No, | have a carriage here,” said Beechnut.

“Ts your baggage ready ?”

“ Yes,” said Beechnut, “ all ready.”

Here the clerk called out in a loud voice,

“ Baggage in number thirty-seven.”

There were several porters sitting on a settee in the
office, and as soon as they heard the order of the clerk,
one of them went up-stairs to Beechnut’s room and
brought down his valise. In the mean time Beechnut
paid his bill. He then followed the porter down-stairs to
the door. The porter opened the coach door and put
Beechnut’s valise inside. Beechnut then got in himself,
saying to the driver as he got in,
BEECHNUT’S RETURN. 69

Driving about town. The depot. The baggage.



“Thirty-three, Kilby-street.”
The porter shut the coach door when Beechnut had
taken his seat, and then the coachman drove on.

Beechnut spent an hour in driving rapidly from place
to place about the city, attending to the business which
had. been committed to him. At some places he made
purchases, and brought out the parcels which contained
what he bought and put them into the coach. At other
places he left directions to have the goods sent to Fran-
conia by express, sometimes because the quantity was too
great for him to take along with him, and sometimes be-
cause the things could not be got ready in time for him
to take them. At length he ordered the hackman to
drive him to the railway station, and he reached it just as
the first bell was ringing, which was ten minutes before
the train was to leave.

He bought his ticket at the ticket-office, and then went
along with his valise to the place where the baggage was
to be checked. There was a preat pile of trunks, carpet-
bags, and portmanteaus there, and the baggage-master
was attaching checks to them. There was a young girl
standing by, with a trunk and a band-box near her, wait-
ing for her turn, and looking anxious and. distressed.
Beechnut asked. her if he could help her.

“T want to get a check for my baggage,” said she,
‘and I am afraid there will not be time; for the bell has
rang already.”

“Oh yes, there will be time,” said Beechnut. “’'They
will not start till all the baggage is taken in. Where are
you going P”

The girl told Beechnut where she was going, and so
70 CAROLINE.

His adventures in getting home,



Patent ee

Beechnut assists a stranger.

Beechnut, taking her trunk and band-box, carried them

forward to the baggage-master, and said,

«Will you be good enough to check this baggage now ;
it is for a lady.”

The baggage-master asked him where it was going,
and Beechnut told him. The man then selected the
proper checks, and fastening one of each on the trunk
and on the band-box, by means of a little strap that was
attached to the check, he gave the others to Beechnut,
and Beechnut gave them to the girl. The girl seemed
very much relieved, and immediately went away to get
her seat in the car.

A moment afterward Beechnut got his own check, and
then took his seat in one of the cars. Presently the bell
tolled, the whistle sounded, and the whole train began
slowly to move out of the station.

Beechnut had a great variety of adventures that day,
in getting home. The train that he was in was detained
for an hour, by some derangement of the machinery, and
then, after that, having, by this detention, lost its right
to the road, it was detained several times, at various
branches, waiting for the other trains. When, at last,
Beechnut reached the place where he was to leave the
railroad and take the stage, he found that the stage was
gone. It was now five o’clock, and he was extremely
anxious to get home that night, knowing very well that,
after such a fire, his presence at Franconia, at the earliest
possible moment, would be very urgently needed. He
accordingly hired a wagon to carry him. There was a boy
to go, todrive. The distance was only about twenty-five
miles, and Beechnut hoped to get home at ten o'clock.
He went on, without difficulty, for about ten miles,
BEECHNU'T’S RETURN. 71





The boy refuses to go on. Beechnut in difficulty.

though the roads were very wet, being everywhere filled
with pools and streams of water ; for it had rained incess-
antly all the day, and it seemed to rain faster and faster
as the night came on.

At last, just as it began to grow pretty dark, they came
in the wagon to a long low place, near a pond, where the
road was overflowed with water for a great distance be-
fore them. The boy stopped, and said that he should not
dare to go through that water. Beechnut examined the
place as well as he could, and thought there was no
serious danger; but all his efforts to inspire the boy with
courage sufficient to undertake the passage, were vain.
The truth was, the boy was beginning to be tired of the
dismal expedition that he had been sent upon, and was
very glad to have anything occur to release him from the
necessity of going on three hours longer in the darkness
and rain. He therefore positively refused to go any
farther.

“Well,” said Beechnut, “I will pay you for what you
have done, and you may go back.”

So Beechnut paid him the proper proportion of the sum
which had been agreed upon for the whole journey, and
then got out of the wagon.

“ Now,” said he, “ give me my valise.”’

“ But what are you going to do? ” said the boy.

“E don’t know,” said Beechnut. “I am going to do
something. [ will consider and decide after you have
gone.”

So the boy turned his wayon round, and bidding Beech-
nut good-night, he drove away.

Beechnut had his umbrella over his head, and his
valise in his hand. He went out to the side of the road,
72 CAROLINE.

Beechnut determines to wade through the water. His various preparations.



and found a vacant place among some _ bushes, which
afforded him a little shelter. It is true it rained as much
in that place as in any other, but there was no wind there
to drive the rain under the umbrella. Here Beechnut
began to undress himself, taking off his clothes with one
hand, and holding his umbrella over his head with the
other. His valise he had previously put down upon the
ground at his feet. As fast as he took his clothes off he
folded them up carefully, and put them on his valise.
When all his clothes were off, he put his great coat on
again, with nothing underneath it. He thought that this
coat would be a sufficient protection for him in case he
should meet any one coming, and besides, it would keep
him from being cold. He supposed that the skirts of his
coat would probably get wet, as he waded, but this, he
concluded, would be of no great consequence. He could
wring them out again, when he got to the other side.

After putting on his coat, Beechnut bound his other
clothes snugly to his valise by means of two straps which
passed over the top of it. He then cut a long staff from
the bushes growing near him, and finally, taking up the
valise in his hand again, by means of a leather handle
that was attached to it in front, he went back to the road,
and then began to walk forward into the water, holding
his valise in one hand, and his staff and umbrella in the
other.

It was now quite dark, and as Beechnut went on
through the water, he was guided by the reflection of the
sky upon it, and by the lines of trees and thickets which
rose like dark walls on each side of the road. He kept
as nearly as possible in the middle between these bounds.
He felt somewhat afraid, but he knew that as it was
BEECHNUT’S RETURN. 73



He finds a shelter, The farmer. The rain ceases.





a road that he was walking upon, it was not probable
that the water would deepen suddenly, and then, besides,
his staff, though he was very much encumbered in using
it, by having to hold the umbrella in the same hand, was
still of some service to him in enabling him to feel his
way.

He went through
the water in this way
safely. In fact, he
reached the end of it
sooner than he had
expected, As soon
as he came out of
the water, he found
that by good fortune
there was a barn and
a shed near, close by
the side of the road.
Beechnut went in
under the shed and
put on his clothes a
there. The roof of the FORDING
shed afforded him a perfect shelter. There was a farm-
er’s house a little beyond, and Beechnut, when he was
dressed, went to it and applied for a horse and wagon to
carry him the rest of the journey.

The farmer hesitated about letting his horse go out on
such a dark and rainy night. Beechnut told him that he
thought it was not going to rain much more. Im fact the
rain had then almost entirely ceased, and the farmer, on
coming out to the door to look, found that the clouds were
breaking away, and in one place the moon was beginning


74. CAROLINE.

Beechnnt astonished to see Mrs Henry’s house standing.



to shine through. So the farmer harnessed up the horse
and carried Beechnut home.

When they drove up to Mrs. Henry’s house, , Beech-
nut found, to his utter amazement, instead of the melan-
choly heap of smoking ruins which he had expected to
see, that the house and all the buildings around it were
standing safe and sound, just as he had left them a
week before. He could scarcely believe his eyes. He
could not think it possible that Phonny would have
written him such a letter to deceive him, and yet there
the buildings stood in all their integrity, with the moon
shining upon them as calmly and peacefully as ever.

There were no lights visible in the house, for it was
very late, and the family had all retired. In fact, it was
past midnight. Beechnut paid and dismissed the farmer,
and began to consider how he could get in without dis-
turbing the family.

He went into the barn and got a ladder. He carried
this ladder round to the back side of the house, and set it
up there against a shed. He mounted to the top of the
shed, and walked along upon the roof until he came to
a window which opened into his own room. He opened
the window as noiselessly as possible, and crept in. He
struck a light, made a fire, warmed and dried himself,
and then went to bed. By half-past one o’clock he was
sound asleep.

The next morning, when Phonny came to know that
his letter had actually been sent, and learned how much
trouble it had occasioned, he was very much concerned.

“J did not think there was any harm,” said he, “in
making up an imaginary story of a house taking fire.”

“There was nothing wrong in doing it,” said Beechnut,
BEECHNCUT’S RETURN. 75

Truth and fiction.





“and there would have been no harm to come from it, if
you made it all imaginary, that is, if it had been some
fictitious owse that you had burned down with your
fictitious fire. For truth and fiction,” continued Beechnut,
“are in some respects like sugar and salt. Each is very
good in its place, but it does not do to mix them to-
gether.”




76 CAROLINE.

a ed ————-

Phonny comes to see the valise opened. The skates.

CHAPTER VI.

THE PARTY.

PuHOoNNY always took a great interest in the opening
of Beechnut’s trunk or valise whenever Beechnut came
back from any of his journeys, for he was almost always
sure of finding something to amuse and interest him
there. In fact Beechnut often brought some small pre-
sents on such occasions.

Accordingly, on the morning after Beechnut’s sudden
return from Boston, as described in the last chapter,
Phonny went into his room before. breakfast, to see what
he had brought home. Malleville followed him. She
wished to see too. When the children went in, Beechnut
was examining the clothes which he had taken off the
evening before, to see if they were dry.

“ Beechnut,” said Phonny, “when are you going to
open your valise P”

« Pretty soon,” said Beechnut, “ though there is nothing
there that you will wish to see. Except that I have been
buying me anew pair of skates.”

“ Skates!” said Phomny, “‘ why it is August. It is no
time to buy skates in August.”

‘Ah, but I like to be in season with such things,” said
Beechnut. “I saw a new kind of skates in Boston, and
so 1 bought a pair.”

Beechnut was unstrapping his valise as he said this, and
doy

THE PARTY. 77



a

Strange mistake. Beechnut’s surprise. Phonny takes the skates.

Phonny stood by anticipating with great interest the
moment when the skates should come into view. At
length Beechnut opened the valise and-took out a large
paper parcel from it. He opened the parcel and took
from it a pair of superior skates, highly-finished and full-
rigged. Phonny seized one of them while Beechnut held
the other.

« 'There,” said Beechnut, “that’s what I call a first-rate
pair of skates.”

As he said this, he applied the skate to his foot by way
of showing Phonny what an excellent fit it would be. He
found, however, that it was not long enough for his foot
by an inch or more. He looked extremely astonished as
he made this discovery, and exclaimed in a tone of great
apparent disappointment,

“ Upon my word, if they are not too small for me. How
ridiculous it was in me not to try them on before I bought
them.”

In the mean time, Phonny, greatly excited, had ap-
plied the other skate to his own foot. It fitted him exactly.

“Tt is just right for me, Beechnut,” said Phonny. “ Ex-
actly right for me,—look !”

Beechnut assumed a very comical expression of disap-
pointment and chagrin.

“'The next time I buy skates,” said he, “I think I
shall have sense enough first to try them on.”

“ You must let me have them,” said Phonny, “they are
just exactly right! see!”

“Yes,” said Beechnut, despondingly, “I suppose IL
must. They will never be of any use to me.”

So Phonny seized the skates and ran off to show them
to his mother.
78 CAROLINE.





= ent

Talk about the party. A new delay in respect to the party. Reason for it.



Malleville, not caring much about skates, rernained
with Beechnut.

“ we can have our party.”

“ What party ?” said ‘Beechnut.

“ Why, Caroline is going to have a party;” said Malle-
ville.

“ Ah,” rejoined Beechnut. “ And is she going to invite
me?”

“Yes,” said Malleville. “She is waiting for you to
come home.”

“T am sure I am very much obliged to her for her
politeness,” said Beechnut.

“JT don’t think it is her politeness,” said Malleville.
“T guess she is waiting for you, so that she can have a
better time.”

Beechnut smiled, but said nothing.

Notwithstanding Malleville’s expectations tnat the
party would take place immediately now that Beechnut
had returned, her pleasure was destined to another delay,
for just as Caroline had frxed upon the day a second
time, she heard that Malleville’s brother Wallace,
Phonny’s cousin, was coming to Franconia in a few days
to spend his college vacation, and that he was going to
bring with him one of his classmates, a young gentleman
from New York, named Livingston. Caroline accord-
ingly concluded to postpone her party until Wallace and
Livingston should arrive. She thought very justly that
the party would be a much pleasanter one to all who
should attend it, if these young strangers could be among
her guests.

At length, one evening about five o’clock, the stage~
THE PARTY. 79







Livingston and Wallace arrive. Livingston and Beechnut.

coach drove up to Mrs. Henry’s door, and Wallace and
Livingston descended from it.

Livingston was a tall and very handsome boy, with
dark silken hair, and black eyes. His countenance was
marked with a very gentle, and at the same time with a
very thoughtful and intellectual, expression. He said but
little, but seemed to look kindly and thoughtfully upon
every thing, and upon every person, that he saw. As
soon as he arrived, he went first into the house, with
Wallace, to pay his respects to Mrs. Henry.

“ How do you do, Livingston,” said Mrs. Henry, as she
gave him her hand. “I am very glad to see you.”

Livingston gave Mrs. Henry his hand, and looked into
her face with a pleased and happy expression of counten-
ance, but said nothing. Mrs. Henry thought she had
never seen so handsome a boy.

He held his cap in his hand, and he wore a sort of
frock coat, that was buttoned up to his chin.

Wallace then took Livingston out, to show him the
yards and the gardens, and the buildings of the farm.
Livingston followed Wallace about, and looked at every
thing very attentively ; and he appeared to be very much
pleased with what he saw. The scene was, in some re-
spects, quite novel to him, for he had been brought up in
a city, and knew very little about the fixtures and appoint-
ments of a farm.

In the course of their walk, the boys met Beechnut
coming out of the garden.

“< Here comes Beechnut,” said Wallace.

“Beechnut,” said Livingston, extending his hand to
him in a very cordial manner, “I am very glad to see
you. I have heard about you very often.”
80 CAROLINE.
The rocks and precipices. Invitations to the party. Plan of the party.

Livingston was particularly interested in the aspect of
the rocks and mountains behind Mrs. Henry’s house.
He proposed to Wallace to go up there with him, at once.
Wallace said that there would not be time to go up before
tea,—and after tea it would be nearly dark. Livingston
then proposed that they should get up e&rly the next
morning, and climb up to a certain summit that he
pointed cut, before sunrise. To this plan Wallace readily
agreed. Phonny and Malleville wished to go too, but
when the morning came, and Wallace called them, they
were too sleepy to get up. So Livingston and Wallace
went alone, and they had a very pleasant excursion.

During that day the invitations came for Caroline’s
party. ‘There were five persons invited from Mrs. Henry’s,
namely, Livingston, Wallace, Beechnut, Malleville, and
Phonny. Malleville was greatly delighted at receiving
her note, and she danced about with it for joy. Living-
ston said that he was glad that there was going to be a
party; for he should hke very much to see the girls and
boys of Franconia together. Beechnut, as soon as he
had read his note, sent Malleville to carry it up-stairs to
his room, and put it in a certain drawer there.

“You will go to Caroline’s party, will you not?”
said she, walking away backward with the note in her
hand.

“In the evening, some time,” said Beechnut. “1 will
come in season to bring you safely home.”

The plan of the party was for the company to assemble
at five o’clock. They were to spend one hour in the gar-
dens and grounds, and then to go into the house for tea,
at six o’clock. Taking tea was to occupy about half an
hour, and after that there were to be two hours for games
THE PARTY. 81

The hall. Objects of interest in it, Receiving the company,



and plays, and then, at half-past eight, the children were
to go home.

The room called the hall was the apartment in which
Caroline’s company were to be entertained. This room
was selected partly because it was larger than any other
room, and partly because there were-so many books and
playthings in the desks and closets which it contained.
The children were first received, however, in the parlour.
The parlour was in the front part of the house, and was
very beautifully furnished. It had a very soft carpet upon
the floor, and rich crimson damask curtains to the win-
dows, and a centre-table with a chandelier over it im the
middle of the room, and sofas, arm-chairs, ottomans, and
other luxurious seats about the sides. The boys and
girls, as they came up in small parties, to the door, were
admitted by Susan, the maid who generally waited upon
Caroline, and conducted to small bed-rooms, in which
they put away their hats and bonnets, and then ushered
into the parlour, where Caroline was standing, surrounded
by her friends, ready to receive them.

As the company came in, some walked about the room
to see what was there, and some took their seats upon the
sofas and ottomans. They were at first quite silent, and
looked upon each other, and especially upon Wallace and
Livingston, with a constrained air. In fact, though all
the rest of the company were perfectly acquainted with
each other, they were somewhat afraid of the strangers,
though not morc so, it is to be presumed, than the stran-
gers were afraid of them.

After a little time Caroline proposed that the company
should go out into the garden, and as they all seemed
much pleased with this proposition, she led the way into

G
82 CAROLINE.



Books and playthings. Annie Linnand Ellen. Wallace and Livingston.

the hall. From the hall there was a door leading out
into a little green-yard, through which there was a pas-
sage to the garden. As they passed through the hall,
some of the children asked Caroline to show them her
playthings. So Caroline stopped to do this. She opened
first a large, deep drawer. ‘The drawer was full of picture-
books and. boxes of playthings. Caroline took a number
of these things out, and distributed them about to the
children, and she opened some boxes and took out the
toys which were inside of them and strewed them all
about the chairs and tables that were there. The
younger children gathered around her as she did this, and
examined the curiosities and toys with the greatest in-
terest. Among the rest was little Annie Linn.

Annie continually called to her sister Ellen, who was
at this time about fourteen years of age, to look at one
wonderful or beautiful thing after another, as Caroline
brought them successively to view. Ellen seemed to
take pleasure in looking at the playthings on her own
account, but she was still more interested im them on
account of her sister Annie, who kept fast hold of her
hand all the time, and seemed very desirous that she
should see all.

While a part of the company had stopped thus to look
at Caroline’s playthings, the rest passed on, and went out
into a little piazza which opened upon the green-yard.
Livingston remained behind looking at the playthings.
Wallace had gone out. Wallace came back, however,
to the door a moment afterward, and called Livingston
to come out into the garden.

“ Well,” said Livingston, “ I will come presently.”

“ No, come now,” said Wallace, “here is a swing.”
THE PARTY. 83

They go to the swing. Order. Ellen puts back the playthings.

“Well,” said Livingston.

“Yes, children,” said Caroline. “Let us go to the
swing.”

So Caroline arose, and pushing the playthings aside,
was about to follow Livingston and Wallace out to the
swing, when Ellen Linn said to her,

“ Let us put the playthings in order first.”

“ Oh, no,” said Caroline, “Susan will do that. I hate
to put things in order.”

“Then what will you do when you are married ?” said
one of the little children. “ How will you keep your
house in order?”

“ Oh, I shall have plenty of servants to do that,” re-
plied Caroline, laughing; and so saying, she ran off out
of the room, followed by nearly all the children. Two or
three only remained. Ellen Linn was among them.

She took the seat which Caroline had left, saying,

“JT will put them in order. I shall like to do it. And
we will look at them all, as we put them back.”

In the mean time, Caroline, followed by her guests,
went to the swing. The swing was suspended between
two trees, which grew a little at one side, near the en-
trance to the garden. There was a great variety of
shrubbery around the place, so that when swinging in it
one seemed to be swinging in a bower. ‘There were seats
too, on each side of the swing, for those who were waiting
their turn. After showing her companions the swing, and
allowing those who chose to try it an opportunity of doing
so, Caroline suddenly said to those who were sitting on
the seats,

“There is a rocking-boat, girls; let us go and see the

rocking-boat.”
G2
8&4 CAROLINE.



The rocking-boat. Some account of it. Rocking in it.





“What is a rocking-boat ?” asked one of the children.

“ Oh, it is a kind of a boat to rock in,” replied Caroline.
“ Come and see it.”

A considerable number of the party immediately arose
and followed Caroline down through a winding path,
which led through a copse of shrubbery, until at length
they came to a shady nook where there was a platform,
and upon the platform, what Caroline called her rocking-
boat. It was made somewhat in the form of a boat, only
the bottom being rounded from front to back, it could be
rocked to and fro ;—not from side to side, like a cradle,
but backward and forward, like a rocking-herse.

“ Now get in,
said Caroline, “and I
will rock you.”

So the children
clambered in, and
Caroline began to
rock them. Wallace
and Livingston help-
ed her. Presently
they all got into the
boat, and went on
rocking it from with-
in. This they could
easily do by bending
their bodies back~

THE ROCKING BOAT ward and forward, as
if they were bowing to each other. Presently, Caroline
proposed that they should sing; and pitching the tune,
she led off in some simple song, which most of the com-
pany knew. She was soon joined by other voices, and

19


THE PARTY. 85
Livingston’s observations. His inquiries.

the whole company of voyagers were soon singing in
chorus, keeping time with the motion of the boat, im a
very joyous manner.

After this the company separated, and rambled for some
time around the gardens, enjoying themselves in various
ways, now seated in bowers, now walking in shady paths,
and now pursuing one another on the little grass plats
which they found here and there about the garden.
Caroline entertained them everywhere with her sprightly
conversation. She was a very beautiful girl, and as she
was dressed very prettily on this occasion, she atiracted
very general attention and regard. Livingston, as well as
all the rest, admired her beauty, her accomplishments,
and. her ready wit.

He noticed all the other girls also, who were of the
party, and without seeming to do so, he watched their
appearance and demeanour, and formed his own opinion
of their dispositions and characters from what he saw.
He did not know the names of any of the boys and girls,
however, except so, far as he learned them by accident,
or was told by Wallace. He took occasion several times,
in the course of the afternoon, to speak to Wallace aside,
in some arbour or walk, whenever he had an opportunity
for a moment’s private conversation, to ask questions
about the various persons who attracted his notice.

For instance, at one time, very soon after they came
into the garden, as the children were looking to see Uncle
Ben water some flower-beds with a little watering engine,
by means of which he was throwing the water all around
him through hose and pipe, as firemen do at a fire, Living-
ston and Wallace were standing together somewhat aside
from the rest, watching the operation. Caroline was ata
86 CAROLINE.
Augusta on the sun-dial. Wallace’s account of ENen Linn.

little distance from them, having a small child, named
Augusta, with her. She had lifted Augustaup and seated
her upon the top of a sun-dial, which stood there, in order
to enable her to see better. It was obviously a very hard
lift for Caroline, to get Augusta up. Wallace and Living-
ston did not know that she intended to do it, until it was
too late to help her.

“Caroline seems to be a very kind-hearted girl,” said
Livingston.

“Yes,” said Wallace, “ she is a very kind-hearted girl,
indeed.”

“ And who is that sedate-looking girl that we left be-
hind in the hall, putting the playthings back, when we
came out?”’

“That was Bllen Linn,’’ said Wallace.

« She is a very good girl I believe,” continued Wallace,
“though I don’t know her very much. I believe she is
not very easy to get acquainted with.”

“ Where does she live?” asked Livingston.

“ Oh, she lives in a small house on the bank of the
stream a little way below the bridge. It is a beautiful
place,”

“Ts it as beautiful as this ?” said Livingston.

“Oh no,” said Wallace, “it is not like this at all. It is
a small, plain house. But then it is in a very pretty
place, and everything is very pretty aroundit. And they
say it is all Ellen’s work.”

“ Eillen’s!” said Livingston.

“Yes,” said Wallace. “ She takes the whole care of all
her brother's and sister’s affairs, and of her mother’s too
in fact, 1 believe. Beechnut thinks she is the finest girl
in town.”
THE PARTY. 87

Livingston’s walk with Augusta. He finds Ellen.

“Then she must be a very fine girl indeed,” said. Liv-
ingston. “Nobody can judge better than Beechnut.”

Just at this time Caroline came over to where Living-
ston and Wallace were standing, and began to talk with
them; and thus the conversation between Livingston
and Wallace was interrupted. A minute or two after-
ward, Livingston, taking an opportunity when Wallace
was saying something to Caroline, turned to a little girl
who was standing near, and asked her to take a walk with
him to see some flowers. So he took the child by the
hand and walked along. He talked with his little com-
panion as he went, calling her attention to everything
curious or wonderful that he saw, until at last, after tak-
ing quite a little circuit among the paths and alleys of the
garden, he came to the gate by which they had entered.

« And now let us go into the house,” said Livingston,
“and see what they are doing in the hall.”

“ Well,” said the child.

So Livingston walked into the house leading the
child by the hand.

Ellen looked up at him as he came in with a quiet and
happy, and yet somewhat timid expression. ‘There were
four or five children of various ages with her, and they
were all engaged in examining the playthings, and put-
ting them away—Ellen superintending the operation.

“ They ought not to have left you to have all the trouble
of putting these playthings away,” said Livingston, speak-~
ing apparently to the whole group.

“ Oh we like to do it’ said Annie. “We like to do it
very much.”

« What is your name?” said Livingston.

« Annie”
88 CAROLINE.

Conversation with Annie. The broken image. Elien’s decision.

“« Annie what ?” said Livingston.

“ Annie Linn,” replied Annie.

“ And is Ellen your sister?” said Livingston, looking
toward Ellen.

«“ Yes,” said Annie, “and Rodolphus is my brother.”

Ellen looked up at Livingston with a slight expression
of surprise in her countenance. She wondered how he
came to know her name. She was pleased to find that
he knew it, and yet she did not know why. She felt a
little better acquainted with him than she had before, but
yet she did not feel enough acquainted with him to speak
to him. Livingston wished to speak to her, but he did
not speak, for he did not know what to say-

Just at this time, Annie spied among the toys an image
of a cow with only three legs. She was greatly amused
at this discovery—a cow with three legs being in her es-
timation a very funny thing. She gave it to Ellen to
look at. Livingston told her that one of the legs had
come out. He observed that the legs were formed of pegs
that were cut in the proper shape, and inserted into the
body of the cow. Annie looked for the leg, and found it
at length in the bottom of the box. She took the cow in
one hand and the leg m the other, and ran off to show
it to Caroline. In a few minutes she came back, saying
with an appearance of great delight, that Caroline had
given the cow to her.

«She says it 1s not good for anything, and that I may
have it,” said Annie, “and I mean to get Beechnut to
fasten the leg in again.”

Ellen shook her head as Annie said this, though in an
almost imperceptible manner. She lifted Annie up into
her lap and took the image out of her hand and said,
THE PARTY. 89





Livingston’s doubt and perplexity. Ellen puts up the playthings.

“ No, Annie, you can’t have it. We will put it back
in its place again.”

“Why can’t I have it, Ellen ?” asked Annie, looking
up to her with a countenance expressive of great astonish-
ment.

« You must not ask me why now,’ said Ellen. “We
will put it back in its place.”

Annie appeared very much disappointed, but she did
not speak another word.

“T wonder what the reason is,” thought Livingston to
himself, “ why she is not willing that Annie should have
the cow. Is it delicacy—because she thinks that Annie’s
carrying the cow to Caroline was in some sense asking
for it, and that a present ought not to be accepted that
seemed to be asked for,—or is it pride——because she is not
willing that her sister should depend for her happiness on
Caroline’s broken playthings? Whichever it is,” he con-
tinued, “I like her the better for it. In fact, I hope it is
pride.”

Whatever may have been Ellen’s feeling, she seemed a
little embarrassed and troubled by the occurrence. She
went to work very diligently, putting the playthings
away. Livingston was trying to think what he could do
or say to make her feel at ease again, when he heard the
voices of the children coming in from the garden. Ina
minute more they all entered the hall. They had come
in, as Caroline said, to see if tea was ready. They found
that it would not be ready for half an hour.

So after rambling about the hall a few minutes, they
all moved out into the garden again, and as by this time
Ellen had put the playthings all away, she and the
children who had been with her went too.
90 CAROLINE.







Livingston talks with Annie. Proposed walk.



CHAPTER VII.
THE END OF THE PARTY.

As the company went into the garden and began ram-
bling about in the alleys at the entrance of it, Annie stop-
ped a moment to look ata large butterfly that came flying
along near her. The butterfly had lighted upon a flower
in a border, and Annie was in the walk opposite to it,
standing with her hands behind her, and leaning forward
so as to see. Livingston came up to the place and began
to look at the butterfly too. Annie was a little afraid of
him,—of Livingston, that is to say,—not of the butterfly.

“TIT am glad you came to this party,” said Livingston.

When Annie heard Livingston say this, she was less
afraid of him than she had been before.

“T wish you would go and find Ellen,” said Livingston,
“and ask her if you may take a little walk with me
around. the garden.”

“ There is Ellen,” said Annie, pointing.

“ Well,” said Livingston, “run and ask her.”

So Annie ran toward Ellen, while Livingston remained
where he was, following her with his eyes.

Ellen stooped down to hear what Annie wished to say.
Annie made her request, and pointed back to Livingston.
Ellen raised her eyes and saw Livingston standing still
and looking toward her, with a smile upon his counte-
nance. She smiled too, and told Annie that she might
THE END OF THE PARTY. 91



Annie gets leave to go and take a walk. Coaxing.

go. So Annie ran back to Livingston and gave him her
hand, and they both then walked along together down
the central walk of the garden.

“YT amsorry that you could not have that cow,” said
Livingston. “ Why did not you coax Ellen to let you
keep it ?”

“Oh, it would not do any good to coax her,” replied
Annie, “she never will be coaxed.”

“Sometimes [ can coax Rodolphus a little,” she con-
tinued. “ And I can coax my mother.”

“And your father!” said Livingston, inquiringly,—
as if he wished to ask how it was in respect to him.

Annie looked up somewhat surprised, and said in a low
and. solemn tone,

“ My father is dead. Did not you know that my father
was dead P”

« No,” replied Livingston, “and I am very sorry to
hear it.”

“ Yes,” said Annie, “he is dead. He was frozen.”

“ Frozen!” repeated Livingston.

“Yes,” said Annie. “ He was frozen in the snow;
but I was not frozen, because I was covered up warm
with buffalos.”

“Then you have not any father to take care of you,”
said Livingston.

“No,” replied Annie. “Ellen takes care of me,—and
sometimes,” she added, after a moments pause, “my
mother takes care of me too.”

«“ And where do you live? ” asked Livingston.

“We live down beyond the mill,” said Annie. “ You
turn in bya tree. If you will come and see me some day,
I will show you my garden.”
92 CAROLINE.



Annie gives Livingston a great deal of information. The winding path.



“Have you got a garden? ” said Livingston.

“Yes,” said Annie. “Ellen made it for me,—only
Rodolphus dug up the ground. I raked it myself, and
Ellen helped me plant the seeds.”

Talking in this manner, Livingston and Annie passed
entirely through the garden, and came, at length, to a
gate, which led out into a field beyond. It was the same
gate that Caroline, Malleville, and Phonny had gone
through, in commencing their walk, on the day when they
were out in the shower.

“Where does this gate lead to? ” asked Livingston.

“Qh it leads to a path,” said Annie.

“ And where does the path lead to P” asked Livingston.

“Tt leads to a brook,” replied Annie.

“ Let us go and see,” said Livingston.

So Livingston opened the gate, and he and Annie went
through.

The path led by a winding way through a thicket, down
to the brook. Livingston saw some flowers growing near
a small heap of sticks and brushwood. He stepped out of
the path to gather them. In doing so, he happened to ob-
serve a small crooked stem of a bush, with four crooked
branches growing out from it, in such a manner as to pre-
sent some rude resemblance to a cow. At least there was
resemblance enough to suggest the form of Caroline's toy
cow to Livingston’s mind. So he took out his knife and
cut off the part of the stem which had attracted his
attention.

“What are you going to do with that?” said Annie.

“1 thought that perhaps I could make a cow of it for
you,” replied Livingston.

So saying he held the rude image wp, for Annie to
THE END OF THE PARTY. 93



Livingston finds a curiosify for Annie. They are called to supper.

see. Annie looked at it a moment, with great curiosity
and interest.

“Yes,” said she, “that is a cow,—but perhaps Ellen
will not let me have it.”

“We will ask her,” said Livingston.

So saying he stepped back into the walk again, and be-
gan to examine his piece of wood.

“If I knew how to carve,” said Livingston, “I could
make a very good cow out of it.”

“ Beechnut knows how to carve,” said Annie.

“Then I] will ask Beechnut to carve it for me,” said
Livingston.

“For me, you mean,” said Annie.

“No, for me,” said Livingston. “I shall ask him to
carve it for me, and then [ shall give it to you.”

Annie did not understand such nice distinctions as
this very well, and so she was silent for a moment. Pre-
sently she added,

“ But I am afraid that Ellen won’t let me keep it.”

“We willsee. Don’t tell her anything about it till it
is done. It is a secret.”

Just at this moment Livingston thought he heard
some one calling him.

“ Hark!” said he.

Annie listened a moment, and then ran up the path a
few steps till she came in sight of the gate. She saw
Phonny. Phonny had climbed up upon the gate, and he
stood there looking down the path.

« Annie,” said Phonny, as soon as Annie came in view,
“vou and Livingston must come in, for supper is ready.”

So Annie and Livingston came up the path again, and
entering the gate they walked together through the gar-
94 CAROLINE.





Arrangement of the supper-room. The children assemble.



den to the house. When they came in, they found the
company all assembled in the hall for tea.

The room had been very judiciously arranged for the
ceremony of taking tea. The apartment itself was pretty
long, and near one end of it was a small table, with tea-
pots and a large number of cups and saucers upon it.
Caroline was seated at this table ready to pour out the tea.
She sat in a chair which was considerably higher than
a common chair, and was*without arms. It was made
expressly for a lady to sit In In pouring out tea. Susan
stood by her side, holding a large waiter in her hands.
The waiter had-a sugar-bow] and a cream-pitcher upon it.

Near the other end of the room was a large table, set
out on the floor, with plates upon it. Seven or eight of
the smaller children were seated around this table. In
fact, it had been placed there expressly for those children
who were too small to hold their cups and plates in their
hands when taking their tea. Alli the older boys and
girls of the party were seated around the room upon sofas
and chairs. For all these, of course, the tea and cake
were to be carried round by Susan.

As soon as Annie came in, she left Livingston and
went directly to EYen. Ellen led her to a vacant chair
at the large table, and placed her there. ‘Then she went
back to her own seat, which was upona chair in a
window, next to Rodolphus. Livingston took a seat next
to Wallace. Wallace had reserved the seat for him.
As soon as all were thus seated, Caroline began to pour
out tea.

As fast as Caroline poured out the tea, which, by the
way, Caroline’s mother had taken care should be of no
more than the proper strength for guests so young, she
THE END OF THE PARTY. 95



Pouring out tea. Caroline. Susan, The silver vessels.

placed the cups upon Susan’s waiter, and Susan carried
them around the room to ‘the company. When Susan
came to the great table, she put the cups on it herself for
each child, instead of allowing the children themselves
to attempt to take them. She, however, put the cream-
pitcher and the sugar-bowl upon the table, and allowed
each one of the children to help herself to cream and
sugar as she pleased. Each one, after thus helping
herself, passed the sugar-bowl and the cream-~-pitcher
to her next neighbour, and thus these articles moved
from one guest to another all around the table, and then
Susan put them on her waiter again and took them
away.

The children were very much pleased with this ar-
rangement, partly because it was of itself a great plea-
sure to them to be allowed to help themselves to cream
and sugar, particularly to such rich cream and such white
sugar as they were provided with on this occasion; but
more especially from the fact that the pitcher and bowl
which they used were of silver, and there were many of
the children who had never seen such large vessels of
silver before.

There was one child in the party who was even still
younger than the children who had seats at the large
table—too young in fact to sit with them there. She was
with her sister at a small work-table in a corner of the
room, very near to where Livingston and Wallace were
sitting. Livingston looked at her, and recollected that
it was the same child that he had seen Caroline lift up
upon the sun-dial. Her sister’s name was Anne.

Livingston asked the child what her name was, but the
little girl looked afraid and did not answer.
96 CAROLINE.



Augusta and Anne. The cake carried round.



“ Her name is Augusta,” said Anne. “She is afraid
of strangers.”

“ She looks pretty young,” said Livingston.

“Yes,” said Anne, “she is too young altogether to
come to parties, but then I had to bring her or else stay
at home myself.”

“ How was that?” asked Livingston.

“ Why my mother has gone away,” said Anne, “ and
left Augusta and me alone; and there was nobody
at home to take care of Augusta. So I raked up the
fire, and locked the house, and brought Augusta with
me.”

“ T shall have to run home a minute or two after tea,”
continued Anne, “to see if the fire ts safe, and I don’t
know what Augusta will say to being left here alone.”

“ No,” said Augusta, “ you must not go home.”

Just then Susan came by with two silver cake-baskets
filled with cake upon her waiter, and so in order to divert
Augusta’s attention from the subject, Anne gave her a
piece of cake.

The. whole party appeared to enjoy the tea-drinking
very highly,—the room being filled with the sound of
merry voices all the time. After tea the children went
out wpon the piazza and into the yard to remain there
until the tables could be moved away, and the lamps
lighted ; for now the twilight was beginning to come on.
In about fifteen minutes Susan came out, and after look-
ing about the yard until she found Caroline, she ad-
vanced toward her and said in a very respectful manner,

“The room is ready, Miss Caroline.”

There was immediately a general movement back to-
ward the house. Caroline led the way and the rest
THE END OF THE PARTY. 97
The children assemble in the hall for play. Moonlight.

followed, and thus they entered the hall. A great scene
of commotion immediately ensued. Some ran eagerly to
secure favourite seats in different parts of the room.
Some began to propose plays, and went eagerly about the
room to get others to join in them. Some were trying to
form a ring, some to make a line, some were running to
and fro in the exuberance of their joy and delight, and
some were calling upon everybody to sit down and be
stil. One girl in a corner was tying a handkerchief
about the head of another girl for a game of blind man’s
buff, and a third was helding up three fingers before the
one who was thus blinded, and asking her how many
there were, by way of ascertaining whether she could see,
In the midst of all this scene of confusion, one young
lady, about seven years old, had mounted up into a chair,
on one side of the room, and was waving her hand and
calling out in a very emphatic manner,

“ Hush !—Hush !—~ Hush !— Girls! you must not make
such a confusion.”

All this time Livingston stood at the door, looking on
and smiling at the scene.

At length, however, chiefly through the instrumentality
of Caroline’s efforts, something like order was restored,
and the games began. The games continued without
any special interest for about half an hour. During all
this time some of the children were continually going
and coming to and from the piazza and the yard, and
there was a small party seated upon the piazza, talking
together and telling stories. It is true it was now even-
ing, but the air was very balmy and refreshing, and the
moon was shining.

At length, after the party in the hall had been playing

EE
98 CAROLINE.





An outcry. Vain efforts to quiet Augusta. Beechnut comes.



about half an hour, their attention was suddenly arrested
and the play was stopped, by a loud outcry from the
piazza, as if some one of the children were hurt. Several
of the company immediately ran to see what was the
matter. Others said it was only Augusta, and went on
with the play. In the mean time the cry grew louder
and louder. Wallace went out to inquire what was the
matter. He met Rodolphus coming away.

“What is the matter, Rodolphus?” said Wallace, “is
anybody hurt?”

“No,” said Rodolphus. “It is only Augusta crying
because her sister Anne has gone away. Anne has only
gone for a few minutes. She will be back directly.”

The terror which Augusta felt at being left thus alone
was greatly increased at the efforts which the children
made to quiet her. They all gathered around her and
offered her all sorts of consolations, but as usual in such
cases, their efforts were wholly ineffectual. Some told
her in earnest and eager tones that Anne would come
back very soon, some tried to take her up in their arms,
and began to tell her stories, and one girl broke off a
flower from a shrub which was growing in the yard, and
brought that to her,in hopes that it would amuse her.
But all was in vain. Augusta paid no attention to any-
thing that they said or did, but stood passive and motion-
less, and cried. as loud as she could cry.

Just at this juncture, a strange figure suddenly ap-
peared coming round the corner of the house. It proved
to be Beechnut. He walked along the path until he came
pretty near to the piazza, and then he stopped to find out
what was the matter.

“Ts she hurt?” said he, to one of the boys who were
standing near.
THE END OF THE PARTY. 99



His sudden interposition. Its effects.

session

“ No,” said the boy. “ She is only frightened, because
her sister has gone away.”

Beechnut paused a moment, on hearing this, and then
went forward, directly into the circle, and before Augusta
or any of the children around her had time scarcely even
to observe his approach, he took Augusta up in his arms,
and began immediately to talk in her ear in a rapid and
earnest manner, though in a kind and soothing tone, and
at the same time carrying her off entirely away from the
circle that had surrounded her.

“Come to me,” said he. “Iwill take care of you,—I
like you very much; they shall not one of them hurt you.
I will take care of you; you area very good girl; and a
very pretty girl too, and they shall not touch you.”

Augusta was at first immeasurably astonished at find-
ing herself so suddenly lifted up, and carried from the
scene which had terrified her so much. She began to
listen to Beechnut’s words. Beechnut’s earnest assurances
that he would take care of her, and especially his cordial
commendations of her goodness and her béauty, attracted
her attention, and gradually comforted and appeased her.
Beechnut, in the mean time, walked up and down the
yard, carrying her in his arms, and repeating incessantly,
the same words.

“T like you very much. You are an excellent girl, I
am very glad that you are here. I will take care of you.
These children shall not hurt you at all. I like you very
much.”

Augusta lay with her head wpon Beechnut’s shoulder,
sobbing a little now and then, but gradually becoming
more composed, until at length she appeared perfectly

calm.
H 2
100 CAROLINE.





Beechnut’s talk to Augusta. Augusta is quieted.

Beechnut then attempted to find some subject of con-
versation to amuse her. He did not dare, however, to in-
troduce any new subject abruptly, expecting that if he
were to do so he might lose the hold that he had ac-
quired, and that then, on the thought of Anne coming
back into her mind, she would burst into tears again. So
he said,

“TT like you very much, and I like the pretty moon too.
I see the moon in the sky, and I have got you in my
arms, and I am not going to let anybody hurt you. I
am going to show you the moon because you are such a
good girl, and I like you very much.”

Then pausing a moment, and finding that Augusta ap-
peared quite quiet, he said, in a very gentle voice,

“ Can you see the moon ?P”’

Augusta did not answer.

“ Point to the moon with your finger.”

Augusta raised her finger a moment, and pointed to
the moon, and then put it immediately down again.

Presently Beechnut sat down upon a seat in the corner
of the yard, and took Augusta down into his lap.

“ How old are you?” said Beechnut.

“Three years old,” said Augusta.

“ Why, how old you are!” said Beechnut. “Once f
knew a girl who was only two.”

From this, Beechnut went on until he gradually drew
Augusta into quite a conversation, and finally led her
back to the piazza again, where a great many of the chil-
dren were standing, wondering by what sort of magic he
had succeeded im so suddenly quieting the child. Anne
had come back, and Beechnut restored Augusta to her
care. Several of the girls asked Beechnut what he had
THE END OF THE PARTY. 101



A call upon Beechnut for a story. Seating of the audience.



said to Augusta to quiet her. Beechnut smiled, but did
not answer.

After this, some of the older girls and boys gathered
around Beechnut on the piazza, and proposed that he
should tell them a story. Beechnut seldom made any ob-
jection to such a proposition as this, as he could always
make up stories on such occasions, as fast as he could tell
them. So he took his seat on the steps of the piazza, and
prepared to tell a story, while all the more quiet and
thoughtful of the company came around him. Some took
seats on the settee, and others on the steps, by the side of
Beechnut. Before he began, Livingston brought him his
piece of wood, and asked him whether he could not carve
it into a cow, while he was telling his story.

“[ will try,” said Beechnut. “It is quite a respectable
cow now.”





THE sToRy-TELLING
102 CAROLINE.



tenement Mee nd

The carving of the cow. The children assemble in the ‘hall.





So Beechnut took a sharp knife out of his pocket, and
began, at the same time, to carve out the form of the
cow from the material which Livingston had given him,
and. to tell his story. Annie sat next to. him, watching
the progress of his work, and paying little attention to the
tale. Ellen sat next to Annie; she, on her part, listened
to the story, while she still, from time to time, observed
how the carving went on. The others were variously
interested, some in one of Beechnut’s operations, and
some in the other, but all in attitudes of close attention.

The telling of the story occupied about half an hour.
At length, Beechnut came to the conclusion, and rising
from his seat, he said,

«That is the end of the story, and now we will go and
see what they are doing in the hall.”

Beechnut gave the cow to Livingston as they went in.
He had succeeded in making a much better image than
could have been reasonably expected, considering the
nature of the material out of which he worked. Living-
ston took it in his hand and followed the rest of the
company in. They found, when they entered the hall,
that the children that were there had ceased playing, and
were all now taking their seats around the room. The
time had arrived, in fact, for the party to end, and as was
the usual custom, they were taking their places in ex-
pectation that Mrs. Keep would come into the room
where they were, and say a few words to them by way of
bidding them good-night, before they went away.

Mrs. Keep had not yet come in, and so Livingston
beckoned to Annie to come over to his seat. Annie
asked Ellen if she might go, and having obtained per-
mission, she ran across to where Livingston was sitting.
THE END OF THE PARTY. 103

Annie’s cow. Mrs. Keep comes to bid the children good-night.

Livingston gave her the cow, directing her, at the same
time, to go and ask Ellen if she might keep it. Amnie
ran back to Ellen and showed her the present that she
had received. Ellen appeared to be very much pleased.
She looked up to Livingston and smiled. She then
looked toward Beechnut, and thanked him im the same
way-

“ May I keep it?” asked Annie.

“Yes,” said Ellen—“ certainly. I think it is a very
pretty present.”

Just then, the door opened, and Mrs. Keep-came into
the room. The voices were then all hushed, and the
room became entirely still.

Mrs. Keep advanced to a place in the room where all
could see her distinctly, and hear what she had +o say,
and then addressed the company as follows:

“ Young ladies and young gentlemen, | have come to
bid you good-night. I hope you have had a pleasant
time. Itis a great pleasure to have a company of friends
come to visit Caroline, who know so well how to practise
a gentlemanly and ladylike behaviour. Everything has
been this afternoon and evening just as I could wish.
No disputing, no quarreling, no roughness or violence, no
rude and unnecessary noise. When children will take
care of themselves as well as you have done to-day, it is
no more trouble to have a children’s party than it is to
have one of grown people ; and in one respect, I like to
have such a_party better than to have one of gentlemen
and ladies, for I am much more sure that my company
have a good time.”

So saying, Mrs. Keep went round the room and bade
each of the children a kind good-night, and then Susan
104 CAROLINE.



Wallace and Livingston at home. Their conversation about Caroline.

and Caroline brought in their bonnets and cloaks, and
they all prepared to go home.

That evening, about nine o’clock, Wallace and Living-
ston, after they had got home, not feeling sleepy, went
out together to a seat under a tree in Mrs. Henry’s yard,
and as the evening was very pleasant, and the moon
shone in a very bright and cheerful manner, they re-
mained there for some time, talking together about the
party, and about the various persons who were there.
In the course of.-the conversation, Wallace spoke of
Caroline.

“Don’t you think that Caroline is a very beautiful
girl P” said he.

“ Yes,” said Livingston, “very beautiful, indeed; and
she is a very agreeable girl too.”

“She will make an excellent wife for you some of
these days,” said Wallace.

“ Not for me,” said Livingston.

“Why not for you?” asked Wallace.

“ She is a very fine girl,’ said Livingston; “but it will
take a great deal of riches to make her happy.”

“What if it does?” said Wallace ; “you will be just
the one for her, your father is so rich.”

“« How rich do you suppose he is?” asked Livingston.

“ T suppose he is worth one hundred thousand dollars,”
said Wallace.

“ And how much of that do you suppose he ought to
give his sons,” said Livingston, “when they come of
age?”

“ Why—say—half of it,” said Wallace, doubtfully.

“That is fifty thousand. I have three brothers, and




THE END OF THE PARTY. 105



Livingston’s reasoning about his father’s property. His plans of life.

that makes four of us. The money would make about
twelve thousand dollars apiece. The annual income of
twelve thousand may be about eight hundred ; and eight
hundred dollars in New York, where I am going to live,
would not pay the rent of a house.”

“ Not the rent of a house!” said Wallace.

“ No,” said Livingston, “decidedly not; that is, of such
a house as Caroline would want to live in.”

Wallace was silent. He seemed to be musing on what
Livingston had said.

“ Besides,” continued Livingston, “I have no idea of
having my father give half of his property to us boys
when we grow up. He will want the income of it for
himself and my mother in their old age. He began life
himself with nothing. He has worked hard to maintain
us all, and give us the best education, so that we can
begin life for ourselves with the best advantages. When
he shall have done this for us for twenty years, I think
it will be enough. I mean to begin then to make my
own fortune,—and if ever I have a wife, it must be one
that will know how to help me make it.”
106 CAROLINE.

Beechnut begins the story of Jasper. Doubt about the farmer’s name.





CHAPTER VITI.
JASPER.

Tue story which Beechnut related to the children, on
the piazza at Caroline’s party, was about a dog named
Jasper. He began as follows:

“The story which I am going to tell you, ladies and
gentlemen, is about a remarkable dog. In fact he was a
very remarkable dog, indeed.”

“ Yes,” said Phonny, “that will be a good story.”

“ Once there was a farmer,” continued Beechnut, with-
out noticing Phonny’s interruption, “and he had a dog
that lived with him in the woods. He was named
Jasper.”

“'The farmer or the dog?” asked Phonny.

“ The dog,” said Beechnut. “I have forgotten what the
farmer’s name was. I only remember it began with a W.”

“No matter what Azs name was,” said a boy whom
they called Robin, “ tell away upon the story.”

“Was it Williams ?” said one of the children.

“ No,” said Beechnut, “ not Williams.”

“ Woodman,” said another.

“It might possibly have been Woodman,” said Beech-
nut; “that sounds like it. At any rate, we will call it
Woodman, and I will go on with the story.”

All this talking on the part of Beechnut about the
name of the farmer, was of course only his contrivance
JASPER. 107

Mr. Woodman’s house and farm. Great rain.



to make the story which he was about to relate appear
like a sober matter of fact; for although Beechnut never
attempted really to deceive the children, and frequently
told them that they must not put any faith in what he
related to them, unless he should previously assure them
that it was true,—still, in relating his fictitious narra-
tives, he always endeavoured to do it in such a manner as
to make them appear like realities for the time being; and
he resorted to a thousand ingenious methods for strength-
ening the temporary illusion which constitutes the chief
charm of a fictitious tale ;—the one, in fact, on which all
its other charms depend.

“Mr. Woodman,” resumed Beechnut, “was a young
man about twenty years of age, and he had a farm in the
woods, in a new place, ten miles from all the other settle-
ments. He had built a small house in the middle of the
opening which he had made in the forests on his farm,
and was going to be married the next fall. In the mean
time he lived in his house alone. For animals he had a
yoke of oxen and a horse, and he had a barn to keep
them in. He also had a dog. The dog lived in the
house with Mr. Woodman.

“One day there came a great rain. It rained all day
and all the next night, and on the following morning the
ground was so wet everywhere, that Mr. Woodman could
not work upon it. So he concluded that, as his stock of
flour was nearly out, he would go to the settlements and
procure some more flour. His plan was to buy some
wheat, and take it to a mill and get it ground, and then
to bring the flour home in a bag, on horseback. So he
put the empty bag upon his horse, shut the door of his
108 CAROLINE.
Description of the fording-place. Bad road. Great white rock.

house, whistled to Jasper, his dog, to follow him, mounted
upon. his horse, and rode away.

* About a mile from his house there was a river which
he always had to cross, when he went to the settlements.
There was no bridge across this river, and so Mr. Wood-
man was obliged to ford it when he wished to go over.
There was an island in the middle of this river, and Mr.
Woodman in fording the stream usually went first over
to the island, and then after passing across the island, he
would ford the other part of the stream, and so reach the
shore on the farther side.

“The road which led to this river from Mr. Wood-
man’s house, was not much more than a path through
the woods. It was rough, rocky, and crooked; and in
wet weather it was in many places almost impassable, for
there were certain swampy spots where, in riding across,
the horses’ feet would sink down deep, among stones,
roots, and mire.”

“What a road!” said Phonny-.

“« Mr. Woodman, however, proceeded,” continued
Beechnut, “notwithstanding these difficulties. The horse
tramped steadily on in the middle of the path, sometimes
slipping on the rocks, and sometimes sinking in mud and
water; while Jasper chose his way, now on one side of
the road and now on the other, wherever he could find
firm and dry footing.

«“ There was a great white rock forming a sort of preci-
pice near the shore, at the place where the road came
down to the river. When Mr. Woodman arrived at this
point, he found that the water of the river was much
higher than usual. The stream had been swollen by the
JASPER. 109



Mr. Woodman's plans about crossing the river.

rains. Mr. Woodman had some doubt whether it was
safe to attempt to ford it. Jasper thought it was decidedly
unsafe to attempt it :—and he told Mr. Woodman so.”

“Why! could Jasper talk?” asked Malleville, aston-
ished.

“Oh no,” said Beechnut, “he could not speak words,
but he could communicate what he thought very well by
signs and barking. So when Mr. Woodman came down
to the bank of the river, and looked as if he were prepar-
ing to cross it, Jasper would run to and fro on the edge,
barking at the current, and then run back from the water
again,—endeavouring by this conduct to dissuade Mr.
Woodman from the attempt to go over. But Mr. Wood-
man thought that he must go, and so he drove his horse
into the stream. When Jasper found that his master
would go, he followed on.

“As I have already told you,” continued Beechnut,
“ there were two channels to cross, one on each side of the
island. The farthest one, that is, the one beyond the
island from where Mr. Woodman came to the river, was
the deepest. Mr. Woodman knew that it was so, and
this was one reason why he determined to make an at~-
tempt to cross the river. He thought he could certainly
get over the first channel, so as to reach the island, and
then he could better judge whether it would be prudent
to attempt the second. He concluded that if he found, on
going over to the island, that the water was very deep, he
could easily then come back again, and go home, without
going into the most dangerous part of the river at all.

“He found the water in the first channel very deep,—
deeper in fact than he had expected. Still he succeeded
in getting across and in reaching the island in safety.
110 CAROLINE.

He reaches the island. He attempts to go on.





The current was very rapid, and in one place it was so
deep that the horse was floated off from his feet, and
obliged toswim. Mr. Woodman thought that the horse
was going to be carried down the stream, and was on the
point of getting off from his back and swimming him-
self for the shore, but the horse, a moment afterward,
got over the deep place, and regained his footing, and so
waded on the rest of the way to the island.

“ Mr. Woodman stopped a little while on the island to
let the horse rest, and then was very much in doubt
whether he should undertake to cross the other channel
or not. All this time he sat on a rock, holding his horse
by the bridle, while Jasper sat before him, looking up into
his face, and wondering what he was going to do.

“Mr. Woodman finally concluded that he would try
the other channel. He thought it was somewhat uncer-
tain whether he could get across, but he concluded that if
he should find the water too deep and the current too
rapid, he would turn the horse round and swim back to
the island again. So he mounted his horse and rode
down to the brink of the water. Jasper looked, and ran
back and forth, more than he had done before.

“< You don’t like it, Jasper, I see,’ said Mr. Woodman,
‘but I believe I will try it, nevertheless.’

“So he rode into the water.”

‘What a foolish man!” said Robin.

“ Fis plan was,” said Beechnut, “ to ride upon the horse
until it became too deep to ride any longer, and then to
get off and swim by the side of the horse, until he should
get to where he could touch bottom again. And mas-
much as in swimming across the deep place, it would not
be possible for him to hold the horse’s bridle in his hand,
JASPER. 111

Plans. He enters the water. Jasper takes the bridle.

as he would need to use both of his hands in swimming,
he determined that when he dismounted he would give
Jasper the bridle, to carry in his mouth; ‘ for Jasper, he
said to himself, ‘does not need his mouth to help him in
his swimming.’

“ His plan being all thus arranged, Mr. Woodman drove
into the river. The horse walked along, the water
growing deeper and deeper all the time, until at length it
began to come over the saddle. Mr. Woodman then
threw the bridle off from the horse’s neck, and called Jas-
per to come and take it. Jasper came swimming up to Mr.
Woodman’s side, and took the bridle, and then struck off
toward the middle of the stream, while Mr. Woodman dis-
mounted on the other side, and attempted to swim behind.

“Mr. Woodman, however, found that he had not taken
into account how powerful the current of a river is,
when swollen by the rain. For as soon as he and his
horse lost their hold upon the bottom, they all began to
drift down the stream, horse, dog, and man, together.
They struggled against the current in vain. Finally they
gave up all hope of getting across the river, and thought
only of saving themselves from destruction. They strug-
gled on, but their struggles did but little good. They
were swept down the stream until they got entirely below
the island, and then were carried round in a grand
sweep, back toward the shore that they had originally
come from.

“ Now, it happened that, as is usual with islands upon
rivers, there was a long shoal extending below the island
in this river, which shoal was formed by the sand which
had been washed down the stream, and had lodged below
the island, where the water was comparatively still; and
112 CAROLINE.



Mr. Woodman escapes. The horse and dog escape.



the course which the current took in drifting Mr. Wood-
man and the horse and dog down the stream, carried
them over the point of this shoal, at a place where
Mr. Woedman himself could just touch bottom. The
horse himself could not touch bottom yet; for a man,
being taller than a horse, though in other respects not
so large, can stand in the deepest water. It happened
thus, that Mr. Woodman succeeded. in stopping, himself,
while Jasper and the horse were carried on.

Mr. Woodman, glad to escape with his life, waded up
along the shoal until he got back to the island. Here he
sat down upon a rock to let the water drain out of his
clothes, and to get breath. He looked down the stream,
and there, as far as he could see, he could just discern
the two heads-——the horse’s and the dog’s—like dark dots
upon the surface of the river. They seemed to be mak-
ing toward the shore on the side that Mr. Woodman had
come from. Mr. Woodman watched them, of course,
very intently. At length he had the satisfaction of per-
ceiving that they were drawing nigh to the shore. Soon
after this he could see the form of the horse gradually
rising into view, as the animal came up out of the water.
Jasper kept hold of the bridle, and when the horse got
to the land, Mr. Woodman could see Jasper leading him
along in the edge of the water to find a place where they
could get up the bank. At length, he seemed to find a
place ; and Jasper leading the way with the bridle in his
mouth, the horse scrambled up to a level spot, high and
dry among the trees.

“ Of course, the place where Jasper landed was on the
same side of the river that Mr. Woodman’s farm was
upon, but it was down at a considerable distance below
JASPER. it3

ee



Jasper manages well. He comes in sight of his master.



the place where the road from the farm came down to
the bank at the great white rock which I told you about.
Jasper waited on the bank a few minutes until the horse
had. had a little time to rest, and then he began to lead
him along through the woods by the bank of the river,
up toward the road. He kept the horse’s bridle in his
mouth all the time, and in leading him through the
bushes and thickets, he chose the way wherever he saw
the best openings and the firmest ground. At length he
brought the horse up to the road, and stopping there by
the great white rock, he began to look off toward the
island to see what had become of his master.

“To his great joy he saw Mr. Woodman sitting there
safely. Mr. Woodman began to call to Jasper, speaking
to him in a kind and encouraging tone, and praising him
for what he had done. Jasper was very much delighted
to hear his master’s voice. Mr. Woodman looked at the
water and began to consider whether it would be prudent
for him to attempt to swim over to where Jasper and the
horse were standing. He found, however, that it would
not be, for the river had been rising rapidly all the time,
and was now much higher than when he first came over.
He concluded, therefore, that he must remain on the
island until the water should subside.”

“What does subside mean ?”’ asked Phonny.

“Go down,” said Beechnut.

“Then why don’t you say go down ?” rejoined Phonny.

“ Because,” replied Beechnut, “go down has two mean-
ings. In one sense, the water was going down all the
time, that is, it was going down the river toward the sea.
So it is more precise to say subside. It was not subsiding
then at all.”

x
114 CAROLINE.



Jasper forms a plan. He attempts to induce the horse to swim.





«“ Never mind about that,” said Robin, “but tell on.”

“ When Jasper found,” continued Beechnut, “that Mr.
Weodman was not coming, he concluded. that it would
be best for him and the horse to go over to the island, so
he went on, with the bridle still in his mouth, to the
edge of the water, intending to lead the horse in. But
the horse had had enough of the river, and was afraid to
goin again. Jasper pulled with all his strength, but the
horse would not follow him.

“Then Jasper laid down the bridle and went round
behind the horse, and began to bark at his heels, to see
if he could not drive him in. But this did no good. The
horse knew very well that Jasper would not bite him,
and so went quietly to cropping the grass, leaving Jasper
to bark as much as he pleased.

“ Jasper, finding that he could not do anything with the
horse, finally concluded to leave him and to go himself
over to the island.

“Mr. Woodman was very glad to have his dog near
him again. He patted him on his head, praised him for
taking such good care of the horse, and then called him
round to a sunny corner among some rocks, where he
thought that they might both get dry.

“ But Jasper was not contented to remain there. He
very soon went away, and began to run about the woods
on the island, and along the shores, picking up sticks
and. pieces of wood and bringing them to Mr. Woodman.”

« What was that for? ” asked Phonny.

“For fuel, so that Mr. Woodman might make a fire,”
replied Beechnut. “ You see that Jasper had been in the
woods a great many times with his master, and had been
tramed to gather sticks to help build a fire; and thus
JASPER. 115
Phonny’s inquiries. Mr. Woodman waits patiently.

whenever his master was in any lonely situation where
Jasper thought that a fire would be advantageous, he
always immediately went to work to gather fuel for it.”

“But how did he suppose,” said Phonny, “that Mr.
Woodman could set the sticks on fire?”

“He did not know,” replied Beechnut, “but that he
had some matches in his pocket.”

“Well, if he had,” replied Phonny, “it would have
done no good, for they would have all got drenched
through, while Mr. Woodman was swimming in the
river.”

“ True,” said Beechnut, “ but Jasper, though he was a
very intelligent dog, did not know enough about matches
to understand that they would not burn when they were
wet. So he went on bringing the fuel until he had made
quite a pile, and he wondered why his master did not
build a fire with it.

“ At last he got tired of what seemed to be a useless
labour, and not knowing what else to do, came and lay
down by Mr. Woodman’s feet. Mr. Woodman himself
did not know what he could do, except to wait patiently
for the water to subside. Thus they remained for three
hours: The horse stayed all this time too, near the white
rock where Jasper had left him, eating the grass and
herbage which grew about there.

“ At length Jasper began to grow hungry. He thought
that his master must be hungry too, and so he concluded
to go and see if he could not get something to eat. He
accordingly left Mr. Woodman, who was at this time ex-
amining a mark that he had made on the shore, im order
to see whether the water was falling or not, and plunging
into the current he swam back to the great white rock.

1 2
116 CAROLINE.
Jasper concludes to go home. His adventures at the farm-house.

“ He concluded that since he was going home, it would
be best for the horse to go with him; so he took up the
bridle in his mouth, and pulling gently, led the horse to
the path. Mr. Woodman had taught him to lead the
horse about in this manner, and had taught the horse to
obey him. So the horse went along where Jasper led the
way, and thus in about three quarters of an hour, the
horse and the dog arrived safely together at the farm.

“Jasper knew very well, that the place for the horse
was in a stall, in one corner of the barn. So he led him
to the barn door. The door was shut. Jasper went
around and clambered in through a small square hole
which there was in the side of the barn, and then being
on the inside, he pushed the door open. ‘The horse went
in, and walked directly into his stall.

“ Jasper knew very well that the saddle and bridle ought
to be taken off, and he looked up at the horse a moment,
as he stood in the stall, to see if- he could contrive any
way of doing it. But he could not, and so he left the
horse in the stall with the saddle and bridle on and went
to the house.

“'The door of the house was shut, but the window was
open, and: Jasper jumped in.

“‘ He first looked about the room to see whether all was
safe. ‘There was but one room in the house you must
know, with a sort of step ladder m the back part of it,
leading to a little garret above. Jasper found that every
thing was as they had left it in the morning. He then
went under the table and brought out a basket which was
kept there, one in which he was accustomed to convey
Mr. Woodman’s luncheon to him, when he was at work
in the field. This basket he carried out into the middle of
JASPER. 117



Jasper contrives to put some bread in a basket. He is in difficulty.



the floor. ‘Then he went to a corner of the room where
there was a sort of open cupboard, called a dresser. He
jumped up upon a chair which stood near the dresser, and
from the chair he climbed up to the lower shelf of the
dresser, which was much wider than the shelves above,
being intended to serve the purpose of a table. On one of
the upper shelves there were two or three loaves of bread.
Jasper contrived to push one of them down from its place
to the shelf where he was standing, and from this shelf to
the floor.

“Then he jamped down himself, and worked the loaf
of bread along on the floor to the place where he had left
the basket. He turned the basket over upon its side, and.
then pushed the loaf into it. He then took up the basket,
by the handle, in his mouth, and went to the window.

“ Here, however, he encountered an unexpected diffi-
culty, for he found that he could not jump up to the
window-sill, while holding the loaded. basket in his mouth.
Whenever he attempted to do so, the bottom of the basket
would strike upon the sill, and throw him back to the
floor. So he put the basket down, and jumped up to the
window without it, and then turning round, looked down
to the basket still remaining on the floor, and whined.
But this did no good. There was nobody to lift the
basket up to him, and so he soon saw clearly it was not
possible to pet it out at the window, and that he must
therefore contrive some other plan.”

Here Beechnut set all the children to conjecturing,
what the plan was which Jasper finally hit upon, to get
the bread out of the house. One guessed that he went
and opened the door; but Beechnut said, No, the latch
118 CAROLINE.

His contrivances. He drops the basket out the window.

was so high that Jasper could not reach it. Another
guessed that he gave up the basket and took the bread
alone. But Beechnut said that the loaf of bread was so
big, that he could not carry it in his mouth alone. At
last they all gave up guessing, and said that they did not
believe there was any possible way.

“ He recollected,” said Beechnut, “that there was a
small window in the garret, which opened with a shutter.
So he took the basket with the bread in it, and went up
the ladder. He found the window, pushed the shutter
open, and then dropped the basket out. He looked out after-
ward himself, to see if it went really down to the ground,
and finding that it did so, and not daring to jJamp down
from such a high place himself, he descended by the
ladder, and then had no difficulty in getting out at the
window in the room below.

“ As soon as he had got out, he lifted the basket, by
taking the handle in his mouth, and trotted along the
road which led to the river. When he reached the great
white stone, he stopped a moment to look across to the
island, to see if Mr. Woodman was still there. Mr.
Woodman was there, and as soon as he saw Jasper, he
began to call him. Jasper plunged into the water, and
swam across, carrying the basket as before. A good deal
of water got into it, as he swam with it across the stream,
and the bread was considerably wet on the outside, but
Mr. Woodman soon dried it in the sun, and then he and
Jasper made an excellent dinner from it.”

When Beechnut had got as far in his story as this, he
found that he had finished his cow, so he concluded to
end the story. He paused a moment, and then said,
JASPER. 119



Beechnut finishes the story of Jasper.



“ And that is all.”

“ But, Beechnut,” said the boys, “how did Mr. Wood-
man get off of the island P”

“‘Oh, the water subsided so much that afternoon,” re-
plied Beechnut, very coolly, and rising from his seat at the
same time, “ that Mr. Woodman found that he could go
on to the settlement. So he gave Jasper the basket to
carry home, directing him when he went away, to bring
the horse down again. So Jasper carried the basket
home, and then went into the barn and brought out the
horse, and led him down to the river, and then Mr.
Woodman went on his journey. He did not come home
until the next day, and then he found everything just as
he left it, except that the basket was upon the step of the
door. Jasper had put it down there, because he could

not drop it wp into the garret window, as he had dropped
it down.”
120 CAROLINE.



Livingston and Wallace take a walk. An intended expedition.





CHAPTER IX.
PLANS FORMED.

At the time that Livingston made his visit to Fran-
conia, Caroline had a beautiful black horse, which she
used for a saddle-horse, and on which she often took
rides alone, on the various roads which led out of the
village of Franconia.

One morning, about nine o’clock, as Livingston and
Wallace, accompanied by Malleville and Phonny, were
coming out through the great gate in front of Mrs.
Henry’s house, to go down to the river for the purpose of
taking a sail, they saw Caroline coming, cantering along
the road upon this horse.

“ Here comes Caroline,’ said Malleville,—‘on Pony
Black. Let us stop and see her.”

“ Yes,” said Phonny, “she is beckoning to us.”

Wallace and Livingston, on looking down the road,
saw that Caroline was really beckoning to them, and that
she seemed to be hastening on, as if she wished to speak
with them. So they stopped where they were to wait
for her.

When she came up, she told them that there was a
gentleman at their house from out of town, who had a
plan of going up on a certain mountain, about five miles
from Franconia, upon a blucberry excursion on the follow-
ing day, and that he wished to have some of the boys and
PLANS FORMED. 121





The plan explained in full.





A
i ee
eg

CAROLINE AND THE BOYS

girls of the village go too,so as to make up a party. The
gentleman himself was going to take a young lady of the
village, whom Caroline called Miss Rose, and he would
like to have half a dozen others join the party, so as to
have a good merry time going up the mountain.

“You see,” said Caroline, “we shall ride about five
miles, and then leave our horses and carriages in the
woods and walk up the mountain. The blueberries grow
on the top, and it is too steep to ride up.

“ Mr. Clarendon,”-——continued Caroline—

“Ts his name Mr. Clarendon?” said Malleville.

“Yes,” said Caroline, “and a very elegant gentleman
122 CAROLINE.
Invitations. Caroline arranges all the details.

he is. He lives in Boston. He is going in a carriage
with Miss Rose. JI thought that Phonny and Malleville
might go in one wagon, and you, Wallace, and Mary Bell
might go in another.”

“Well,” said Wallace, “I should like to go very
much.”

«And you will go too, won’t you, Livingston,” con-
tinued Caroline.

“ Why, yes,” said Livingston, “T should like to go very
much.”

“ Rodolphus Linn is going with Ellen and Annie in an-
other wagon,” said Caroline.

« And how are you going,” asked Livingston.

“Why, I have not any particular plan,” said Caroline.
“Perhaps I shall go in the carriage with Mr. Clarendon
and Miss Rose.”

“No,” said Livingston, “ you will have to go with me.”

“ Well,” said Caroline, “just as you please. That will
make four wagons or chaises, besides the carriage,—
Wallace and Mary Bell in one, Rodolphus and Annie in
another, Livingston and I in another, Phonny and Malle-
ville in another.”

“But I would rather go with Mary Bell,” said Malle-
ville, speaking in a complaining tone.

“Yes, but then there would be nobody to go with
Phonny,” replied Caroline. “You will have to go with
Phonny to keep him company.”

“But Phonny might go on a horseback,” said Malle-
ville. “ He likes to ride on a horseback.”

“¢ Yes,” said Phonny.

“Well!” said Caroline, “and I will lend you my Pony
Black for your horse.”
PLANS FORMED. 123



She proposes to invite Beechnut. This plan approved.

Phonny seemed very much delighted with this arrange-
ment, and thus all things were settled.

Caroline said that the party was to set out from her
father’s house at eight o’clock in the morning, and that
they must all be particular to be there in time. So saying,
she bade the boys good morning and rode away.

Before she had gone many steps, however, she stopped
her horse, and turned round agam.

“Don’t you think,” said she, “that it would be a good
plan to have Beechnut go with us? He is such a help.”

Livingston and Wallace both thought very favourably
of having Beechnut invited.

“Then I will go and invite him,” said Caroline. “ First
1 will go and ask Mrs. Henry if she can spare him to go.”

So Caroline turned the horse up through the gate and
cantered into Mrs. Henry’s yard.

She dismounted at a horse-block which stood in the
yard, fastened her horse to a post, and then went into the
house to find Mrs. Henry.

Caroline found Mrs. Henry seated in the back parlour.
She explained the plan of the blueberry party to her,
and Mrs. Henry readily consented that Phonny and
Malleville should go, according to the arrangement which
had just been made at the consultation in the road.
Caroline then asked Mrs. Henry whether she could spare
Beechnut to go too. Mrs. Henry replied that Beechnut
Was just then very busy in helping build a bridge up
in the pasture, but said that Caroline might ride up if
she chose, and see him, and that if he thought that he
could be spared easily from the work for a day, he might
go.

“Tn fact,’ said Mrs. Henry, in conclusion, “I should
124 CAROLINE.
Caroline goes to find Beechnut in the woods.

like to have him go very much, to look after Phonny
and Malleville; only I suppose that as Livingston and
Wallace are going, it is not really necessary.”

“ No,” said Caroline, “but at any rate I will go and
see him.”

So Caroline went out into the yard again, and taking
her horse by the bridle, she led him through various
gates and yards; until at length she came to the pasture
bars. She took these bars down, led the horse through,
and then mounting the horse, she went on up the road.
The road was very wild and romantic, affording splendid
prospects of the surrounding country all the way. At
length, after ascending for some time, Caroline began to
descend. The road soon entered a wood, and after wind-
ing about among thickets for some time, it led Caroline
at last to a brook. Here Caroline found two men and
Beechnut, at work with a yoke of oxen, hauling logs and
building a bridge. Beechnut was driving the oxen.

As soon as Caroline came near, Beechnut, who was
then on the other side of the brook, called upon her to
remain where she was a moment, and said that he would
come over to her. So Caroline stopped her horse. The
pony began immediately eating the grass by the road-
side, while Caroline watched the proceedings of Beechnut
and the men.

Presently Beechnut left his team, and crossing the
brook on stepping stones, advanced to where Caroline’s
horse was standing, and then patting the horse upon his
shoulder with one hand, while he held his goadstick in
the other, he said,

“ Good morning, Caroline. How did you find out that
I was here?”
PLANS FORMED. 125



Conversation between Caroline and Beechnut.

ee ccrmnitie

“Mrs. Henry told me,” said Caroline. “I came to see
you about a blueberry party to-morrow. We are going
up the mountain, and ..we want you to go too. Mrs,
Henry said that you might go, if you could be spared
from this work,—and you can, for you have got the bridge
almost done.”

“ Let me see,” said Beechnut, talking to himself ap-
parently, “can I go or not?” Then turning to Caroline,
he asked, “ Who is going ? ”

So Caroline described the plan in detail. She told
him about Mr. Clarendon and Miss Rose who were going
in a carriage. Then Wallace was going with Mary
Bell and Malleville, and Phonny was going on horseback.
Rodolphus Linn was going to take Eien and Annie, and
she was going with Livingston.

“Well,” said Beechnut, “that’s a very good arrange-
ment. I think it will be a very pleasant party. But
who is there to go with me?”

“Oh, you can find somebody,” said Caroline, “or you
might go on horseback with Phonny, if you choase.”

“ Besides,” she added, after a moment’s hesitation, “ it
is not quite certain that Rodolphus can go. He don’t
know that they can spare him from the mill. If they
cannot spare him, you might go in his place, and take
Elen and Annie.”

Beechnut was silent a moment, and seemed to be
thinking of Caroline’s proposal.

“ Well,” said he at length, “I will think of it and send
you word to-night. Tam not certain whether I can go
or not. Til see.”

“ And Caroline,” continued Beechnut, “JT saw a name-
sake of yours in Boston when I was there.”
126 CAROLINE.



Beechnut makes a proposal to Mrs. Henry.



«“ A namesake of mine!” exclaimed Caroline.

“Yes,” said Beechnut ; and he then proceeded to relate
to Caroline the adventure which he had met with at the
post-office, when he inquired for a letter for a lady who
said that her name was Mrs. Caroline Keep.

“It must be my cousin William’s wife,” said Caroline.
“She was a Caroline something I recollect, and he has
gone to California. He used to be a wild young man.”

“T thought,” rejoined Beechnut, “that his wife seemed
to be left in rather destitute circumstances.”

“JT will tell my mother about it,” said Caroline, “ and,
perhaps, she will write her a letter and inquire. Or I
will write her a letter myself, and then if she needs it,
we will send her some money.”

“TI would do that,” said Beechnut.

So saying, Beechnut returned to his work and Caroline
rode away.

That evening, after tea, Beechnut went into the house
to see Mrs. Henry. He told her that he came to speak
to her about the blueberry excursion that was to take
place on the following day.

“ Well,” said Mrs. Henry. “Can you leave your work
so as to go with the party P”

“Yes, Mrs. Henry,” said Beechnut, “I find I can.
The men say that they can finish the bridge now very
well without me. Still, unless you prefer to have me go
on account of Malleville and Phonny, I would rather
spend the day in another manner.”

“In what manner?” said Mrs. Henry.

Beechnut looked a little embarrassed, and seemed
hesitating about his reply.

«“ Ah, it is some secret, I see,” said Mrs. Henry, smil-
PLANS FORMED. 127



~~ st

He goes to the barn. Phonny and the windmill.


ing. “ Well, spend it as you please; I give you the day.
It is not necessary for you to go up the mouutain, for
Wallace will take care of Malleville, and as for Phonny,
he is getting to be big enough to take care of himself.”

Beechnut thanked Mrs. Henry, and went away.

The result was always like this in every proposal or
request that Beechnut ever made to Mrs. Henry. He
was so faithful in the discharge of all his duties, and so
patient and persevering, and he so seldom made any
request to be allowed to go away, that Mrs. Henry placed
the most implicit confidence in him in all respects, and
always complied with whatever he proposed.

Beechnut from the house went out into the barn.
Phonny was sitting on the steps of the shop near the
barn, making a windmill. Beechnut went into the stable,
which was at one end of the barn, and began to lead out
2 horse. Phonny laid down his windmill and ran out
into the stable to see what Beechnut was going to do.

“ Beechnut,” said Phonny, “ are you going away ?”

“ Yes,” said Beechnut.

“Where are you going ?” said Phonny.

“To the post-office,” said Beechnut.

“ May I go with you?” said Phonny.

“ Why—yes—” said Beechnut, after some hesitation.
“T was going on horseback, but if you wish to go too,
we will put the horse into the wagon and ride together.”

Phonny was much pleased with the prospect of a ride
to the village. So he went and put his work away care-
fully in the shop, and then came back and helped Beech-
nut harness the horse and wagon.

As soon as Beechnut had driven out of the great gate
into the road, Phonny asked if ke might drive.
128 CAROLINE.

— a abnnneo

Another wagon coming A Narrow escape.



“ Yes,” said Beechnut.

“ And will you change seats with me?” said Phonny.

< Yes,”’ said Beechnut.

So Phonny took Beechnut’s seat, which was the one
on the right side, and then taking the reins and the whip,
he drove along the road, very much pleased.

Presently there appeared another wagon coming at a
distance. Phonny felt ambitious to go by this wagon
without turning out of the road a great deal himself. He
was influenced in this by two different feelings. In the
first place he considered it a mark of good driving to be
able to go by another carriage by passing very near to it.
Then besides, the other wagon was driven by a boy whom
he knew, and who was a little younger than himself, and
he felt a sort of foolish pride in making this boy turn out
as mueh as possible for him. The other boy did not turn
out much, and so the hubs of the wheels came very near
striking each other as they passed.

In fact Phonny thought at the instant that the wheels
passed each other that they were going to strike, and he
looked over the side of the wagon at the moment, utter-
ing a slight exclamation of fear,

“ Wi—yi!” said he.

The wheels passed by each other without striking, and
then Phonny looked up to Beechnut with a smile upon
his face, saying,

“ No harm done.”

“Yes,” said Beechnut, “there is considerable harm
done.”

“ What harm ? ” asked Phonny.

“ You disturbed my quiet of mind,” replied Beechnut,
“and you have spoiled the comfort of my ride for ten
PLANS FORMED. 129
Beechnut’s opinion. Phonny gets new ideas. Going to the mill.

rods. If you had had a lady here in my place, you
would have spoiled all the pleasure of her ride from the
beginning to the end of it.”

“Oh, Beechnut!” said Phonny.

“ Yes,” said Beechnut, “that is so,—for after such a
narrow escape as that, she would have been anxious and
uneasy every time you should meet anything on the road.
You ought to drive m such a way that you shall not only
not Azé anything, but so that those who are riding with
you shall see that there is not the least danger of your
hitting anything.”

“T never thought of that,” said Phonny.

Phonny was more careful after this to keep at a good
distance from danger in his driving, and in a short time
he reached the village. He stopped at the post-office,
and Beechnut went in and obtained the letters. When
Beechnut had got into the wagon again, Phonny was
about turning around to go home, but Beechnut directed
him to drive on.

“T am going to the mill,” said he.

Phonny was always very glad of an errand at the mill,
as he liked to see the waterfall made by the dam, and
the torrents and whirling eddies which were formed in
the channel below. Besides, he always liked to have his
ride prolonged, especially when he was driving. ‘So the
boys rode on to the mill.

Phonny fastened his horse to a post at the door of the
mill, and then asked if he might go down to the water
while Beechnut was engaged in doing ‘his business in
the mill. Beechnut gave him permission to do this, so
Phonny ran down the path, and Beechnut went into the
mill.

K.
1s0 CAROLINE.

Beechnut finds Rodolpkus in the mill. A conference





When he had entered, Beechnut looked around the
room, to find Rodolphus. Presently he saw him in a
corner, engaged in tying up some bags. Beechnut went
to the place.

“ Ah! Beechnut,” said Rodolphus, “have you got a
grist to grind this time of the day?”

“No,” said Beechnut, “I came to see if you were going
on the blueberry expedition to-morrow ? ”

“ No,” said Rodolphus, in a mournful sort of tone. “I
cannot go. They can’t spare me from the mill. There
is a great deal to do to-morrow.”

“ Would you have liked to go?” asked Beechnut.

“ Yes,” said Rodolphus, “I should have liked to go very
much, but I can’t.”

“Could Ellen and Annie go?” said Beechnut.

“Yes,” said Rodolphus. And then looking up joyfully;
as if a sudden thought had occurred to him, he added,
“« And as I can’t go, I wish you would go and take them
with you.”

“No,” said Beechnut, “I cannot go to-morrow very
well, but I will go and see your uncle, and perhaps if I
speak to him, he will let you go.”

“« Well,” said Rodolphus, “ you can try; but it won’t do
any good I know, for the water is high, and there is a great
deal to do to-morrow.”

It was Rodolphus’s uncle that had charge of this mill.
He owned one half of it, and Mrs. Linn, Rodolphus’s
mother, owned the other half. It had originally belonged.
to Rodolphus’s father and uncle in partnership. They
were brothers. When Rodolphus’s father had died, his
share of the profits went to Mrs. Linn, while the sole
PLANS FORMED, 131

Beechnut goes to see Mr. Linn. Benny.



management of the business, thenceforth, devolved on
the surviving partner.

While the boys were holding the conversation above
described, Rodolphus finished tying up the bags, and then
as that was all that he had to do that night, he went
around with Beechnut to see that the gates were all shut
securely. When this was done, he was ready to leave the
mill. The two boys had got to the door just at the time
when Beechnut made his proposal to go and speak to Ro-
dolphus’s uncle.

«Where is your uncle ?” said Beechnut.

“He has gone home,” said Rodolphus.

Mr. Linn, Rodolphus’s uncle, lived in a small white
house at a short distance,—only a few steps, in fact, from
the mill. So Beechnut requested Rodolphus to remain
where he was a moment, while he went to the door of the
house to see Mr. Linn.

Rodolphus accordingly remained where he was, while
Beechnut went to the door of the house. He knocked at
the door, and then turning round, looked back at Rodol-
phus and smiled. In a moment, a little child came to the
door.

“There comes Benny,” said Rodolphus, to himself.

Rodolphus could see that Beechnut held a brief con-
versation with Benny, and that then Benny went back
into the house again. A moment afterward, Mr. Linn
himself came to the door.

Becchnut and Mr. Linn seemed to be talking a few
minutes together at the door, and then, suddenly, Mr.
Linn called out,

“ Rodolphus! ”
132 CAROLINE.



Mr. Binn’s consent. Plans for the next merning.

“What, sir,” said Rodolphus.

“It’s all right; you can go to-morrow,” said Mr. Linn.

Rodolphus was not only much pleased, but he was
also very much surprised, at hearing this. He wondered
what it was that Beechnut could have said to his uncle, to
produce so sudden a change in his determination.

“What did you tell him?” said Rodolphus, when
Beechnut came back.

“ Oh, I only told him,” said Beechnut, “of a way by
which he could get along without you for one day. I will
explain it all to you some other time. Go home now,
and tell Ellen and Annie to get ready. And [ will bring
over one of our wagons for you, to-morrow morning, at
half-past seven o’clock.”

**¥ can come and get it myself,” said Rodolphus.

« No,” replied Beechnut, “ I would rather bring it to
your house.”

On the way home, Beechnut directed Phonny to stop a
moment before Mr. Keep’s yard. Phonny accordingly
drew up at the great gate. Beechnut then took the reins
from Phonny’s hands, and said to him,

“Go in and see if you can find Caroline. Tell her that
Â¥ have concluded that I cannot go to-morrow, but that
Rodolphus is going with Ellen and Annie.”

So Phonny descended from the wagon and ran into
the house. In a few minutes he returned, and began to
climb up into the wagon again.

«« Did you find her ? ” said Beechnut.

“Yes,” replied Phonny.

«“ And did you tell her?” said Beechnut.

“Yes,” replied Phonny.
PLANS FORMED. 133



Phonny calls to tell Caroline of the result.



« And what did she say ? ” said Beechnut.

“She said ‘ Well, ” replied Phonny.

The tone of voice in which Phonny pronounced the
word “ Well,” in imitation of Caroline, seemed to express
indifference and unconcern.
134 CAROLINE.

— —

Beechnut gets his breakfast at an early hour. Rodolphus and Ellen set out.

CHAPTER X.

THE BLUEBERRY PARTY.

On the following morning after the events described in
the last chapter, that is, on the morning of the day ap-
pointed for the ride, Hepzibah gave Beechnut his break-
fast somewhat earlier than usual, in order that he might
be in season m taking the wagon down to Mrs. Linn’s.
After putting everything into the wagon which he thought
would be necessary for the expedition, he mounted into
it himself and proceeded toward the village. It was a
bright and. beautiful morning.

Beechnut drove directly over the bridge and down to
Mrs. Linn’s. Annie was watching for him at the door.
As soon as she saw the wagon, she ran into the house
clapping her hands and calling out,

“ He is coming! He is coming!”

Ellen Linn came to the door and welcomed Beechnut
with a smile. She and Rodolphus were both ready, and
they immediately got into the wagon, first putting in
some tin pails and tin dippers for the blueberries. One
of the tin pails contamed provision for a luncheon ; for
the party expected to remain on the mountain all day.

Beechnut assisted EKllen to mount mto the wagon, and
then when all were ready, Rodolphus drove from the
door. Beechnut walked by the side of the wagon until
they came to the preat gate, and then remained to.shut
THE BLUEBERRY PARTY. 135



Ellen’s good-bye to Beechnut. General arrangements made by the party.

the gate, while Rodolphus drove on. Ellen turned round
twice to nod a good-bye to Beechnut as the wagon went
on its way. Beecnhnut watched the wagon as it receded,
until at last it came to a turn of the road and disappeared.

Beechnut then went to the mill. He spent the day
working there in Rodolphus’s place. This was what he
had proposed to Rodolphus’s uncle, as an inducement for
him to allow Rodolphus to go on the excursion.

It was full three quarters of an hour from this time
before the party were prepared to set out from Mr.
Keep’s,—there were so many preparations and arrange-
ments to be made,—-so many directions to be given and re-
ceived,—so many things to be put into the vehicles, and
50 many things to be taken out after they were in, in order
to be put in some other wagon where they would ride bet-
ter. At length, however, all was ready, and Uncle Ben
held open the great gate while the procession moved
through.

First came Mr. Clarendon and Miss Rose, in a very
pretty four-wheeled, covered carriage. Though it was
covered, however, there was nothing to prevent those
riding in it from seeing the prospect, for the curtains were
up all around. The seats in this carriage were very soft.
Mr. Clarendon and Miss Rose occupied the back seat,
and there was a little child, a sister of Miss Rose, upon
the front seat. Her name was Emma. Emma did not
sit upon the seat, but kneeled upon it, with her face
toward the window, so that she could look out. There
were two horses to this carriage, and a driver outside.

Next to this carriage came a chaise drawn by a hand-
some chestnut horse. This chaise belonged to Mrs.
Henry. Livingston and Caroline rode in it. Next
136 CAROLINE.
Phonny mounts the horse. Livingston’s conversation with Caroline.

came a wagon with Wallace, Mary Bell, and Malleville.
Malleville sat upon a little stool between Wallace and
Mary Bell. ‘The space in the back of this wagon, be~
hind the seat, was filled with pails, baskets, dippers,
luncheons, and other such things. Next came Rodol-
phus’s wagon. In the back part of this wagon, Uncle
Ben had put in a bag of grain for the use of the horses.
Phonny was mounted on Caroline’s Pony Black. He
waited at the door until the train of vehicles had passed
out, and then putting his horse to the canter, he passed
by one after another of the vehicles, until he reached the
head of the column, and then rode on rapidly along the
road leading to the mountain, until he was far in advance
of them all. Then he turned round and rode back to
meet them.

It had been agreed. before setting out, that in order to
avoid. any inconvenience which might otherwise be occa-
sioned. by the dust, the carriages should keep at some dis-
tance from each other, with the understanding that those
who should first reach the mountain, should remain at
the place where the horses were to be fastened, until the
rest of the party should arrive. Livingston accordingly
drove very slowly, until the carriage which conveyed
Mr. Clarendon and his party was almost out of sight.

Livingston liked Cuaroline’s company very much, she
was so lively and entertaining in her conversation. She
told him who lived in the several houses that they
passed, and described the characters of the people in a
very sprightly, and at the same time in a very good-
natured manner. She also asked Livingston a great
many questions about New York, where Livingston lived,
and about the college where he was receiving his educa-
THE BLUEBERRY PARTY. 137
Livingston puts the chaise-top down. He puts it up again.

tion, and. she listened with a great deal of interest to the
information which he gave her on. these subjects.

At length, after they had gone about a quarter of a mile,
and were ascending a hill from which there seemed to be
a pleasant prospect, Caroline asked Livingston if he did
not think it would be pleasant to have the chaise-top down.

“T think it will,” said Livingston; and he immediately
stopped the horse and got out, and put the chaise-top
down. The action of this top was regulated by springs,
one on each side of the chaise. Livingston loosened one
of these springs, and then went round to the other side
of the chaise to loosen the other. While he was doing
this, however, the first became tightened again, so that
the top would not go down. After going back and forth
in this manner, two or three times, he at length suc-
ceeded in accomplishing his object. He put the top
down, and then got into the chaise again.

“T am sorry to make you so much trouble,” said
Caroline.

“ Oh, that is of no consequence,” said Livingston. “It
it is much pleasanter to have the top down.”

So they rode on. Very soon, however, they passed over
the summit of the hill, and here the road turned toward
the eastward, which brought the sun a little upon Caro-
line’s face. After riding so for a short time, she began
to find the sun somewhat uncomfortable, so she told
Livingston that she believed it would be better to have
the chaise-top put up again. Livingston accordingly
stopped the horse, got out of the chaise, pushed up the
top, fastened the springs, first on one side and then on
the other, and finally got into the chaise again, and
drove on.
138 CAROLINE.
Talk in the chaise. The top to be put down again.

The road, presently, in one of its windings, came in
sight of a beautiful sheet of water. Caroline told Living-
ston that this was what they called the mill-pond. The
road descended in a winding manner, until it came very
near the shore of this pond. This was the same road, in
fact, that Caroline had come out into with Phonny and
Malleville, on the evening of their walk, at the place
where they saw the dog that Phonny thought was a fox.
As they rode along by this place, Caroline gave Living-
ston a long and very entertaining account of the excursion
she had made there, and of their getting caught in the
shower, and finally of their going home in the boat by
the way of the mill. She showed Livingston also the
gap in the stone-wall, where the romantic pathway com-
menced, and said, that if he and Wallace would form a
little party some day, to go and walk there, she would go
with them and show them the way.

Livingston said that he should like the plan very much
indeed.

“J am sorry now,” said Caroline, “that we put up the
chaise-top, for we have beautiful views of the pond along
here, and I don’t think that the sun would trouble us
much now.”

* Well,” said Livingston, “I can put it down again.”

“[ am sorry to trouble you so much,” said Caroline.

“Tt will be no trouble at all,” said Livingston. So he
stopped the horse and got out of the chaise and put the
top down again. As soon as he had got it down, Caroline
said after all she believed that it would be better not to
put the top down, but to roll up the curtain of the chaise
behind.

“ Then,” said she, “ we can look out behind and sce the
THE BLUEBERRY PARTY. 139



Ancther change still. Wallace and Mary Rell. Caroline is thirsty.



prospect, and yet the top will be up to screen us from the
sun.”

Livingston began to be tired of making so many
changes, but still he readily acquiesced in Caroline’s wishes,
so he put the top up again, and then climbing up behind
the chaise, he rolled the curtain up, and secured it by its
straps, where it could be out of the way. He then got
into the chaise, and Caroline seemed satisfied.

At this mstant they heard the sound of wheels behind
them, and looking round they saw Wallace and Mary Bell
coming up in their wagon.

“ What is the matter?” cried out Malleville, who was
sitting on her stool in front.

“ Nothing,” said Livingston.

“ Where is Phonny?” said Malleville.

“J don’t know,” said Livingston. “He is somewhere
before.” So Livingston drove on.

Caroline looked out behind at Wallace’s wagon for a
little while, exchanging various signals with Mary Bell.
At length she lost sight of the wagon at a turn of the
road, and did not see it again for many miles.

After riding about three quarters of an hour, Caroline
began to complain of being thirsty.

“JT will stop at the first farm-house,” said Livingston,
“and see if I can get some water.”

“1 am sorry to trouble you so much,” said Caroline.

“It will be no trouble at all,” said Livingston.

Just at this moment Phonny was seen on his horse at
some distance in advance, and Caroline proposed that
Livingston should drive fast and overtake Phonny, and so
get him to go after the water. “That will save you the
trouble,” said she.
140 CAROLINE,





~-

Attempts to overtake Phonny- A race,

But Livingston thought that it would be more trouble
to drive forward and overtake Phonny, than to go and
get the water himself, so he said he thought they had
better let Phonny go on. “It is very doubtful,” said he,
“ whether we can catch him.”

“Oh yes, we can catch him easily enough,” said Caro-
line. “ Give me the whip.”

So she took the whip and began whipping the horse to
make him go faster. Livingston did not like this very
well, but he did not think that it would be polite for him
to make any objection, so they rode on faster and faster.
Phonny heard them coming, and looked round, and when
he saw Caroline whipping the horse and making him go
as fast as possible, he drove on rapidly himself, consider-
ing it a sort of race. Caroline began to call out aloud for
him to stop, and as she could not make him hear, she
wished Livingston to call to him. Livingston did so;
while Caroline putting down the whip took her handker-
chief, and waved it in the air as a signal. At length
Phonny began to understand that they wished him to
stop ; and so reined up his horse by the road-side, just op-
posite, as it happened, to a farm-house.

“ Phonny,” said Caroline, “I am thirsty, and we want
you to get off your horse and go to this farm-house and
see if you can’t get me a drink of water.”

“ No,” said Phonny, “ for if I get off my horse, I can't
get on again.”

Caroline looked quite blank at this unexpected diffi-
eulty. Phonny, without waiting to hear what plan she
might devise for obviating it, whipped up his horse and
eantered back along the road, to see what had beeome of
Rodolphus.
THE BLUEBERRY PARTY. 141



Phonny does not dare to get off his horse. Adventure at the farm-house.

Caroline turned round and called out loudly for Phonny
to stop; but Phonny pretended not to hear her, and the
louder she called the faster he galloped away. He was
afraid that she would urge him strenuously to dismount
and get some water, and he knew that if he were to do so
it would be very difficult for him to get on again. He
could not mcunt a horse without a horse-block.

“T can get the water just as well myself,” said Living-
ston. “There is a pump,” he added, pointing,—“ with a
dipper on the top of it, all ready.” So saying he de-
scended from the chaise.

“Oh, I cannot drink out of a tin dipper,” said Caroline.
“TI never can bear the taste of anything in tin.”

So saying Caroline made a face so expressive of dis-
gust, that Livingston perceived at once, that the idea of
her drinking from the dipper was wholly out of the
question.

“Tf you would just go to the door,” said Caroline, “and
ask them, they will lend you a tumbler, I have no
doubt.”

Livingston was very unwilling to do this, for he in-
ferred very justly, that the people of the farm-house, by
putting the dipper upon the pump, had shown that they
considered such a vessel a suitable one for passing
travellers to drink from. He thought that perhaps they
had put it there expressly for the purpose of saving them-
selves from being troubled with applications at the door
for something to drink from. However, he could not
well refuse to comply with Caroline’s request, and so he
went up to the door of the farm-house and knocked. A
woman came to the door.

“Will you be kind enough,” said Livingston, in a very
142 CAROLINE.

The tin dipper. Livingston does not succeed. His chagrin.



polite and gentlemanly manner, “to lend me a tumbler to
get some water for the young lady with me?”

“There is a dipper,on the pump,” said the woman,
pointing to it.

“ Yes,” said Livingston, “ but if you had a tumbler ora
mug that you would lend me a moment ;—”

The woman looked first at Livingston and then out at
Caroline, who was in the chaise—and then, after a mo-
ment’s pause, she said,

“ No,—tell her I have not got any tumbler or mug to
spare.”

Livingston turned and went away, feeling extremely
chagrined. He thought that the woman did perfectly



TUE REPOUSAL
THE BLUEBERRY PARTY. 143





He reports to Caroline. They drive on. A new proposal.

right, and that he ought not to have made such a request of
her. He began to think too, that Caroline, with all her
beauty and accomplishments, was still a very troublesome
companion. In fact, for a lady to place a gentleman thus
in a false or ridiculous position, by her whims or caprice,
is to put his interest in her to the severest possible trial.

Livingston came back and reported to Caroline that
he could not obtain any tumbler or mug, and asked her
whether he should bring her some water in the tin dip-
per. But she said, No, she could not drink out of it.

« And besides,” she added, “I am not very thirsty. I
can get along very well until we get to the stopping-place.”

Livingston secretly wished that she had thought of this
before.

He said nothing, however, but got mto the chaise and
drove on. After going about halfa mile, he came in sight
of the carriage. He and Caroline saw the carriage slowly
ascending a hill.

“ There they are,” said Caroline, “let us drive on, and
overtake them.”

So Livingston drove on. They gained rapidly upon
the carriage, and overtook it just before it reached the top
of the hill.

“Let us drive by them,” said Caroline, “and so get first
to the stopping-place.”

“ Oh no,” said Livingston, “that will not do.”

“ Ah yes!” said Caroline. “ It will do perfectly well.”

“Mr. Clarendon would not like it,” said Livingston.
“He arranged the order of the riding, and it would not
be proper for me to go before him.”

“ Oh, nonsense!” said Caroline. “Give me the rems
then, and I will drive by him.”
144 CAROLINE.



Arrangements for going up the mountain.

But Livingston would not consent. He would neither
drive by Mr. Clarendon’s carriage himself, nor give
Caroline the reins, in order that she might do it. Caro-
line was a little piqued at this, but she submitted, and so
they rode on in the proper order, until they arrived at the
foot of the mountain,

Here the party all assembled, and driving their vehicles
into the woods, they came at length to a level and some-
what open place, on the margin of a stream, where there
was convenient standing ground for the horses. They
partly unharnessed the horses, so as to separate them
from the vehicles, and then fastened them to trees, at
safe distances from each other. They next divided the
grain which they had brought among the several horses,
pouring down each one’s portion on the grass before him.
Then they took their pails and baskets out of the wagons,
and forming a long procession, they entered upon the
steep and winding path which conducted up the moun-
tain-side. The driver of Mr. Clarendon’s carriage went
with them, and took the largest part of the load.

In due time, the party reached the blueberry ground,
and there, having established a depot for their baskets
and pails under some rocks, they rambled about the
ground, and began gathering their berries. Livingston
supposed that 1t was proper, now that the riding was
ended for the present, that the company should inter-
mingle in some degree, and that the several boys should
aid and converse with all the other members of the party,
as occasion should offer, and not confine their attentions
altogether to the girls who had rode with them respect-
ively; he, accordingly, began to talk sometimes with
Mary Bell, sometimes with Ellen Linn, and sometimes
THE BLUEBERRY PARTY. 145

—



Occurrences on the mountain. The party descend. The party of boys.



with the children. He was induced to do this partly by
his sense of propriety and his judgment in respect to what
was fitting at such times, and partly by his inclination ; for
he had a strong desire to become better acquainted with
Ellen Linn. But Caroline seemed not to approve of this
course of proceeding. She had a great many excuses and
pretexts for bringing Livingston back to her whenever he
strayed away from where she herself was employed.
Sometimes she called him to see the prospect which was
presented from the place where she was standing, some-
times to climb up upon some rocks to get her a flower
which she saw growing there, and sometimes she wanted
him to carry her measure of berries to the great basket,
when she had filled her measure full.

Things went on pretty much in this manner all the
day. At noon the party assembled on a flat rock under
the shade of some trees and ate their dinner. After
dinner they spent about an hour in gathering berries
again. By this time the baskets and pails were generally
full, and Mr. Clarendon said that it was time for them to
set out on their return. So they assembled again at
their depot, took up their baskets and pails——which were
all now heavily laden,—and forming a procession as be-
fore, they began slowly to descend the mountain.

When they had come about half-way down the moun-
tain, the party overtook two boys who had been gathering
blueberries to sell. These boys had gone up very early,
and had been very industriously at work all day, and so
they were very heavily laden. They stopped at the side
of the path to rest, and to let the long company of
strangers go by. Caroline and Livingston were behind,
as it happened, at the time ; and when they came up to

L
146 CAROLINE.



Livingston stops to talk with them. Caroline’s threat.



where the boys were standing, they found that Mary
BeH and Ellen Linn had stopped to talk with them.
Livingston stopped. too.

Caroline ran on a few steps, and then looking back,
called out to Livingston to come.

“ Come Livingston,” said she, “ come down and get the
chaise ready.”

But Livingston remained still. He and Mary Bell were
trying to contrive some way to help the boys carry some
of their load. The boys were very small, and they looked
pretty tired.

“ Have you got to walk all the way to the village ?” said
Livingston.

“ Yes,” said one of the boys.

“Come, Livingston,” said Caroline, calling to him.
“If you don’t come, I shall go off in Mr. Clarendon’s
carriage.”

Livingston still lingered with the boys, but at length,
after having “changed about,” as they called it, the
baskets and pails which Livingston, Mary Bell, and Ellen
Linn were carrying, so as to get one of Livingston’s
hands free, Livingston took the heaviest of the boys’ pails,
and then they all came on together, following Caroline
down the hill.

Miss Rose had heard Caroline declare that she would
go in the carriage unless Livingston would come on, and
so when Caroline got to the foot of the mountain, she
proposed to Mr. Clarendon to invite her to get in with
them, just to see, as Miss Rose said, what Caroline
would do,

The driver of the carriage reached the place where the
horses had been left, first, and as he immediately har-
THE BLUEBERRY PARTY. 147



Caroline’s manceuvring. She gets into the carriage.



nessed. his horses, the carriage was ready first. When the
carriage was nearly ready, Mr. Clarendon asked Caroline
to get in and ride with them going home. “ You will
have an excellent good time,” said he, “riding in here
with Emma.”

“Well,” said Caroline—‘if Livingston makes no ob-
jection.”

She looked toward Livingston as she said this, expect-
ing that he would protest very earnestly against her riding
anywhere but in his chaise. But Livingston was very
busy harnessing his horse, and appeared not to hear what
she said.

So Caroline put her foot upon the step of the carriage,
and then looking toward Livingston, she said,

“ Livingston !”

Livingston looked up toward her. She smiled, as if to
say, “ See, I am going to get into the carriage.”

Livingston said nothing, but looked at Caroline as if he
did not understand.

“I am going to ride here with Mr. Clarendon ; I sup-
pose you will not make any objection.”

“ Certainly not,” said Livingston. “ You will find it
very pleasant in the carriage, I have no doubt.”

So saying, he dropped a trace which he held in his
hand, and hastened to the carriage to help Caroline
get in.

Caroline was very much disappointed, and somewhat
vexed, at this answer ; though she had no reason for being
so, for Livingston ought certainly not to object to her
riding home in any way that she considered most agree-
able. Caroline was, however, much disappointed, but
22
148 CAROLINE.

She determines to make Livingston yield. Exchange of salutations.







after what had passed she could not avoid getting into
the carriage. She, accordingly, took her seat by the side
of Emma, concluding to let it pass for a joke, and in a
few minutes get out again. Before she had time, how-
ever, to execute this manceuvre, Mr. Clarendon and Miss
Rose were ready, and came into the coach suddenly. The
driver shut the door and mounted upon the box, and be-
gan to turn the carriage round.

The more that Caroline thought of the occurrence, the
more she was inclined to be vexed with Livingston for
not having expressed ‘some interest in having her ride
home with him; and she now determined that he should
come and ask her to get out of the carriage and go back
to the chaise, or she would leave him to ride all the way
home alone. Livingston, on the other hand, though he
felt not a little embarrassed and mortified at the occur-
rence, thought that a lady ought to be left at liberty to
desert the gentleman who had taken her under his charge,
if she chose to do so; and that, as Caroline had gone
away of her own accord, he would allow her to remain
until she should conclude to come back of her own accord.
So when he had finished harnessing his horse, he got
into the chaise, and taking his seat in it, he followed on
after the carriage as soon as the carriage began to move.
Caroline, who was sitting upon the front seat of the car-
riage with her back to the horses, of course had her face
turned toward Livingston, and as the back curtain of the
carriage was up, she could see him very easily by looking
between Mr. Clarendon and Miss Rose. She smiled and
nodded at Livingston by way of wishing him a good time
in his solitude. Livingston responded to these salutations
by polite bows.
THE BLUEBERRY PARTY. 149



Livingston alone. Caroline loses her place entirely. Ellen’s mistake.





When the party came out into the road, Livingston
turned his chaise to one side in order to let Wallace
drive by.

“ What have you done with Caroline, Livingston ?”
said Wallace as he passed.

“ She has gone in the carriage,” said Livingston.
“Drive on. I have got io stop and see Rodolphus.”

So Wallace drove on, wondering what could have
caused the separation between Livingston and Caroline.

When Rodolphus came up, Livingston seemed to wish
to speak with him, and so Rodolphus stopped.

* Rodolphus,” said he, “ what do you think of helping
those boys home? Caroline has gorie in the carriage, and
now if you would let your sisters get in here with me, you
might carry them and their berries to the village with
you in the wagon.”

“ Well,” said Rodolphus, “that is an excellent plan.”

“Yes,” said Ellen, “how kind it was of Caroline to
think of it.”

She supposed that Caroline had given up her seat and
gone into the carriage intentionally, in order to make
room, so that the boys might have a ride.

So Livingston got out of his chaise and helped Ellen
and Annie down from the wagon, and the boys, who were
just then coming up, gotin. Caroline saw the whole of
this operation, from her seat in the carriage, though she
was too far off to hear what was said. She saw, how-
ever, that her place in the chaise with Livingston
being now occupied, there was no possibility of regain-
ing it.

Livingston waited till Rodolphus and the boys were
150 CAROLINE.



Livingston and Ellen ride home together.

ready, so as to let them go on before him, and thus
his chaise brought up the rear. He did this in order
that he might drive as slowly as he pleased. It was a
very pleasant evening, and he and Ellen and Annie rode
home very happily together.

THE END.

JOHN CHILDS AND SON, BUNGAY.






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