Front Cover
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 Scene of the story
 I: Phonny
 II: Beechnut
 Chapter III: The excursion on the...
 Chapter IV: Debates about...
 Chapter V: The Palanquin
 Chapter VI: Franco found
 Chapter VII: Calm mornings
 Chapter VIII: The snow-storm
 Chapter IX: Sugar making
 Chapter X: The encampment
 Back Cover

Group Title: Routledge's juvenile library
Title: Madeline
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00024835/00001
 Material Information
Title: Madeline a story of the early spring-time
Series Title: Routledge's juvenile library
Physical Description: 174, 10 p., 1 leaf of plates : col. ill. ; 18 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Abbott, Jacob, 1803-1879
George Routledge and Sons ( Publisher )
Woodfall and Kinder ( Printer )
Dalziel Brothers ( Engraver )
Publisher: George Routledge and Sons
Place of Publication: London
Manufacturer: Woodfall and Kinder
Publication Date: [1870?]
Subject: Responsibility -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Children -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Animal welfare -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Cousins -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Friendship -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Brothers and sisters -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Vacations -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Country life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1870
Genre: novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
Statement of Responsibility: by Jacob Abbott.
General Note: Illustrations engraved by Dalziel.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00024835
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002220867
notis - ALG1079
oclc - 57389868
 Related Items
Other version: Alternate version (PALMM)
PALMM Version

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
        Page i
    Title Page
        Page ii
        Page iii
        Page iv
    Table of Contents
        Page v
    Scene of the story
        Page vi (MULTIPLE)
    I: Phonny
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
    II: Beechnut
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
    Chapter III: The excursion on the snow
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
    Chapter IV: Debates about Franco
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
    Chapter V: The Palanquin
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
    Chapter VI: Franco found
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
    Chapter VII: Calm mornings
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
    Chapter VIII: The snow-storm
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
    Chapter IX: Sugar making
        Page 129
        Page 130
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
    Chapter X: The encampment
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
        Page 160
        Page 161
        Page 162
        Page 163
        Page 164
        Page 165
        Page 166
        Page 167
        Page 168
        Page 169
        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
    Back Cover
        Back Cover
Full Text




The Baldwin Library



A Sltory of fie targy pring-Eina.


The bleak winds of winter are past,
The frost and the snow are both gone,
And the trees are beginning at last
To put their green leafiness on.



THE development of the moral sentiments in the
S human heart, in early life-and everything, in fact,
which relates to the formation of character--is
determined in a far greater degree 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
towards the bird, and towards all the animal crea-
tion, which is produced by a sort of sympathetic
action, a power somewhat similar to what in phy-
sical philosophy is called induction. On the other
hand, if the father, instead of feeding the bird, goes
eagerly for a gun, in order that he may shoot it,
the boy will sympathize in that desire, and grow-
ing up under such an influence, there will be gra-
dually 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 case. Of a thousand children brought up
under the former if the above-described influences,
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 look
for a stone. Thus the growing up in the right
atmosphere, rather than the receiving of the right
instruction, is the condition which it is most imn-
portant to secure, in plans for forming the charac-
ters of children.
It is in accordance with this philosophy that the
stories of this Series, though written mainly with a
view to their moral influence on the hearts and
dispositions of the readers, contain very little formal
exhortation and instruction. They present quiet
and peaceful pictures of happy domestic life, por-
traying 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 re-
creation of the author in the intervals of more
serious pursuits.



Satne of 1it sfar.

A gien in Franconia at the North, with a spacious residence
at the entrance of it, and many farm-houses beyond, up
the glen. The time is early in the spring.

^rincinpul ^zrorts.

MADELINE, a child from New York, sent into the country
for her health; six years old.
WALLACE, her brother, a collegian, who has come with
Madeline to spend his vacation at Franconia.
ALPHONZo, called Phonny, Madeline's cousin, nine years old.
MRS. HENRY, Madeline's aunt.
ANToNIo BIANCHINETTE, called by the children BEECHNUT
for shortness; a French boy from Canada, living at Mrs.
IMAnl BELL, a quiet and gentle girl, living alone with her
mother, not far from Mrs. Henry's; eleven years old.
CAROLINE, an intelligent and accomplished young lady living
in the village; twelve years old.




THE ground was white with snow when Madeline
arrived at her aunt Henry's, and for several days
after her arrival there was a cold wind blowing
from the north, which made it unsafe for her to go
out of doors. At length one evening the wind
went down, and the next morning it was so warm
and pleasant, that Madeline, on going to the door
which led to the south platform, said that it would
be summer, if there were not so much snow upon
the ground.
There is no snow upon the platform," said her
aunt Henry; "and if you would like it you may
go out and sit there a little while." Madeline said
that she should like it very much indeed.
The south platform was a very warm and sunny


place. It was situated behind the house, and
looked out upon the garden. Beyond the garden
was an orchard, and beyond the orchard there
were steep rocks and mountains rising very high.
There was a roof over the platform, which was
supported by pillars, and steps in front leading
down to the yard.
When Madeline said that she should like to go
out upon the platform, Mrs. Henry went up-stairs
and brought down her bonnet, and also her muff
and tippet, and put the bonnet and the tippet on.
Madeline said that she thought she should not want
her muff, it was so warm. She, however, took it
in her hand. Her aunt brought out a pair of
woollen boots trimmed with fur, and put them upon
her feet.
Oh, what very nice warm boots!" said Made-
Her aunt then carried out Madeline's arm-chair,
and put it upon the platform, in the sunniest
corner. Then she came back after Madeline her-
"Shall I carry you out," said she, "or would
you rather walk ?"
"I believe I will walk," said Madeline. Then,
after a moment's hesitation, she added, "No; on
the whole, I should like to have you carry
Her aunt then took Madeline up in her arms,


and carried her out to the platform, and put her
in the chair.
"CAnd now I shall want Franco," said she;
"if you will be kind enough to bring him to me,
Mrs. Henry then went in and got Franco.
Franco was a small dog, with a fawn-coloured
body, ears, and tail, and a white face and neck.
In fact, excepting in his face and neck, he had
very much the colour of an African lion; and
Phonny, Madeline's cousin, wished to have had
him named Lion, on that account. But Madeline
preferred to have him named Franco. She had
read about a dog named Franco once, in a book.
Phonny then said that, on the whole, he did not
care much about his being named Lion, after all,
for he believed he would turn into a black dog
when he grew up; Beechnut had told him so.
When Mrs. Henry had put Franco down upon
the platform, he seemed overjoyed to see Made-
line, and ran toward her, capering about and
wagging his tail, with such a wriggling and twist-
ing all the time, as made it seem to Madeline that
he was trying to wag his whole body.
"Must I keep my hands in my muff all the
time, Aunty ? said Madeline.
"Oh no," said Mrs. Henry, "not if they are
warm enough without. If you find that you are
too warm you can loosen your tippet, too, or even


throw it of. Then if you begin to feel cool, you
can put it on again. All you have to do is to
keep yourself just comfortable. When you g t
tired of staying out here, you can come in; or if
you want anything you can knock at the windo
and I will come out."
Then Mrs. Henry went away and left Made-
line and Franco to themselves.
Franco sat down upon the platform before
Madeline, and looked up very earnestly into her
"Franco!" said Madeline.
Franco replied by rapping with his tail upon
the platform. He then sat still, cocking his head
to one side like a bird, and looking up into Made-
line's face with a very comical expression of coun-
"Jump up, Franco," said Madeline.
So saying, she patted her lap to signify to
Franco that she wished to have him jump up
there. Franco accordingly jumped up into her
lap; and then she found that there was not quite
room both for him and for the muff.
I '11 have my muff for a pillow," said she.
So saying, she put her muff behind her head
in the corner; for there was a corner at the place
where she was sitting. She leaned her head back
against it, and found that it made a very soft
and pleasant pillow. She then took Franco up


into her lap again. Franco laid his head down
upon Madeline's arm, shut his eyes, and went to
The garden and the fields were all covered with
snow. So were the steep hills and rocks beyond.
,Madeline looked over the surface of the snow in
the garden to see if she could tell where the paths
were; but she could not. The snow was too deep.
She could only judge where the principal alleys
were, by means of the rows of currant bushes, and
the peach and pear trees. There was an arbour,
too, at one side, covered with a vine, and she sup-
posed that there must be an alley leading to that.
"I shall be glad when the snow is gone," said she,
"and then I can walk in that garden."
Then she began to look at Franco again. She
liked very much to have him in her lap. She
wondered whether he ever would really turn into a
black dog, as Beechnut said; and, if so, how he
would do it. Perhaps he would change some time
in the night, she thought, and she should find him all
black in the morning; or perhaps it would happen
in the day-time, when she was playing with him,
or at least looking at him. Then she began to con-
sider whether she would like him as well if he were
a black dog, as she did now. Perhaps she should,
she thought, if he was jet black and very glossy.
Just then Madeline happened to look over the
garden and orchard to the hillside beyond, and there


among the rocks and trees she saw something black
moving. It seemed to be coming down over a great
patch of snow. She saw pretty soon that it was a
boy. He had a pole in his hand.
I verily believe it is Phonny," said she.
Phonny was her cousin.
Phonny, for it proved to be really he, continued
to descend, until at length he came down so low
that Madeline could see him very distinctly. He
stood up upon a projecting rock and called out to her.
Maddie Maddie come up here."
Madeline could not call out loud enough for
Phonny to hear her, so she shook her head and sat
still. Franco started up, pricked up his ears,
listened, and looked quite excited.
Presently, Madeline heard Phonny calling to her
"If you can't come," said he, "wont you ask
Wallace to come out and go with me to get our
Madeline shook her head.
Phonny waited a few minutes, and then finding
that Madeline did not move, he clambered down
from the rocks, and soon disappeared. He was
concealed by the trees of the orchard,'and by the
back fence of the garden.
Before long, however, Madeline saw him climbing
over the fence into the garden; and when he had
got over, he came along through the garden upon


the snow, which, though deep, was hard, and he
could walk upon the top of it.
When he reached the front part of the garden,
he climbed over the gate. He could not open
the gate, for the lower part of it was buried in the
Why could not you have asked cousin Wallace
to come ?" said Phonny.
"Oh, I couldn't very well," said Madeline.
"Well, I don't care much, on the whole," said
Phonny, "for I should have had to come to get my
Then Phonny, standing back a little in the yard,
looked up to a window of the second story and
called out to his cousin Wallace. He called several
times in a loud voice, but nobody answered.
I don't believe he is there," said Phonny.
"Yes, he is," said Madeline: "I saw him go
"I'll go up and see," said Phonny.
The window which Phonny was looking at was a
peculiar one. It opened down to the floor; and
outside of it, built against the side of the house,
there was a sort of balcony with a railing around
it. Persons within the chamber could raise the
window and step out upon the balcony, and stand
there. It was a very pleasant place in pleasant
weather.- The balcony was supported by two long
and slender postss' which extended down to the'


ground. There were pegs put through these posts,
at equal distances. intended to aid the plants and
vines in climbing up. Phonny sometimes made
use of these pegged posts for ladders, climbing up
into his cousin's room by means of them, in prefer-
e. ce to going round by the stairs. He determined
to do so now.
When he reached the top of the post, and was
about to climb over into the balcony, he stopped a
moment and looked down upon Madeline: for Ma-
deline was sitting where she could see him, by lean-
ing forward and looking around the corner.
"Why, Phonny!" said she, "you will fall."
"Oh no !" said Phonny; "I have been up here
a hundred times."
So saying, he climbed over the balustrade, opened
the window, and went in, and then Madeline could
see him no more. She knew, however, that he had
gone into her brother Wallace's room.
In a few minutes the window opened, and he
appeared again, and came climbing over the balus-
trade, as if to come down. As he was descending
the post, Madeline asked him what Wallace had
He says he is coming out on the balcony to
see," answered Phonny.
In a few minutes Wallace came out. He was a
young gentleman much older than Phonny. He
had dark auburn hair and dark eyes, and a very


intelligent, and, at the same time, a very kind ex-
pression of countenance. Madeline thought he was
very handsome, but then that was partly because
she loved him very much. We are all very much
inclined to think that those whom we love are
handsome, and that is a reason why all those
who wish to be thought handsome, should act
in such a manner as to make themselves be-
"It is pleasant enough to-day," said Wallace,
looking up at the sky.
"Oh yes," said Phonny; "it is a beautiful day.
I have been up on the rocks there, and the birds are
singing. It is as warm as summer."
"Well," said Wallace, "I will go. We shall
want an axe. Get it and be ready, and I will
come down in a few minutes."
So saying, Wallace turned, and was going back
into his room.
Just as he was disappearing, Phonny called out
to him again, "Cousin Wallace, may I take my
sled ?" said he.
"Yes," said Wallace.
"And may I ask Beechnut to go with us ?"
Wallace hesitated a moment, and then said,
"Madeline, then ?" asked Phonny,
"No," said Wallace, shaking his head.
Franco ?" said Phonny.


"Yes," said Wallace; "you may take Franco, if
Madeline is willing.
Well!" said Phonny, in a tone of great satisfac-
tion; and he went to get his sled.
In a few minutes he came around to the place
where Madeline was sitting, drawing his sled. The
axe was tied upon it with a rope.
"Come, Franco !" said Phonny.
Franco started up from his sleep, jumped down
from Madeline's lap, and ran to Phonny.
"Now, Phonny!" said Madeline, in a tone of
complaint, what did you call Franco away from
me for?"
"Why, he is going up in the woods with us,"
said Phonny. "Wallace said he might go."
No," said Madeline; "Wallace said he might
go if I was willing, and I am not willing. I want
him to stay with me."
"Oh no," said Phonny; "let him go with us,.
and I'llteach him to hunt. I shall see a squirrel, I
know, and perhaps a rabbit or a fox, and I'll teach
him to hunt them."
"No," said Madeline; "I don't wish to have him
taught to hunt."
And, besides," said Phonny, "I will get you
some snowdrops."
I don't believe there are any snowdrops," said
Madeline, despondingly.
Yes, there are plenty of them, I've no doubt,"


said Phonny. "I saw some green things grow-
ing by the rocks, up there where you saw me, and
I have no doubt there are plenty of snowdrops
away in the woods. I'll bring you down ever so
Phonny spoke very fast and very eagerly in
saying these things; and Madeline, who was weak
and feeble, was tired of arguing with him, though
she was still unwilling to have Franco go. She
called Franco to her, but he was so much excited
by seeing Phonny and the sled, and by the pro-
spect of an expedition, that he would not come.
So Madeline laid her head back upon her muff
again, in a sort of despair, while Phonny began to
draw his sled along, saying as he went away, I'll
bring him back to you in an hour or two, Maddie,
and I'll bring you ever so many snowdrops, too."
He then ran along toward the pasture-road, Franco
leaping and capering about him, extremely delighted
with the idea that he was going somewhere, though
he did not know where.
There was a great gate which led from the yard
behind the house to the pasture road. This gate
was wide open. It was always left open in the
winter. Phonny climbed up upon the top of one
of the posts and sat there, waiting for Wallace.
Franco waited below. He sat down by the side of
She sled.
"That's right, Franco," said Phonny; "you


watch the sled and the axe, and I'll watch for
Franco patted the snow two or three times with
his tail, by way of acceptance of the trust com-
mitted to him, and began to watch.



MADELINE felt very much disappointed and very
sorry to have Franco go away. She was afraid
that he would get lost in the woods. After a
short time, however, she began to think of other
things, and she soon forgot her trouble alto-
The warm sun shone so pleasantly and cheerfully
upon her, and the fresh, spring-like air produced so
invigorating an effect as to make her feel quite
bright and happy. She took her muff away from
the corner, where she had placed it to serve for a
pillow, and laid it down upon the platform, by
her side, and then she began to sit upright in her
chair, without any pillow. Then soon afterwards,
she took off her tippet, and laid it down upon her


I think I'll take a little walk," said she. So
she got up and began to walk along the piazza.
As she walked, she talked to herself as follows:-
"What a pleasant day, and how still it is!
Hark! I can hear a dropping. I suppose the snow
is beginning to melt, or else it is a woodpecker. I
should like to see a woodpecker. I wonder if
Phonny will see a woodpecker up in the woods to-
day. Oh dear me! I wish Phonny would not take
Franco away from me so."
Between the platform where Madeline was walk-
ing- and the garden, there was a very pleasant little
yard; the sun shone so warm upon this yard that
the snow had been entirely melted away from the
part next the house, so that Madeline could see the
walks and the grass-plots-only the grass was not
yet green. Madeline wondered how soon it would
be green. She saw the ground was dry, and so
she stepped down and began to walk upon it. She
presently saw a plank-walk leading along by the
side of the yard, and as she was not quite sure that
it was right for her to go upon the ground, she
went to the plank-walk and stepped upon that.
Then she concluded that she would walk along
upon the planks a little way, they were so warm
and sunny.
The plank-walk led to the clothes yard. Made-
line walked along upon it between some rose and
lilac bushes on one side and the side of a shed upon


the other, until she came to a door leading into the
shed. The door was shut, but Madeline deter-
mined to open it, to see what there was in there.
The latch was so high that she could hardly reach
it. She however succeeded in getting her forefinger
upon the latch, and the door opened.
Madeline looked in and saw that the place was a
sort of shed. There was no floor, but the ground,
was covered with fine chips. On the opposite side
of the shed from the door where Madeline was
looking in, there was a very large double door,
which was wide open, so that Madeline could look
quite through the shed into another yard be-
There were various things in the shed, which
for a time strongly attracted Madeline's attention.
There was a saw-horse, and a pile of wood by the
side of it. Madeline wondered where the saw was,
and presently she saw it hanging up in its place on
the wall of the shed, between the beams. There
were various other tools hanging up too, all in good
order. In one place there were some straps and
harnesses, and two great buffalo-skins, suspended
from wooden pins.
After Madeline had looked at these things for
some time, she thought she heard a sound as if
some one was cutting wood, out in the yard be-
yond. She listened.
"I wonder who that's cutting wood," said she.


"I verily believe it is Beechnut." Then she hs-
tened again. As it was, however, obviously im-
possible to determine who the wood-cutter was by
merely listening to the sound of the axe, Madeline
determined to go and see.
She accordingly walked through the shed to the
great open door on the other side. She looked
out in the direction from whence the sounds came,
but could not see who it was that was cutting
wood; the great wood-pile was in the way. She
knew, however, that it must be Beechnut, and she
wished very much to go where he was. She soon
found she could not do this; for the yard be-
tween her and the wood-pile, and all that side of
the wood-pile which was toward her, was covered
With snow, and she thought that she ought not to
step upon the snow.
"I'll call him," said she, and she began imme-
diately to call out as loud as she could, which was
not, after all, very loud.
"An-to-ni-o An-to-ni-o!"
At first Antonio did not hear. The noise which
he himself made by his wood-cutting prevented
him. Presently, however, the sound of the axe
ceased. Antonio was turning over his log to cut
upon the other side. Then Madeline called again.
Antonio now heard her voice, and he immediately
Same round by the end of the wood-pile, to see who
't was that was calling him.

Antonio was a tall boy, about twelve years of
age. He had a round black cap upon his head,
with a tassel hanging down upon the side. He had
his axe in his hand.
"Ah, Miss Madeline," said Antonio, I have the
honour t' wish you a very good morning."
I want to come out where you are," said Made-
Most certainly," said Antonio; "and would you
like to walk or ride?"
"Why-ride," said Madeline.
"And in what vehicle?" said Antonio.
"What does that mean ?" asked Madeline.
"Why, by what conveyance ? Will you ride in a
chaise, a carriage, a cart, or a drag?"
Now Antonio-or Beechnut, as the children often
called him-was always saying or doing something
which they considered funny, and when they were
with him they always expected to be amused. So
Madeline, after hesitating a moment, concluded to
say a sledge. Besides, she supposed that it would
be safer to go over the snow on something flat and
low. So she said, On a drag."
And by what draught? asked Antonio.
What does that mean? said Madeline.
Why, how will you be drawn? by oxen, or a
horse, or a locomotive, or a bear? said Antonio.
Why-by a bear," said Madeline.
Very well," said Antonio; and saying this, he


went round behind the end of the wood-pile again
and disappeared.
Madeline waited some minutes, but he did not
return, and she began to wonder what had become
of him. At last she heard a noise behind her like
the growling of a bear. She looked around, and
there she saw Antonio all covered up with a bear-
skin, and crawling along slowly on his hands and
knees, growling as he came.
Why, Beechnut! said Madeline.
Beechnut then threw off his bearskin, and got up.
He then went to the side of the shed, and got an
old waiter, such as is used at a tea-table. It was
worn out, and hadbeen rejected from the house,
but Beechnut had saved it, thinking that he could
perhaps make use of it for some purpose or other.
He brought it out now, and put it down upon the
snow, telling Madeline that that was her drag.
He then helped Madeline to seat herself upon it.
The waiter was large, so that there was plenty of
room for her to sit.
Beechnut next went and got a strap from among
the harnesses, and fastened it to the handle of the
waiter. He then wrapped himself up again in his
bearskin, got down upon all-fours, took hold of the
end of the strap, and began dragging Madeline
along over the snow, growling all the time like a
The side of the wood-pile which had been to.

ward Madeline was covered with snow, but the
other side was warm and sunny. Beechnut took
her round to the sunny side, drew her over the
chips to a pleasant corner, where she could lean
against a smooth log, and then, throwing the black
bearskin upon the wood-pile, returned to his work.
Madeline laid her arm upon the log against
which Beechnut had placed her.
Oh, what a smooth tree said she.
It was a beech log, and the bark of the beech is
very smooth.
Beechnut," said she, I wish you would make
me a seat with the bearskin."
Certainly I will, if you will tell me a story
Oh, I cannot tell a story," said Madeline.
"Ah, yes," said Beechnut; "just a little story
to amuse me at my work."
While saying this, Beechnut was beginning to
make Madeline's seat. He put a little board down
near the end of the beech log, supporting it upon
two sticks, so as to make a little bench. He then
spread the bearskin over the seat and log, in such a
manner as to make a sort of cushion, very soft and
warm. Madeline could lean and rest upon the log,
as if it were the arm of a sofa.
In fact, as the log was covered and concealed by a
part of the bearskin, nobody could know that it was
not the arm of a sofa.


When the seat was finished, Madeline sat dowr
upon it, and leaned her head back among the higher
logs of the wood-pile, with her muff for a pillow.
Then Beechnut returned to his work.
In a few minutes, during which Madeline had
been musing in silence, or singing to herself a little
song, Beechnut had got his log cut off, and he
turned round and asked her how she liked her
Very much indeed," said Madeline. It
makes me a very good sofa, only the bearskin is
very black and shaggy. But, Beechnut, I wish
that you would go in and ask my aunt Henry if I
may come out here."
Why, you are out here already," said Beech-
"I know it," said Madeline; but I am afraid
my aunt Henry will not like to have me come."
Yes, she will," said Beechnut, I am sure.
It is a very safe place; for, you see, I turn my
wood so that the chips all fly the other way."
But Madeline was very uneasy about having
come away so far from the platform where her
aunt had placed her, and she finally persuaded
Beechnut to go in and obtain her aunt's sanction
to the proceeding. While Beechnut was in the
house, he went down into the cellar, and obtained
a large and beautiful apple, which he intended to
have given to Madeline when he came back; he


however put the apple in his pocket, and when he
returned to where she was sitting, he forgot it.
When he resumed his work, he began to split
open the logs which he had cut, by means of a
beetle and wedges, talking all the time to Made-
line in a very amusing manner, telling her stories,
and making her laugh continually. Sometimes
he would come and sit down by her a few
minutes, and talk with her, or hold dialogues with
imaginary squirrels or bears under the wood-pile,
or sing songs. His songs consisted generally of
old French tunes, which he had learned in France
when he was a child, sung to words which he had
made up in English, while he was singing to amuse
Beechnut made Madeline a doll, too, while he
was sitting there by the wood-pile. He made it of
the branch of a tree which had two little branches,
which he cut off for arms, and two others which
answered for legs.
At last Madeline asked him to tell he: another
story. So Beechnut began as follows:-


a Once there was a giant," said Beechnut, a
great ugly giant, with a terrible face and a large
black club. He lived in a den."


But I don't want to hear such a story as that,'
said Madeline; I don't like to hear about giants,
it frightens me so much."
Oh, this story won't frighten you. This was a
good giant."
But you said he was ugly," replied Made-
He looked ugly," said Beechnut, that was all
I said he looked ugly."
What was his name?" asked Madeline.
His name," said Beechnut, his name-why
his name was-Golgorondo."
I don't believe he was good," said Madeline,
shaking her head doubtfully.
He was, truly," said Beechnut, turning round
and looking at Madeline very earnestly. He was
a very good giant indeed."
Then what did he want with that great black
club?" said Madeline.
"Why, it only looked like a club. It was hollow,
and there was something inside. He could unscrew
the handle, and draw it out like a sword out of a
What was it inside ?" asked Mad'eline.
It was a long and beautiful feather."
Did this giant live in France?" asked Made.
The reason why Madeline supposed that Golgo-
rondo lived in France was because Beechnut came

from France, and a great many of the stories which
he told, related to that country.
Yes," said Beechnut, "he lived in France
among the Pyrenees."
Are there any giants in France now?" asked
No," said Beechnut, the Emperor killed them
all at Waterloo."
I'm glad of that," said Madeline.
One day old Golgorondo was sitting at the
mouth of his den, sick of a fever and very thirsty.
A boy came along with a red cap on his head.
'Red Cap, Red Cap,' said Golgorondo, I'm feverish
and thirsty; I wish you would take this mug, and
go down to the spring, and bring me a mug of cool
water.' 'I can't go now very well,' said Red
Cap. 'I want to go and play.' Very well, run
along,' said Golgorondo.
"Presently a girl came by, with a green ribbon
on her bonnet. 'Green Ribbon, Green Ribbon,'
said Golgorondo, 'I'm feverish and thirsty; take
this mug, and go down to the spring, and get me
a drink of good cool water.' 'I'm afraid of you,'
said Green Ribbon, 'you look so ugly. Im going
to run away.' 'Well, run along,' said Golgo-
"Pretty soon after that another boy came by,
with a blue cap on his head. Blue Cap, Blue
Cap,' said Golgorondo, 'I'm feverish and thirsty;


take this mug, and go down to the spring, and bring
me a drink of good cool water.' Yes,' said Blue
Cap, 'I will.' So Blue Cap took the mug, and
went down to the spring, and brought the giant
back a mugful of water. When he had drank it
all, Blue Cap asked him if he wanted any more.
'One mugful more,' said Golgorondo. So Blue
Cap went down and brought up one mugful more.
Then Golgorondo said, Now I shall get well to-
night; come and see me to-morrow, and I will re-
ward you for going to the spring and bringing me
the mugs of water.' "
"And did he get well ?" asked Madeline.
"Yes, and the next day Blue Cap came again."
"And what did the giant give him?"
"A magic bowl," said Beechnut-" a magic
silver bowl. He went into his den, and unlocked
an iron door, built into the rocks, in the side of his
den. It opened into a sort of cupboard, or closet,
which was full of treasures. He took out a beauti-
ful silver bowl. It had a sort of saucer under it,
and a cover upon the top, and it was ornamented
on all sides with beautiful figures, cut in the silver.
The knob of the cover, which was used as a handle
for taking the cover off, was the figure of a beauti-
ful dog, and a little below, upon the side of the
cover, was the figure of a hunter and a hare. The
giant told him that the charm of the bowl was in the
hunter and the hare, and that by means of the bowl
be could have any thing that he wanted that was


good to eat, provided that he was a good poet.
The way was to shut up the bowl and take it in his
lap, and then say something about the hunter and
the hare, for one line, and make up another to
rhyme with it, asking for whatever he wanted. For
example he might say,-
Slver huntsman hunting the hare,
Open your goblet and give me a pear.'

And then, on opening the bowl, he would find the
pear within."
"And would he truly ?" asked Madeline.
"Yes," said Beechnut, "according to the story; for
Blue Cap took the bowl, put it in his lap and said,-
"' Silver hunter, silver hare,
Give me, if you please, a pear.'"

"Why, he altered the poetry," said Madeline.
Yes," said Beechnut, "he did not remember it
exactly, but the giant-said that that was of no con-
sequence, so long as his lines made good poetry.
Blue Cap opened the bowl as soon as he had re-
peated the lines, and there he found inside, a large
ripe, mellow, and juicy pear. All this time the
giant was sitting by the side of his den."
I should like such a bowl as that," said Made-
"Blue Cap ate his pear, and then he wanted
another; so he put on the cover of the bowl and
said again-


Silver hunter, silver hare,
I want a sweet and juicy pear.'"
And then he opened the bowl, but there was
nothing in it. 'That won't do,' said Golgorondo.
' The same poetry will not answer twice the same
day: you must make some new lines.' So Blue
Cap thought a minute, and then he said-
"'Silver hunter, silver hare,
Bring me an apple and a pear.'"
"And did he get an apple and a pear?" asked
"Yes," said Beechnut, "only the pear was not
quite so large as the other one. Blue Cap put the
apple and the pear in his pocket, and thanked the
giant for his bowl. He liked it very much? He
then went away, carrying the bowl under his arm.
When he got home, he showed his bowl to his
sister, and they tried to make some new lines, but
they found it very hard. At last they thought of
Silver hunter, climbing high,
Give me a piece of apple-pie.'"
"And did they get a piece of apple-pie ?" asked
"A whole one," said Beechnut; "there was a
whole pie, as large as would go into the bowl, with
beautiful figures of dogs, horses, and huntsmen, on
the crust."


"Oh, what a good bowl," said Madeline. "1
wish I had such a bowl. Is that story true, Beech-
nut?" said Madeline, after musing a little.
"True !" said Beechnut; "it is true as-my axo
"Is your axe handle pretty true?" asked Ma-
"Not very," said Beechnut.
What is the matter with it ?" asked Madeline.
"Oh, it has got a set, somehow or other, to
one side."
Madeline sat musing a few minutes, wondering
what that could mean, and then giving up the
attempt to understand it, she said-
But is that story really and veritably true? I
don't believe there could be any such bowl."
"Do you wish that you had one like it?" said
"Yes," said Madeline; "for the first thing, I
would have a good large apple to roast."
"Why I've got magic enough to get you an
apple to roast," said Beechnut.
So he came to the place where Madeline was
sitting, and kneeled down. "I'll get you an
apple," said he, "from under this log." So he
covered over the end of the log with the bearskin,
very carefully, and then directed Madeline to, put
her two fingers together upon her knee, and to watch
them carefully, while he spoke the magic words.


So Madeline watched her fingers very closely,
while Beechnut repeated these lines, in a measured
way, half singing and half speaking:

"Under the end of the beechnut tree,
Madeline, Madeline, peep and see:
One for you, and none for me.
Bobalink, bobalink, pee-dee-dee."

Then he lifted up the bearskin a little, and let
Madeline peep in, and there she saw a fine large
russet apple lying on the chips. Madeline put her
hand through the opening which Beechnut made,
and took the apple out.
Beechnut told her that she must not eat the
apple, but must keep it to roast, when she went into
the house.
Pretty soon after this, Madeline began to get up,
saying that it was time for her to go in. The truth
was, she wanted to roast her apple.
Beechnut then said that he was very much
obliged to her for giving him her company so long,
and that the next time she came out to see him, he
would make her something.
"What will you make me ?" asked Madeline.
"Oh, I don't know exactly," said Beechnut. "I
will make you a horse, or a see-saw, whichever you
"Well," said Madeline, speaking in a tone of
great satisfaction.


Beechnut then took Madeline up in his arms, and
carried her across the snow, back to the shed. She
said that she did not wish to go on the drag ngain.
Beechnut put her down at the shed door, and Ma-
deline walked through the shed to the other yard,
and thence along the planks to the platform, talking
to herself by the way, as follows:-
I don't believe the story was true. I don't be-
lieve there could be such a bowl. Silver hunter,
silver rabbit, bobalink, bobalink, pee-dee-dee. Sil-
ver hunter, silver pear. Madeline, Madeline, look
and see, under the end of the beechnut tree."
Saying and singing these words, Madeline opened
the door and went into the house.
Madeline was right in supposing that the story
was not true. Beechnut had invented it at the time
to amuse her; and in respect to the apple under
the beechnut log, it was the one which he had had
in his pocket, and he contrived to reach his arm
back into the wood-pile, while Madeline was watch-
ing the ends of her fingers so intently, and drop it
through a crevice, so that it would roll down to the
place where Madeline found it, under the projecting
end of the log.
That night Madeline began to tell Phonny the
story of Golgorondo and the bowl, as they were
going up-stairs to bed. They stopped at the head
of the stairs to finish the story, and sat down upon
the highest step. She related all the incidents of


the story, but she could not remember the poetry
very well. She said that the first line was silver
huntsman, silver rabbit, but she could not remember
the rest.
Phonny said he guessed it was this:

Silver huntsman, silver rabbit,
Give me an apple and I 'll grab it."

The children laughed loud and long at the drol-
lery of this conjectural versification, and then went
to their rooms.



WHILE Madeline was playing about the yards, and
listening to Beechnut's stories, as described in the
last chapter, Wallace and Phonny had been prose-
cuting their enterprise up the pasture road, and
meeting with various adventures by the way. The
road which they took led from the yard behind the
house, up through a wild ravine to the pasture, and
it was called accordingly the pasture road. The
pasture consisted of an extensive region of valleys
and bills, which contained an endless variety ,f


sylvan scenery. There were groves, thickets, ana
glens, with green grassy slopes on the hillsides, and
swamps covered with a dense growth of forest trees
in the dells. There were also steep mountainous
declivities feathered with dark evergreens from bot-
tom to top, and rocky precipices and summits rising
here and there, giving a sort of wild sublimity to
the scene.
In the summer time all appeared verdant and
beautiful in this secluded region; but.now, though
the foliage of the evergreens in the glens and on the
mountain sides seemed darker and more dense than
ever, the branches of the deciduous trees were bari.
and the ground was almost every where cover
with one vast sheet of consolidated snow. Although
this snow was two or three feet deep, it was so
hard in the mornings before the sun had softened
it that one could walk upon it as well as upon a
Wallace and Phonny were going into the woods
to obtain some long poles to make what Phonny
called harpoons. Each pole was to have an iron
spike driven into one end of it, a flat ring having
been previously driven upon the wood at the end to
prevent its splitting. These harpoons thus com-
pleted were intended to be used upon the pier, at
the bank of the river, to draw in the logs, and
planks, and trunks of trees, and other things which
might come floating down the stream in the spring

freshets after the ice should have entirely gone
In the vicinity of the pier where Phonny used to
stand to harpoon the logs which came floating by,
there was a curve in the river, above the mouth
the brook; and in consequence of this bend in
the shore the current of the stream was thrown
across upon the other bank, so that whatever came
floating down was generally borne over near to
the pier where Phonny, when watching for drift-
wood, stood ready to pierce it with his har-
Sometimes the water rose so high as to cover
the pier entirely, and in very high freshets it
would flow back till it almost touched the foot
of the great oak-tree, standing not far from the
gate leading down to the river. In such cases
as this, Phonny would stand upon the land at
the edge of the water, sometimes under the
tree, and at others farther down the river toward
the right, wherever he saw the logs and driftwood
coming. When they came within his reach he
would strike his long harpoon into them and draw
them to the shore. The waters subsiding would
leave them there, and then he and Beechnut would
cut them up, and have them hauled to the house
for fire-wood; and in the evenings he would make
capital bonfires of the brush and chips that re-


At the time of which we are speaking in this
story the river was covered with ice, which was
solid and immoveable from shore to shoe. There
were roads upon it, on which teams used to pass
up and down, and patches of smooth and glassy
surface here and there, where the boys from the
village were accustomed to come to slide, and
skate, and play. The harpoons could of course
not be used until the ice went away; but Phonny
was very earnest to have them ready. Those
which he had the year before were broken, and
besides, he wanted longer ones than he had then,
for he had grown a great deal larger and stronger
since the preceding spring. He had saved the
spikes and the rings belonging to the old harpoons,
and was intending to use them again in making
the new ones.
Wallace had never been in this country in the
spring, and had never witnessed this kind of fish-
ing for floating planks and logs. He had heard
Phonny's description, however, of the amusement,
and he had promised to go with him to obtain some
new poles. He determined to get one for himself
too, as he thought that harpooning the floating
timber would afford good exercise and recreation
for him, as well as amusement for Phonny.
The party, accordingly, consisting of Wallace,
Phonny, and the dog, went along the pasture
road from the gate behind the house where


Phonny and Franco had waited for Wallace, and
then, after passing round the foot of the precipice,
they went on ascending the valley on the other
side, until they came to a pair of bars. These
bars were at the entrance of the pasture. The
bars were out, as they usually are in all farms in
the winter, since at that season of the year the
horses and cows are in the barn, ard then of
course the out-door inclosures of a farm are of no
use. The bars were long and slender poles, and
after having been taken out they had been placed
against the fence, the small ends of the bars resting
upon the top of the fence, and the larger end run-
ning down under the snow to the ground. Phonny
thought that such bars as these would do for har.
poons, but Wallace said they were,altogether too
large and heavy. Phonny tried to pull one of them
out to see, but the lower end was held so hard by
the frozen snow that he could not do it.
While he was pulling at the bars, Wallace
walked steadily on up the path. On one side was a
steep bank, on the other a deep and sombre-looking
ravine, filled with evergreen trees, some of which
were so far down in the valley, that the tops of
them were below where Wallace was walking.
There was a large brook in the bottom of the ra-
vine; but it was so far below, and was so hidden
by the trees, and now besides so covered with ice
and snow, that Wallace could not see it. He could,


however, hear the sound of the water running over
the rocks, the air was so calm and still. Wallace
was very much pleased with the beauties of the
spring morning and with the wild scenery around
him, and he walked quietly along, observing them
and musing; but Phonny continually interrupted
him, by calling out to him from behind.
Oh, Wallace! Wallace !" said he at one time,
Here's a bee upon the snow."
Wallace turned round, and walked backward for
a step or two, but he did not stop.
: Wallace," said Phonny next, here is a tree
that will make a good pole for us."
No," said Wallace, continuing at the same time
to walk along.
The fact was that Phonny had fallen behind, and
he wished to have Wallace wait for him. Finally,
when he found that he could not induce him to
stop by these indirect means, he called out aloud
"Wallace, I wish you would wait a minute for
So Wallace turned to one side of the road, and
sat down upon a stone. Phonny came up pre-
sently, pulling his sled as he came, and out of
breath with his exertion.
"You should not get so much behind," said
Why, you walk so fast," said Phonny, "I can't
keep up."


"On the contrary," replied Wallace, "I walk
very slowly, only I continue steadily advancing,
while you are all the time making diversions to the
right and left. You must go on more steadily, and
save your strength for cutting the poles. Now,
shall we go on?"
"Yes," said Phonny; "but I wish that you
would draw me a little way on the sled."
"When we get to the top of the hill," said
In fact, they were very near the top of the ascent
then, and they came upon a broad and level ex-
panse, which was at that season one great field of
hardened snow. Phonny got upon the sled, and
took Franco on before him. Wallace then took
hold of the rope and walked along upon the snow,
drawing the sled after him.
"Why, how smoothly the sled runs this morn-
ing !" said Wallace.
"Does it ?" said Phonny.
"Yes," replied Wallace; "I should not know
that any one was upon it."
So saying, Wallace dropped one finger after
another from its hold upon the rope, until only the
little finger was left, and he found that he could
draw the sled with that finger alone. Phonny was
surprised at this, and presently he wished to see
whether he could not draw Wallace. So Wallace
took his seat upon the sled, and Phonny drew him


for some distance. At length he got tired, and
stopped, and Wallace began to walk again.
Phonny then said he would teach Franco to ride.
So he put him upon the sled, and in a very stern
and commanding voice ordered him to sit still. But
Franco jumped off the moment that Phonny's hands
were removed from him.
"Wallace," said Phonny, "please be so good as
to hold Franco on the sled a minute-just till I get
him a-going."
So Wallace came and held Franco in his place,
quieting him at the same time with soothing words,
while Phonny took up the string of the sled and
began slowly to draw it along.
"Carefully," said Wallace.
Phonny moved along very carefully. Franco
seemed somewhat astonished, and looked this way
and that, but he remained in his place, seemingly
because he was afraid to jump off, while the sled
was in motion. At last, however, the sled came to
an uneven place in the snow, which jolted it a little,
and then Francojumped off and ran away. Phonny
dropped the string and ran after him to bring him
Phonny then made several other attempts to keep
Franco on the sled, until he could get it in motion,
while Wallace in the mean time was walking on
He had taken a book out of his pocket, and was
going slowly along, reading by the way. Phnny,


who, though he was a well-disposed and good-
natured boy, had very little discretion, began to
call to Wallace again, to make him wait until hie
should overtake him.
"Wallace, see! see! he is riding now."
"Very well," said Wallace; still, however, not
raising his eyes from his book.
There he is off! Just wait one minute, Wal-
lace, while I put him on once more."
Wallace walked a little more slowly, but he con-
tinued to advance, reading as before.
At length Wallace came to the end of the level
field, and there the land began to descend in the
direction in which they were going. It descended
for a little distance, and then began to rise again;
though at the place where it began to rise, by turn-
ing off to the right, one might go down a long dis-
tance back in the direction from which the party
had come. Wallace stopped at the top of this
descent, until Phonny came up.
"Pholmy," said he, "you trouble me a great
deal by getting behind, and then continually calling
upon me to keep me back. Now, here is a chance
for you to get well before me, by sliding down this
hill; then you can keep before me going up the hill
beyond; and you must amuse yourself without
calling upon me, unless it is for something really
necessary. If you get behind again, I cannot wait
for you, but will go on to the upper wood, and when


you get there you will find me by the sound of my
But I have got the axe," said Phonny, tied
to my sled."
True," said Wallace. Then call, and I will
"I don't mean to get behind again," said Phonny.
So he sat down upon his sled, with his feet out
before him to steer, and calling Franco to come to
him, he pulled him upon the sled before him, pnd
began to slide. When he got to the bottom of the
first slope, where he should have stopped his sled,
and then have gone on up the ascent beyond, the
continued descent to the right looked so tempting
that he thought he would go on. He let his sled,
therefore, gradually turn down the hill. It went
gracefully along, gliding over the swelling inequali-
ties of the way, and turning to one side and another,
as the various slopes of the surface inclined it, until
at last it came to the end of the descent, where,
going slower and slower along the level surfiae, it
finally stopped.
Phonny thought it a most delightful slide, and
he looked back to see whether Wallace was admir-
ing it too. Wallace had by this time got down the
first slope, and was slowly walking up the ascent
beyond. Phonny jumped off from his sled, and
began to run back up the hill, drawing his sled after
.him, and calling Franco to follow him.


Wallace was now at a considerable distance m
advance, and he was often concealed from view by
the rocks, or by the little groups of evergreen trees
that came in the way. Phonny hurried along,
anxious to overtake him. He was afraid that he
should not be able to find him after he should have
got into the woods. While he was 'pressing for-
ward in this eager manner, all at once France
stopped following him, and began to run around
hither and thither, and to bark and howl in a very
extraordinary manner. Presently he ran into a
little cluster of bushes, where he crouched down
under a stone, trembling and whining, and appear-
ing to be very much distressed. Phonny thought
that he was running mad, or else that he was going
to have a fit.
Phonny ran out to a little elevation, where he
could see Wallace walking up the hill at a consider-
able distance. He was reading his book as before.
Phonny called to him, but Wallace, though he
heard him, paid no attention, but walked steadily,
on. Phonny called.again louder than before. But
Wallace was tired of being called upon from behind
so frequently. Besides, he had given Phonny fair
notice that if he fell behind again, he must make
the best of his way alone, and not expect his cousin
to stop for him any more. So Wallace went on,
and paid no heed to Phonny's calling.
SPhonny was greatly troubled and distressed, and


did not know what to do. He was afraid to take
up Franco and bring him along, for he thought it
very probable that he was running mad. He was
very unwilling to leave him; and then he was
equally unwilling to stay by him and let Wallace
go on. Wallace would get so far into the woods,
he thought, that he should not be able to find him.
He began, in fact, to be quite frightened.
At length, finding that the emergency was such
as to admit of no more delay, but that something
must be done immediately, he made a desperate
effort to summon resolution and courage, and ran to
the rock under which Franco was crouching, seized
him in his arms, and began to bring him away.
He ran along with him a few steps, and then find-
ing it very inconvenient to carry the dog and draw
his sled, he put the dog down, hoping that now he
would go along with him of his own accord. But
Franco acted very strangely. He crouched down
at Phonny's feet, and seemed to be either in great
pain or else in great terror. He, however, went on
with Phonny a few steps farther, and then, just as
they were passing through a little copse of bushes,
he seemed to be attacked by a new paroxysm, more
violent than the other. He barked, howled, and
whined in the most frightful and distressing man-
ner. He ran about this way and that, as if he were
distracted. Presently he fled, as if for refuge,
wander the roots of an old tree which had been over-


turned by the wind. There was a cavity between
these roots and the ground, and into this cavity
Franco plunged and disappeared, and became im-
mediate.y silent. Phonny listened a few minutes,
and heard nothing more. He thought Franco was
dying, but he did not dare to go and see.
He immediately determined to abandon him, and
to make the best of his way to Wallace; and then
to ask Wallace to come back and see what was the
matter. Wallace was now out of sight. Phonny
pressed forward, however, up the hill, in the direc-
tion in which he had gone. After ascending for some
time, he came in sight of what appeared to be a
man sitting upon a stone on the top of a little hill,
where the ground was bare. He soon perceived
that it was Wallace waiting for him. He toiled up
the hill as fast as he could, drawing the sled behind
him. Just before he reached the place where Wal-
lace was sitting, Wallace said to him-
"See, Phonny, I have discovered an island."
"An island ?" said Phonny, in an inquiring tone.
"Yes," said Wallace. Here is a grassy mound,
rising up out of the snow, and I call it an island.
It is an island with two trees on it and a rock."
"I wish you would come back with me," said
Phonny, and see what is the matter with Franco."
"Why, what seems to be the matter with him ?"
asked Wallace.
I expect he is mad," answered Phonny. Phonny


then proceeded to describe the occurrences as well
as he could, and the strange manner in which
Franco had acted. "He had gone finally," Phonny
said, and hid under the roots of a tree." Phonny
concluded by asking Wallace to go and see what
was the matter with him.
Come," said he.
But Wallace sat still, musing. He seemed to be
considering what it was best for him to do.
"Do you think he is nad or not?" asked Phonny.
"I think he is not," said Wallace.
"Then why will you not go and help me get him?"
"Because," said Wallace, I do not know that
he is not mad."
"What are the signs of being mad ?" asked
I don't know," replied Wallace. "I know very
little about dogs, and I should not like to have one,
if I was a boy."
"Ilike dogs very much," said Phonny.
"So do I," said Wallace.
"But you just said that you did not like them,"
replied Phonny.
"No," said Wallace, "I said that I should not
like to have one."
"That's just the same thing," said Phonny, "and
I think it is a contradiction."
"No," said Wallace. "I like the character of
the dog very much. He is sagacious, affectionate,


faithful, and true. But I should not like to have
one, for fear that some time or other he might run
mad. Then whenever he was sick, or if he acted
in an unusual manner, I should be imagining that
he was going to be mad, and so should be always
But there is very little danger of a dog's get-
ting mad," said Phonny, "very little indeed."
That is true," said Wallace; being bit by a
mad dog is a very rare accident, I admit; but then
it is such an awful calamity when it does occur,
that I am afraid to incur any risk of it."
"Well, what do you think is the matter with
Franco now," asked Phonny.
"I presume he was frightened at something."
"No," said Phonny, "there was nothing to
frighten him."
Prhaps he is sick, then," said Wallace.
"Yes," said Phonny, "I think he is sick. I wish
you would go with me and get him."
"No," said Wallace, "we will let him remain
where he is for the present, and will go up in the
woods and get our poles. Then when we come
down, I will go and see if I can find him. If it is
sickness, perhaps he will be better then."
Or perhaps he will be dead," said Phonny.
Yes," replied Wallace, perhaps he will be
dead. I hope he will be."
"Oh, Wallace!" said Phonny.

Wallace did not reply to this exclamation, but
rose from his seat and went on toward the place
where they were to cut the poles. They descended
a ravine and came at length to a sort of swamp or
morass, where a great many small and slender firs
and spruces were growing. The place was a
swamp in the summer, but now the ground was
covered with snow, and this snow was so hard that
Wallace and Phonny could walk upon it, as well as
they could upon the most solid field.
Evergreen trees, like firs, spruces, and pines,
furnish the most suitable wood for such poles as
Wallace and Phonny were in pursuit of, for two
reasons. One is, that they grow very straight,
while maples, beeches, oaks, and other hard wood
trees, as they are called, are always more or less
crooked. The other reason is, that the wood of the
evergreen trees is light, while that of the hard
wood trees is heavy. The wood of the latter class
of trees is strong too, as well as heavy, so that it is
much more suitable for some purposes than the soft
wood of the evergreens. But for Phonny's harpoon-
poles, lightness and straightness were the qualities
most required.
It is also necessary, in order to get suitable wood
for such poles, to find young trees that are very tall
and slender, and such as have few branches along
-,he main stem. For this reason it is necessary to
go into woods or swamps, where the trees grow in


great numbers and very close together. Trees that
grow singly in the midst of an open field are always
comparatively short and low, and they throw out a
great quantity of branches and foliage on every
side. While those that grow in dense masses in
the forests form tall, straight, and slender stems,
with only a small tuft of branches and leaves at
the top.
Wallace had accordingly led the way into a
swamp in the upper woods, for there was a spot
there, in which the small firs and pines grew very
thick together, and were consequently very slender
and tall. Wallace began to look about among these
trees in silence, to find one suitable for his purpose.
Phonny began to look about too, though not in
silence, for he called out continually: Here's one,
Wallace! straight as an arrow;" and "Oh, look
here, Wallace! look at this one;" and "Here's a
beautiful one, Wallace! unless it is too big."
Wallace went to see two or three of those that
Phonny first called his attention to, but he found
them all unsuitable. Some appeared straight as
seen from the point where Phonny stood to look at
them, but on moving round a little way, so as to
obtain a different view of them, they were very
evidently crooked. Others were too short, others
too large.
At length Wallace got tired of going to examine
Phonny's discoveries, which always resulted in no-


thing. You ought to examine them more care.
fully yourself," said he, before you call me, and
so satisfy yourself first. It is useless for me to
come just to show you that a pole is crooked, when
you have got eyes of your own, to see that it is so.
Don't call me again until you have examined the
pole in all its points, and are fully satisfied that it is
a good one."
What are the points?" asked Phonny.
It must be not more than two inches and a
half round at the ground, nor less than one inch
where it is to be cut off at the top. It must be
about three times as tall as you can reach, and it
must have but few branches except at the very top.
Then it must be pretty nearly straight, whichever
side you look at it."
After looking about for some time Wallace found
three poles, and Phonny one, which answered very
well. They out them all down, and then trimmed
off the tops, and the branches. They then lashed
'them, together with the axe, firmly upon the sled,
and began to move toward home.
They stopped on the way to find Franco, but he
could not be found. They looked under the root of
the gleat tree where Phonmy said he had fled, but
he was not there. Wallace said he did not know
what more to do, and so they left the place and went
on toward home.
Phonny was very much troubled at the loss of


Franco, but Wallace thought it probable that the
dog had gone down home, and that they should find
him there on their arrival; or at least that he would
come home some time that day. He endeavoured
therefore to divert Phonny's mind by talking with
him and amusing him in various ways. He would
slide down the slopes of snow, taking Phonny upon
the sled before him. At one time they came
swiftly down a hill at a place where there were
thickets of trees and shrubbery at the bottom, and
Phonny was very much afraid of running into them.
He called out aloud-
"Oh, Wallace! Wallace! you are running
against the woods!"
But Wallace knew that the sled was fully under
his command, for he could press his heels into the
snow and stop it at any moment. So he went on until
he reached the bottom of the hill, and then stopped
suddenly by means of his heels.
Phonny saw a rabbit which had been frightened
out of the thicket, by their approach to it. He
was thrown into a state of great excitement at this
sight, and called out to Wallace to look at the
rabbit, and then he ran after him as fast as he could
run. He soon came back, however, without having
been able to overtake him.
How I wish that Franco had been here," said
he. What a pity it is that he got lost before I
saw that rabbit! How unlucky "


How fortunate!" said Wallace to himself-
though he said nothing aloud.

As Phonny came in sight of the house, on his
return from the woods, which he did when they
arrived at the turn of the road under the foot of
the precipice, the thought of Franco returned, and
the pleasure which he had felt in having been so
successful in obtaining poles, was almost wholly
displaced by feelings of uneasiness and anxiety, at
the thoughts of what Madeline would say when she
found that Franco was lost. He then recollected,
too, that hhe ad promised to bring Madeline some
snowdrops, and he had not once thought of looking
for any.
"There!" said he, stopping suddenly; "I must
go back, after all."
What for ?" asked Wallace.
Phonny was drawing the sled, and Wallace was
walking a little before him. Phonny stopped, but
Wallace continued to walk on.
"To get some snowdrops," said Phonny. "I
promised Madeline some snowdrops."
"Oh, there are no snowdrops," said Wallace.
"There will not be any for a fortnight."
"Yes," said Phonny; "I think 1 can find some,
if you will only go with me, Wallace."
But Wallace had advanced so far, that he did
not hear vely well what Phonny said.

So he called out louder, Wallace !"
Wallace turned round, but continued to move on,
walking backward.
Can you not go back into the woods with me to
get some snowdrops ?"
"No," said Wallace, "my play-time has ex-
"Well, I must go," said Phonny, "for I pro-
mised them to Madeline."
"Very well," said Wallace; so saying, he turned
round and walked on as before.
He is going to his studies," said Phonny, in a
tone of contempt. "He is always a-studying. I
would not be in college, and have to study so much,
if the books were all of gold. Besides, it is vaca-
Phonny stood a moment in the middle of the
road, with a countenance expressive of disappoint-
ment and vexation, and then he concluded that he
would leave his sled with the poles and axe upon it
there, and go back and try to find Madeline some
snowdrops. He would probably not have been so
anxious to fulfil his promise, if he had not felt
neasy at having lost the dog. He wanted the
snowdrops as a sort of peace-offering.
He accordingly drew his sled to one side of
the road, that it might not be in danger if any
horses or oxen should chance to come along, and
began to go back up the hill. But as soon as he


was once more round behind the precipice, so as to
beiout of sight of the house, it began to seem very
lonesome and solitary for him to go back up the
glen alone. He thought of Franco too, and ima-
gined that he might be mad, and if so, that he
might bite him. He thought it very likely, in fact,
that Franco was at that moment tearing about the
woods, foaming at the mouth, and biting all the
little trees.
A f.Then besides," said Phonny, talking to himself,
"I am too tired to go away up into the woods
again; and I don't think that I should find any
snowdrops either, if I should go. Wallace says
that there are not any, and he knows. But perhaps
there are some up among these rocks. I mean to
climb up and see."
So saying, he turned off from the road toward
the right, and began to climb up among the rocks,
near the precipice where the pasture road turns. It
was very sunny and pleasant in one spot, where the
snow had almost melted off. Phonny sat down
there, and began to throw little stones down into
the road. After amusing himself there for some
time, he found a small stone which was quite trans-
parent and brilliant; he called it a diamond, and
determined to carry it home and give it to Made-
line instead of the snowdrops. He also found some
green moss, which was growing in a little sunny
nook. He pulled up a small specimen of that. He


was sure that Madeline would like the diamond
stone and the moss together, better than the snow-
drops; and so he climbed down from the rocks again,
and began to go toward home.
As he 'approached the house, he looked about
upon all the platforms and balconies, not as usual in
hope of seeing Madeline, but in fiear of seeing her.
He was afraid, in fact, to meet her, though he
hoped that Wallace had told her that Franco was
lost, so that she should not learn the tidings first
from him.
But Madeline was not to be seen. In fact she
was asleep. They always put her into her crib, and
let her go to sleep, in the middle of the day. This
Was partly because she was so young, and partly
because her health was so feeble.



PIONNY did not see Madeline again that day, until
the middle of the afternoon. He himself had a
lesson to study every day after dinner, in Wallace's
room.- He was required to spend an hour at this

lesson. Wallace had an hour-glass, which was set
in a square frame, so that it would lie upon its side
without rolling. Phonny was accustomed to study
by this hour-glass. When he was actually ready
to begin, he would set up the hour-glass upon ono
end, so as to let the sand begin to run. If it be-
came necessary for him to interrupt his studies to
go away for any purpose, or even to speak to Wal-
lace, on any account whatever, he was first to turn
the hour-glass down upon its side so as to stop the
running of the sand. And then it was only after
having returned to his seat and actually recom.
menced his studies, that he was allowed to turn up
the hour-glass again. This was a plan which Wal-
lace devised to prevent Phouny from coming to
him frequently to interrupt him with frivolous ques-
Phonny, while at these studies, was accustomed
to sit at a table by himself, near one of the front
windows of the room. Wallace sat in what he
called his alcove, which was a sort of recess with a
curtain before it, by the side of the fireplace. This
alcove will presently be more particularly de-
Phonny went to Wallace's room, as usual, after
dinner, on the day of the excursion into the woods,
and commenced his work; but thoughts of Franco
came continually into his mind, and interfered very
seriously with his studies. At last he turned the


hour-glass down, as a preliminary to speaking to
Wallace, and then said-
Cousin Wallace, I wish I had sent Beechnut up
after Franco when we came down. He could have
found him, perhaps."
"Yes," said Wallace, "that would have been a
very good plan."
"May I go now and ask him to go?" said
Yes," said Wallace, but you must leave the
hour-glass down."
Phonny accordingly went away to find Beechnut.
When he had found him he gave him an account of
Franco's strange conduct in the pasture. He re-
lated the story in a very eager and earnest manner,
and closed his narrative by saying he had no doubt
that Franco had run mad in the woods, and asked
Beechnut if he would not go and see what had
become of him.
Beechnut listened with great attention till Phonny
had finished his account, and then exclaimed-
Mad ? nonsense! He smelt a fox, that was
"A fox !" repeated Phonny.
"Yes," replied Beechnut, or some other such
animal. He is so young that it is very probable
that it was the first time he ever smelt a wild
animal, and he did not know what to make of it.
Whereabouts is he? I'll go and get him."

Phonny described the place where Franco had
hid under the tree, but he said that he and Wallace
had looked there, when they came down, but that
he was not there.
Oh, he is somewhere about there," said Beech-
nut, I've no doubt. I'll get the snow-shoes and
go and see."
"You don't need the snow-shoes," said Phonny;
"the snow is very hard."
"It was hard this morning," replied Beechnut,
"but it is very soft now."
This was very true. The warm sun had been
beating upon the snow all day, and had softened it
so effectually, that Beechnut would have sunk to
.his armpits in some places, if he had attempted to
go over it.
SSnow-shoes are a contrivance to prevent people
rom sinking in soft snow. They are large and flat,
and are shaped like the sides of a pair of bellows.
'They are made very light, of some kind of basket
work, or of woven thongs, with a margin formed of
some flexible wood like a hoop. They are intended
to lie down flat upon the snow, for the person using
them to step upon. They are so large and flat that
they cannot sink far into the snow, and so they bear
the person up, when he steps upon them. There is
a little strap near the centre of each snow-shoe, and
the person who uses them slips the toe of his boot
or shoe under this strap, and so when he takes up



his foot, he lifts the snow-shoe too, and moves it
along, and plants it in a new place. Thus he moves
along in a shuffling sort of gait, which is very in-
convenient and troublesome, but it is far better than
to sink down at every step, two or three feet into
the snow.
Beechnut came back very soon with his, snow-
shoes under his arm, and began -to go along up the
pasture way. Of course it was not necessary to put
on the snow-shoes until he should reach the deep
snow. For a very considerable part of the way
either the ground was bare, or else there was 'a sort
of road, where the snow was trodden hard. He
went on, therefore, in this manner, with his snow-
shoes under his arm, around the precipice. 'Phonny
watched him from a window. He wished very
much to go with him, but that he knew o6uld not
be, for it was his hour for study. The sand-'had not
yet half run out.
He stood on the platform a few minutes, irreso-
lutely, when there suddenly appeared to view one
of the village boys, named Arthur, who was one
of Beechnut's particular friends. He asked where
Beechnut was. Phonny told him the story. Arthur
seemed to become very much excited on hearing
it, and could hardly -rait for Phonny to finish his
narration, he seemed so eager to go after him.
Which way was he to go," said he, after he
got into the pasture ?"


Why, after you come to the great pine-tree,"
said Phonny, you turn down by-"
Never mind," said Arthur; I can track him."
So saying, he sprang away, and ran up the pasture
road as fast as he could go, and very soon dis-
appeared, as Beechnut himself had done. Phonny
then went back to his lessons.
He resumed his work, and turned up his hour-
glass; and after having been pretty diligently em-
ployed for about a quarter of an hour, his attention
was arrested by hearing some one softly opening
the door. He looked up and saw Madeline coming
in. He wished to avoid speaking to her about the
dog, so he looked down upon his books again,
and appeared to be very busily engaged at his
Madeline came to the table where he was sitting,
and stood there a moment, expecting that he would
turn the hour-glass down and speak to her, as he
usually did on such occasions. But Phonny just
looked at her a moment with a slight smile of re-
cognition, and then looked down upon his book
.again, and went on studying harder than ever.
Madeline, finding that he did not seem disposed
to put down the hour-glass, and knowing very well
that she must not speak to him while it was up,
concluded to lay it down herself; so she began to
take hold of it for this purpose. Phonny put out
his hand to prevent her, looking down, however,

immediately upon his book, and studying away with
the utmost diligence all the time.
I want to speak to you," said Madeline. She
said this in a very low and gentle voice, so as not
to disturb Wallace, who was also studying in his
alcove. This alcove, as has already been said, was
a sort of recess, between the fireplace and the wall,
where Wallace was accustomed to study. There
was a window in the recess, and room for a short
sofa, a table, some bookshelves, and a pair of steps
made to stand upon to get the books. There was
a double curtain before the alcove; it opened in the
centre, and could be hung up half on one side and
half on the other. The rule of the alcove was
this .-When the curtains were both down, nobody
could go into-the alcove or speak a wor1. anywhere
in the room. When the curtain on one side was
down, and on the other side up, then Madeline or
Phonny could come into the alcove, and sit upon
the steps and read the books from the bookshelves,
which they liked very much to do; but they were
forbidden to speak a word either to Walllace, or to
one another. When both sides of the curtain were
up, they were allowed to talk gently to one
another, and even to speak to Wallace, if they had
any particular occasion for speaking, but they must
not interrupt him unnecessarily.
Both sides of the curtain were now up, so that
Madeline knew that she might speak to Phonny,

fl MADreINEa.
ifshe .spoke,:iA a low tone So when she found
that Phonny would not allow her to put the hour-
glass down she said, "I want to speak to you."
Phonny did not.reply, except by shaking his
head slightly,, pointing at the same time to the
hour-glass, and going on with his studies as before.
Madeline began to look very much troubled
and distressed; she turned towards Wallace. She
seemed to hesitate a moment, and then moved
towards the alcove. She was evidently going to
appeal to him.
Phonny then put. the glass down, and said,
" Here, Madeline, come back; you may speak to
me if you wish to."
I want to know where Franco is," said
Why-Franco," said Phonny. He did not
come home with us. He thought he would stay
up there a little while. But Beechnut has gone up
to get him. And I brought you down a beautiful
diamond-stone and some moss; I hid them under
the platform. I will go and get them directly my
sand is run out."
So saying, Phonny put his hand upon the hour-
glass and was going to set it up again.
No," said Madeline, in a very mournful tone,
" I don't want the diamond stone. I want Franco."
Well, Beechnut has gone for him, and I expect
him back every minute," replied Phonny: "if you

,go down on the platform and look up the garden
road, I dare say you will see him coming now."
But what did you leave him up there for ?"
asked Madeline.
"Why, you see he smelt a fox, and I sup-
pose he stayed up there to catch him. Very likely
he has caught him and killed him by this time. If
he has, Beechnut will bring them both down,
Franco and the fox together."
"I don't believe he has killed any fox," replied
Madeline despondingly. More likely the fox has
killed him." So saying, she turned and went away
in great sorrow.
Phonny would not on any account have uttered a
deliberate falsehood, but he very often made misre-
presentations such as these. It would have been
much better if he had gone to Madeline as soon as
possible after returning from the woods, and tola
her honestly that he was afraid that Franco was
lost, and then related to her all the circumstances.
If he had done this, at the same time expressing his
readiness to make her all the reparation which was
in his power, as soon as it was ascertained that,
Franco was really gone, he would have done his
duty. It is far better and more noble in such cases
as this to act in an upright and honest, manner,
than to resort to a system of concealment and
Phonny attempted to resume his studies when

Madeline went away, but h wab s~ anxious and
uneasy that he found it very difficult to command
his thoughts. He was continually laying down his
hour-glass and going to the window, to see whether
Beechnut was not coming down the pasture road,
so that the sands ran out very slowly. At length,
however, they were all gone, and he shut up his
books and put them away.
He walked toward Wallace's alcove, and standing
there at the end of the table, he leaned upon it with
his arms crossed, waiting for Wallace to speak to
him. At length Wallace laid down his pen, and
"Well, Phonny."
"Do you think that Beechnut will find Franco ?"
said Phonny.
I don't know," said Wallace. "I know nothing
about dogs. I know something, however, about
justice and right, and I should think that, instead of
exercising your ingenuity to put Madeline off with
excuses and evasions, you ought to be trying to
devise means for making her some reparation, for
having lost her dog."
"How can I make her reparation?" asked
"I don't know," said Wallace; "that is for you
to consider."
"I might buy her another dog," said Phonny.
Can you get another ?"


"Yes," said Phonny. "There is another just
like Franco at the same place."
"Have you got any money to buy him with ?"
"Yes," said Phonny.
"How much have you got?" asked Wallace.
I have got four dollars and half a dollar, and
three quarters, and a ninepence; and besides that
Beechnut owes me two cents."
After having said this there was a pause. Pre-
sently Wallace took up his pen, as if he were going
to writing again.
Have you not any thing more to say?" asked
No," said Wallace, I believe not."
So Phonny rose from his leaning posture, turned
round, and went away.
Beechnut did not come back that night until
nearly dark, and then he came without Franco.
He said that he found the tree with the roots torn
up, and the very place under it where Franco had
hid, but that Franco himself was not there. They,
however, tracked him for some distance on the snow,
but at last they lost his track upon a patch of bare
ground, and though they wandered about a long
time, and examined the surface of the snow in every
direction, they could find no signs either of the
track or of Franco.
Phonny then told Madeline that he was very
sorry that he had lost her dog, and that he would


take the half-dollar that was among his money, and
go the next day and buy her another, and that she
might go too, if his mother would let Beechnut go
with them in the sleigh. His mother consented,
and so it was arranged that they were tor set out on
the following morning.
Madeline thought at first that she should not
like any other dog as well as Franco,-but then the
pleasure of going in the sleigh to buy him, would
make amends for the difference.
It was after all this business was thus satisfac-
torily arranged, that Madeline told Phonny the story
of the silver bowl, while they were going up-stairs
to bed, as is related in the last chapter, and when
Phonny made her laugh so heartily by saying-
"Silver huntsman, silver rabbit,
Give me an apple and I'll grab it."
It is an excellent plan, when there are young
children in a fainily, fr'the father or mother, or an
elder brother or sister, to go into their'room at night
after they have gone to ,bed, and talk to them, or
read to them, a few minutes before they go to: sleep,
-making comments upon the transactions of the
day, or giving them good counsel and advice. The
minds of the children, are at'such an hour unoccu-
pied and at rest. They like very-much to receive
sich visits at that time. The darkness and;stillness
of the night, Mid the approach of the hour of me.


pose, have a tendency to calm and quiet their
minds and dispose them to reflection, and make
them more than usually susceptible to good impres-
sions. Mrs. Henry generally went to see Phonny
and Madeline in this way, in order to have ten
minutes' conversation with them before they went
to sleep. The interview was always closed by a
short religious exercise.
On the evening of the day in which Franco was
lost, Mrs. Henry went to see the children as usual,
after they had gone to bed. Phonny and Madeline
slept in two recesses which opened from the same
room. Near the partition between the recesses, in
the room, there was a small table with a Bible and
a lamp upon it. There was a large and comfortable
arm-chair near this table. Mrs. Henry-or Wal-
lace, for sometimes Wallace came instead of Mrs.
Henry-used to sit in this arm-chair to read and
tack, and thus both the children could hear her.
The beds were so placed also, in the recesses, that
both the children could see as well as hear the
person, whoever it might be, that was sitting at the
little table.
First," said Mrs. Henry, after she had taken
her seat, I will read you three verses from the
Bible; Genesis, thirteenth chapter, seventh, eighth,
and ninth verses."
So she read as follows:-
And- there wa? a strife between the herdsmen


of Abram's cattle and the herdsmen of Lot's
And Abram said unto Lot, Let there be no
strife, I pray thee, between me and thee, and be-
tween my herdsmen and thy herdsmen; for we are
Is not the whole land before thee? Separate
thyself, I pray thee, from me: if thou wilt take the
left hand, then I will go to the right; or if thou de-
part to the right hand, then I will go to the left."
The reason why there was a strife," said Mrs.
Henry, was that Abram and Lot had immense
herds of cattle, and the herdsmen found scarcely
food enough for them as they wandered about.
Abram's herdsmen and Lot's herdsmen both wished
to get the best places, that is, those in which there
was the greatest abundance of green grass, and
where there were brooks of cool water."
The light from Mrs. Henry's lamp shone into
both the recesses where the children were lying,
and Mrs. Henry could see them both, as she raised
her eyes from the book to give the explanation.
Madeline lay very quietly with the back of her
hand upon the pillow and her cheek upon the palm.
Phonny raised his head up suddenly while Mrs.
Henry was speaking, ana remained in that position,
leaning upon his elbow, and looking earnestly at
his mother.
"But, mother," spid he, "why did not they

each of them turn their cattle into their Dwn
pasture /"
"They had no separate pastures," replied Mrs.
Henry, the land was all open and common, and
Abram and Lot were wandering about, all over the
country, driving their flocks and herds before them
wherever they could find the greenest grass. Now,
observe what a noble spirit Abram displayed. He
would not contend. Take your choice,' he says
to Lot. If you will go to the left hand I will go
to the right. If you prefer the right then I will go
to the left.' How generous and noble a spirit this
displayed,-instead of saying, as many persons would
have done in such a case, I have as good a right
to the left or to the right,' whichever might have
been the best, as you have.'
"That is the spirit," continued Mrs. Henry,
which children ought to manifest in dealing with
each other. They must bear and forbear. Younger
children, and girls, always have to suffer more or
less of injustice from older ones and from boys, and
they ought to learn to show in such cases the
patient and forbearing spirit which Abram evinced
in this instance."
Mother, I don't think that boys are always
unjust to girls. I am not unjust to Madeline. Am
I, Madeline?"
Madeline seemed to be trying to think, but she
did not answer.

"You are unjust sometimes. All older children
are sometimes unjust to those younger than them-
selves. They get eagerly engaged in the pursuit
of their own objects, and overlook the rights and the
happiness of others. Some children are more unjust
and selfish than others, but all are unjust and selfish
to a degree. A child that should grow up to ma-
turity without ever, either through inadvertency or
otherwise, encroaching on the rights of others, would
be a most astonishing phenomenon. He would be
something more than human."
I don't think I am unjust," said Phonny. I
am sure I am not."
Sometimes," said Mrs. Henry. "You have
been unjust to Madeline to-day, in respect to
Why, mother," said Phonny, I do not think
that I was to blame for losing Franco in the woods.
I did all I pos-ibly could to get him to come back
with me."', .
"I don't think," replied his mother, "that you
were to blame for losing him in the woods; it was
for taking him up into the woods at all."
Why, Wallace gave me leave to take him," said
"If Madeline wa swilling," said Mrs. Henry.
"Well," replied Phonny, "Madeline was willing;
I asked her."
"And did she say, Yes?"


Why, no," said Phonny; "but she did not
say I must not take him. I supposed that she was
"And did Wallace say that you might take him,
unless Madeline said that you must not."
No, not exactly," replied Phonny; "he said if
she was willing."
"And do you really think that she was willing?"
said Mrs. Henry.
"Why-I don't know," said Phonny, hesitatingly.
"I think she was not willing," said Mrs. Henry;
and thus you acted wrong in taking Franco with-
out her full and free consent. You took him away
from her, because she had not strength enough to
resist; you overpowered her."
Oh, mother !" said Phonny, she did not try
to resist."
"I do not mean by outward-force," said Mrs.
Henry, "but by remonstrances and expressions of
unwillingness, which were all the means of resist-
ance at her command. These you overpowered by
,your eagerness and urgency. It is true, this eager-
ness and urgency took the form of arguments and
:promises, but it was not in that character that they
exerted any influence. Madeline gave up at last,
because you were so impetuous and urgent, and she
Sculd not express her desire to keep Franco at home
Decidedly enough to oppose your importunity. Was
it not so, Madeline.?"


Madeline did not answer. Mrs. Henry looked
toward her, and found that she was fast asleep.
Phonny then admitted, himself, that it was so.
He said that he was very sorry that he had taken
the dog away without Madeline's consent; and he
was very glad that he had determined to buy her
another dog.
His mother then heard Phonny repeat his even-
ing prayer, and afterward, bidding him good-night,
she took up the lamp from the table and went



WHENEVER Beechnut had any thing to do for or
with the children, he always contrived to do it in
some very odd or curious way, that sometimes
amused them, and sometimes excited their astonish-
ment and wonder, but always gave them pleasure.
With all his drollery, however, he was a boy of ex-
cellent good sense, and he never adopted any plan
that was at all dangerous, or that would occasion
Mrs. Henry any uneasiness or trouble. She had
amrned, therefore, to place great confidence in

him, and accordingly she generally allowed him
to take his own course in every thing that he had
to do. His way usually gratified the children much
more than the ordinary mode of proceeding, and it
always came out just as well in the end.
On this occasion, accordingly, when Madeline
asked Beechnut, after breakfast, what sleigh he
was going to use for them to ride in, in going after
the new dog, he replied that he was not going to
take them in any sleigh; he was going to haul them
on a horse sled.
Phonny was delighted at this idea, and even
Madeline was very much pleased at first; but on a
little reflection, she began to feel uneasy; lest, in
attempting to ride upon a horse sled, she should
fall through between the bars. She said there was
not any floor to the horse sled.
"I'll make a floor," said Beechnut; "and not
only a floor, but a carpet; and not only a carpet,
but a sofa; and not only a sofa, but a canopy.
Come out into the barn and see."
So Phonny and Madeline went along through
the shed towards the barn, following Beechnut,
who led the way. Whey they got into the barn,
they found the sled standing in its place in a cer-
tain compartment, where all the farming vehicles
were kept. Beechnut went into a workshop which
was near, and brought out two very wide boards, first
bringing one, and then going back to get the other.

These boards were just as long as the sled, and
so wide that, when laid upon it, they covered it
completely between the stakes. They were boards
which had been made and were kept expressly for
this purpose.
There," said Beechnut, "there is your floor."
"Yes," said Madeline, "that is a good floor."
Then Beechnut went up into a loft, by means of
a ladder, and threw down five bundles of straw.!
Each one was tied up by a wisp of straw around
the middle of it. He placed these bundles upon
the sled; around the sides of it, close to the stakes.
Two were placed on each side, which made four,
and the fifth was put across the end behind.
"There!" said Beechnut, "there are your sofas."
"I don't like the sofas very well," said Madeline.
Wait a little," said Beechnut. He then went
into another part of the barn, and brought out three
or four buffalo robes, which he then proceeded to
spread down upon the floor of the sled, in such
a manner that they extended out each side far
enough to go down over the bundles of straw, and
to be tucked under them on the outside as blankets
are tucked under a bed. In this manner the straw
was concealed from view entirely, and the sled itself
presented a very inviting looking surface of soft
buffalo robes, hollow towards the centre like a nest.
There," said Beechnut, there are your carpets
and your sofa coverings all in one."


." Now I like it very much," said Madeline; "let
me get in."
Stop a moment," said Beechnu, until I put
the bearskin in for you to sit upon."
So he brought the bearskin and spread it down
upon the sled, over the buffaloes, so as to make a
comfortable seat for Madeline.
There," said he, when he had done this; it is
all ready now."
Phonny and Madeline accordingly tumbled into
the nest which Beechnut had made for them, and
began trying the various positions in which they
could sit and lie in it-finding apparently each
position more agreeable than those they had tried
before. They were in great glee. While they
were enjoying themselves in this way, Beechnut
continued at work.
He went into the workshop again and presently
returned, bringing with him three narrow strips of
board about five feet long. He brought one of them
to the sledge, and placed it across from one stake
to another, marking a place near each end opposite
to where the stake came. By this means, the dis-
tance from one stake to another, at the top, was
marked upon the board.
He then went into the workshop, and with an
auger, or some other boring tool, he bored holes at
the places which he had marked. These holes were
to receive the ends of the stakes. Beechnut bored


similar holes near the ends of the other strips of
board, and then brought them all back to the
sled, and began to put them across from one
stake to another, inserting the tops of the stakes
into the holes. The tops of the stakes were pointed
a little, so that they would enter the holes, but not
go in very far; and thus the boards would go down
over them only a little way. These strips passing
thus across at the top from one stake to another,
formed a set of rafters, as it were, or, in other
words, a frame for a roof.
What are you going to do ?" asked Phonny.
You will see," replied Beechnut.
The children did in fact see very soon; for when
Beechnut had finished placing his rafters, he went
into the stable and brought a new, clean, and hand-
some horse-blanket, which he proceeded to spread
over the roof that he had framed for a canopy. He
tied the blanket to the tops of the posts, by means
of pieces of twine, in order that the wind might not
blow it away.
"There," said Beechnut, "we will call it our
The sled being thus ready, Beechnut harnessed
the horse into it, and then drove it round to the
door. He brought out a box for himself to sit
upon in front, to drive, and a basket with a cloth
tied over it, which was apparently for the purpose
of bringing the new dog safely home. When all


was thus ready, and Phonny and Madeline were in
their places, and they were about to set off, Mrs.
Henry came to the door to look at their arrange-
Just before they set out, Phonny said that the
basket was in his way. Beechnut then told him
that, in order to remedy that difficulty, he might,
if he chose, take his hand-sled along with him,
drawing it behind, with the basket upon it.
Phonny was very much pleased with this plan.
He went and got his hand-sled, and put the bas-
ket upon it. There were stakes to the hand-sled
which prevented the basket from falling off. He
fastened the rope of the sled to one of the stakes
of the horse-sled, and then they all set off to-
The house to which they were going was a farm-
up house situated a mile or two from Mr. Henry's,
the glen. There were two roads leading to it, one
of which was under the north side of a hill. This
road had been so sheltered from the sun that the
snow had not melted away from it. At this season
of the year, the roads were generally bare in those
places which were much exposed to the sun. Beech-
nut was aware of this, and he, therefore, took the
shady road.
Madeline said that she liked to ride upon the
sled very much indeed, only she was afraid that
it was not very safe.


"Why not?" asked Beechnut.
"I don't know," said Madeline-" it seems so
"It's being so low," said Beechnut, "makes it
all the safer. The only danger at this time of the
year is of upsetting in going along the old drifts.
But a horse-sled is so low that it cannot possibly
upset. That was one reason why I formed this
It had been very sunny and pleasant at the door
when the party set out, but as soon as they passed
round the hill and had fairly entered the glen, it
began to be a little cool, and Madeline said that she
was going to cover up her head in the bearskin to
keep herself warm, and that Phonny must tell her
of every thing he saw.
"Well," said Phonny, "I will."
So Madeline lay down with her head upon the
sort of bolster which was made by the bundle of
straw at the side of the sled, and covered her
head. Phonny began to describe to her what he
saw as follows:-
"Now we are going along the road, with rocks,
and a high hill, and a great many firs and pines
upon one side, and woods upon the other. I can
see down among the trees to a deep valley. Oh,
here is a monstrous great log Now we have got
by it. And down there is a great black stump, that
looks like a bear standing up upon his hind legs."


Here Madeline raised her head, and peeped out a
little to see the stump. She did not think it looked
much like a bear, so she covered her head up again.
"Now, I think," continued Phonny, "that we
are coming to the mill. Yes, I begin to see the
mill. You need not look out to see, for you can
hear the water roaring. I can see the big wheel
going round and round."
Madeline was very desirous to see the wheel, so
she sat up again and looked out. She looked at the
mill a long time with great interest. It was a saw-
mill, and there were a great many logs all about
the yard. As soon as the sled got opposite to
the other side of the mill, she could see an open
place in it, where there was a monstrous saw going
up and down in the most rapid and violent manner,
sawing a log.
I don't see what makes the saw go up and down
so fast," said Madeline.
"Why, it is the water,' replied Phonny; "I
know all about it."
No," said Madeline; "for the water goes down
all the time."
"And the saw goes down, too," said Phonny.
Only half of the time," rejoined Madeline. It
goes down, and then it goes up."
It is the water, I am sure," said Phonny; for
I have been in a saw-mill, and I know all about it."
"How is it, then," asked Madeline, "that when


the water is all the time going down, it can make
the saw go down and then up?"
"Why-I know," said Phonny, hesitatingly;
" it is by the machinery, Madeline-the machinery."
Older students in science and philosophy than
Madeline, when inquiring into the nature of a phe-
nomenon, are often obliged to take from teachers a
'earned word in lieu of an explanation.
The sled had now gone past the mill, and so
Madeline lay down again, and Phonny resumed his
Now we are going down a winding road
through the woods. Now I can see the mill-pond
through the trees. Pretty soon we shall come to
the corner."
The corner which Phonny referred to was a point
where two roads came together. There was a
school-house built here, for the use of the children
that lived about the mill and up the glen. There
was a road, too, at the corner, which turned off very
near the school-house and crossed a bridge. This
was the road which led to the farmer's where they
were going for the dog.
"Now, I can begin to see the school-house,"
continued Phonny. I can see some of the children
sitting at the windows. They are looking at our
"Where? let me see," said Madeline. So saying,
she sat upright again, threw back the bearskin, and

oegan to look at the children in the window of the
Beechnut drove rapidly onward, and turning a
corner just before he came to the school-house, he
went down toward the mill-stream. This mill-
stream came from a great distance up the glen, and
emptied at last into the river at the place where the
boat-house was built. The bridge which the party
was to cross was a mile up the glen, and half a mile
above the mill. As the sled turned away from the
school-house, Madeline put her head down again,
and Phonny went on with his description:-
Now we are coming down to the bridge. I can
see the mill-pond, only it is all covered with ice and
snow. I see a man off toward the mill driving a
yoke of oxen down. He is going upon the ice. I
verily believe the oxen will break through."
Let me see," said Madeline, eagerly looking up.
Madeline watched the man for some time, while
Beechnut drove slowly up the hill beyond the bridge.
The oxen walked at their ease over the surface of
the ice, which was as firm as the solid ground.
They were drawing an immense log, which was
going to be sawn at the mill. Presently they
were lost to the view. Madeline, however, now
found that they were drawing pretty near to the
farmer's house, so she continued to sit up, and
looked about as they rode along.
Beechnut drove up to the house, and turned into

a spacious yard, which was surrounded with sheds
and barns. There was a young man in the yard
yoking up a pair of oxen. He was going to haul some
wood. He had attached the yoke to the neck of
one of the oxen, and was just bringing' up the other,
when the party upon the sled came in. He was
so surprised at the sight, that he left the yoke as it
was, with one end upon the neck of the ox, and the
other end upon the ground, and stood still in mute
astonishment. Presently he began to laugh, and
leaving the oxen and the yoke to themselves, he
came to see.
"Beechnut! what have you got here?" he ex-
"This is our palanquin," said Beechnut.
"Yes," said Phonny; "and we have come to
buy Tom.' Will you sell him to us for half a
Dollar ? .
"Why, what :have you done within. Franco?"
asked the young man.'
"We have'lot him," said Phonny He ran off
somewhere in the woods. He'went mad, or saw a
fox, or something. I expect he saw a fox and went
to catch him. Will you sell us Tom ?" -
S"Why, I don't know that we *cai spare Tom,"
'said the'young aman, in: a -doubtful sort of tone.
' So saying, he began~to whistle and' chirp, and to
call "Tom, Tom, Tom !i Here, Tom !'7 He called
very loud and rapidly.i But Tom did not come.


"He is somewhere about the yard," said the
young man; "look around for him, Phonny, and
you will find him.
SI will," said Phonny. "Come, Madeline, go
with me."
In the mean time, while this conversation had
-been going on, Beechnut had been fastening the
horse to a post, and he now walked away with the
young man, while Phonny and Madeline went to
se if they could find Tom. They first went into
the barn. They looked into the tie-up; there were
several cows lying there upon the straw, but no
Tom. Then they looked into the stable. There were
horses in the stalls, but Madeline was afraid to go in.
"Oh, there is no danger," said Phonny.
Yes," said Madeline, "they are kicking horses,
rII know. They are kicking now."
: No," said Phonny, they are only stamping."
8: Sosaying, he walked directly into the stall by the
side of one of the horses, by way of showing Made-
line that there was no danger.
,*'-"But this, instead of quieting Madelineks fears,
only distressed her the more. She said nothing,
.' however, but turned round and walked directly
away toward the open part of the barn-a part
which the farmers generally call the barn floor."
(0. Phonny followed her, and passing through this
-part of the barn, they came at length to a place
where the re were several doors.


Let's open this door," said Phonny, and see if
he is not in here."
So he took hold of the latch, while Madeline
stood by him timidly, with her hands behind her,
waiting to look in.
He opened the door, and they both looked in.
They saw a very small room with a sort of pen in
it, and in the pen were two lambs. The lambs
began to frisk about when they saw Phonny and
Madeline, thinking perhaps that it was somebody
coming to let them out.
"Oh, what pretty lambs!" said Madeline; "I
wish I had a lamb."
"Would you rather have a lamt than a dog?"
asked Phonny.
"Why-I don't know," said Madeline. She
spoke very slowly and hesitatingly, as if she were
thinking. The truth was that she would rather
have Franco back again than any lamb, but she
would prefer a lamb rather than any other dog.
"I should rather have Tom," said Phonny.
"But I'd rather have a lamb," said Madeline,
" unless I could have Franco."
"But Tom is exactly like Franco," said Phonny,
" exactly. You would not know the difference.
There is no difference, in fact."
So saying, Phonny began to turn toward the
door again, to go out. He did not wish that
Madeline should get interested in having a lamb,


for he, being a boy, naturally liked a dog better.
His reasoning, however, did not .satisfy Madeline.
Though there might be no difference in outward
appearance between Franco and Tom, there was
still a great difference in reality. Franco knew
her, loved her, would come when she called him,
and obey her orders. Tom, on the other hand,
would be a stranger. She could not at once
transfer her fondness for the one to the other, just
because they looked alike.
Phonny opened another door presently, and
found that it led to a sort of room with nothing
in it but some great chests. These chests contained
grain and other provender for the horses. The chil-
dren went through this room, and came out into a
pleasant yard beyond, but could find nothing of Tom.
There was a girl walking across this yard, carry-
ing a basket of chips into the house. Phonny
accosted her, sid asked her if she knew where Tom
"Yes," said she. He is sunning himself upon
the front steps; or was, a few minutes ago."
Hearing this, Phonny and Madeline ran round
to the front part of the house, passing through a
little gate which led from the side yard to the front
yard. There they found Tom lying at his ease,
upon a great, flat, stone step. He lifted up his head
and pricked up his ears when he saw the children,
but he did not move.

"Ah, Tom, Tom! said Phonny, "why did you
not come when we called you, you rogue ?"
"He is not obedient," said Madeline. "I don't
like him."
Oh, you can make him obedient. You can
teach him," replied Phonny.
So saying, Phonny advanced toward Tom, and
called him. Tom got up, but he did not seem
much inclined to come. Phonny walked backward,
called him incessantly "Tom, Tom Here, Tom!"
and many chirpings and whistling, while Madeline
walked behind, and attempted to drive him by put-
ting down her little foot with an air of authority and
saying, "Go along, Tom! You must go along!"
In this manner they succeeded at length in get-
ting him round into the yard where they had left
Beechnut and the young man. Here, after some
farther conversation, they succeeded in completing
the purchase. They gave the farmer's son the half-
dollar, and put Tom in the basket. He was very
unwilling to go in, and very eager to jump out
when he was in. Beechnut prevented this, however,
by tying a cloth over the top of the basket. They
put the basket back upon Phonny's sled, took
seats themselves in the palanquin, as Beechnut
called it, and then turned the horse round, and rode
away. Madeline was not satisfied with having Tom
instead of Franco; but she was of too gentle and
submissive a spirit to complain.




IT was quite warm and pleasant coming home, and
Madeline sat up under the canopy, looking about.
She watched the dog, or rather the basket which
contained the dog, for some minutes. Tom strug-
gled a little from time to time, as if he were trying
to get out; but when he found that it was of no
avail, he seemed to become quiet. He was so still
that Phonny said he verily believed that he was
asleep. He drew in the cord by which the hand-
sled was fastened to the palanquin, so as to pull the
hand-sled up very near to them. Phonny was going
to pull open the cloth a little, and peep in to see
what Tom was doing, but Madeline persuaded him
not to do it, lest he should wake him. So Phonny let
the string of the sled out again gradually, and
the sled fell back into its place, like a boat towed
behind a vessel.
Madeline was very much interested in looking at
the wild and romantic scenery of the glen. She
nad been accustomed to city life in New York,
where her father and mother lived, and every thing
looked strange and wonderful to her in this wild
and wintry valley. The picturesque precipices,. the
dark groves of firs and pines, the smooth and white


expanse in the bottom of the valley, which Phonny
told her was the mill-pond, covered with ice and
snow; the long winding road-track upon the ice,
with here and there a horse and sleigh, or a team
of oxen drawing a loaded sled, moving slowly
upon it, the school-house seen at a distance across
the bridge, and the bridge itself, with a little
snowy dell instead of a stream of water beneath it
-all attracted her attention and interested her very
At last, just before reaching the bridge, they
overtook a small boy, driving a pair of steers, that
is, very young oxen. The steers were drawing a
drag, which had a barrel fastened to it. The boy
drove his steers to one side of the road, when he
saw the palanquin coming, so as to make room
for Beechnut to pass by him. When he was fairly
out of the way, he stopped the steers, and stood
leaning upon them, and looking at the palanquin
with a countenance of great curiosity and wonder.
As it came up opposite to him, and he saw Beech-
nut and Phonny, his countenance relaxed into a
smile. He nodded to Phonny: Phonny nodded
to him.
Hye, Andrew !" said Phonny, does it run well
First-rate," said Andrew.
By this time the palanquin had got by, but
Madeline looked around and could see Andrew


bringing his steers back into the road again as they
rode rapidly on.
"Does what run well ?" asked Madeline.
"The sap," said Phonny. The sap from the
Phonny then explained to Madelin9 that there
was a kind of tree which had sweet sap, and thence
called the sugar maple, and the people in that
part of the country were accustomed to bore holes
in such trees, and drive in hollow plugs, and put
buckets on the ground, under the ends of the plugs.
The sap then which oozed from the trees would
run out through the plugs and drop into the buckets.
When the buckets were full, the men would pour
the sap into a barrel, and haul it home on a drag,
and so boil it down into sugar.
Boil it down into sugar? repeated Madeline.
"Yes," said Phonny, "they put it into a
monstrous great kettle, and boil it till it turns into
"Why does it?" asked Madeline.
"I don't know," said Phonny. "It always
If we could get some sap," he continued, and
put it in a kettle over a fire, and boil it down, it
would soon turn, first into sweet syrup, and after-
ward into sugar,-into maple sugar."
Let us try," said Madeline.
"Well," said Phonny, we will try some time.

There!" said he; you can see the buckets there,
under the trees."
So saying, Phonny pointed to the woods on one
side of the road. The trees were not evergreens,
like those which grew on the declivities of the
mountains, but the branches were bare. Madeline
could see a great way in among the trees, as there
were no leaves upon the branches. The ground was
covered with snow. A great many of the trees had
buckets standing close to them upon the snow.
Those buckets are full of sap-or getting full,"
said Phonny-" sweet sap."
"I wish I could go and see," said Madeline.
"You can," said Beechnut. There is a road
that leads in among the trees, a little farther along.
They came to the road pretty soon. It was the
road made by Andrew's drag. Beechnut drove in.
When he had got in among the trees that were
tapped, he stopped near one of them, and helped
Madeline out of the palanquin. Madeline was very
much interested in examining the plug, and in see-
ing the sap drop, drop, drop, from the end of the
plug down into the bucket. Beechnut pulled out
the plug, and let her see the hole which had been
bored into the tree. He also let her take the plug
.and examine it. It was hollow from end to end, and
she could look through it.
"How do they make such a hollow plug ?" asked


They make them out of elder-bush stems," said
Phonny. "You see the elder-bush stems have a
very large and soft pith, and you can punch the
pith out with a small round stick, and that makes
the plug hollow. I can make such plugs as these
myself. There are plenty of elder-bushes down by
the river stone."
This river stone was a large flat stone on the
point where the brook flowed into the river.
Phonny used very often to go there in the summer
to play.
"And are there any sugar trees growing about
your house ?" asked Madeline.
"I don't know," said Phonny. "Are there,
"Yes," said Beechnut; "enough for your ope-
Well," said Phonny, "let us tap 'em and make
some sugar. I'll make the plugs, and Beechnut
shall tap the trees. Or I '11 tap 'em-I'll get an
auger and tap 'em myself."
Madeline tasted of the sap, but she said after
tasting it, that it was not sweet at all. It tasted
just like water.
"I know it," s.id Phonny; "but after you boil
it a little while, it begins to get sweet, and as
you go on boiling it, it becomes sweeter and
sweeter, until at last it is as thick and sweet as

The children then got into the palanquin again,
and Beechnut, taking a great circuit around among
he trees, almost all of which had buckets under
them, drove out of the woods again. When he
reached the main road, he met Andrew and his drag
just coming in.
Soon after this the palanquin party approached
the bridge. As they were descending the little
hill which led to it, they came in sight of the
school-house on the other side. They saw that the
children were out in the yard of the school-house,
at play.
"It is recess," said Phonny.
"Yes," said Madeline; "and they have come
out to play."
Phonny and Madeline lost sight of the school-
house, as they descended the hill to cross the
bridge; but after crossing the bridge, and going
up the ascent on the other side, they came in view
of it again. Some of the children came forward
toward the road to look at the palanquin. Others
were standing at the side of the school-house,
where there was a hole in the wall under the
building, and were trying to look under. Beech-
nut stopped the horse when he got opposite to the
children that were looking at the palanquin.
He stopped in order to give the children of the
school an opportunity to see the palanquin. He
saw that they were interested in it, and that they


wished to look at it, and he was willing to gratify
them. So the horse stopped, and while those chil-
dren that were near the road were gazing on the
palanquin with surprise, wondering what it could
be, Phonny and Madeline turned their eyes to-
ward the others who stood near the hole in the
wall, and were wondering what they were doing.
A boy was walking along towards the hole,
with a stone in his hand.
"Joseph!" said a little girl who stood by,
speaking in a tone of remonstrance and alarm,
"Joseph, you shall not stone him!" The girl
stamped with her foot and spoke very sternly.
There was a boy kneeling down before the hole,
holding out his hand with a small piece of bread
in it, as if he was endeavouring to entice some
animal out.
"Here, Pompey, Pompey, Pompey!" said he;
" come here, Pompey; poor Pompey !"
"' It is a dog named Pompey," said Phonny.
Just then the head of a dog appeared near the
mouth of the hole. He had a white head with
tawny-coloured ears.
I verily believe it is Franco," said Phonny. So
saying, he sprang out from under the canopy, and
ran toward the school-house, calling, "Franco!"
It was really Franco; and as soon as he heard
Phonny's voice, and saw him coming, he ran out at
once from the hole, and began leaping and jumping


upon him, with manifestations of the utmost de-
Madeline was almost as much excited as Franco
at this unexpected meeting. She called to Phonny
to bring Franco to her, and as he came along very
slowly, she became very impatient, and was begin-
ning to get down from the sled, and go to him
herself. But the sun had melted the snow very
much by the side of the road, where the sled was
standing, and the place was wet. So Beechnut
drove on up into the school yard-or rather to the
area by the side of the school-house, for it was not
inclosed like a yard-and stopped at last in the
midst of the children. Franco then leaped up into
the sled, and curling down as close to Madeline
as he could get, he looked up into her face and
wagged his tail. Madeline laughed outright with
joy, though Franco continued to look perfectly
"I am so glad," said she. "I like him a great
deal better than Tom."
Phonny asked the children how Franco came
under the school-house. They said that they found
him lying on the steps when they came to school
that morning, and that when they tried to catch him
he ran under the school-house. They tried to call
him out, but they could not make him come, and
so Mary Bell put in some of her luncheon for him to
eat while they went into school. When they came


out in the recess, they found that he had eaten what
they had left for him, and Mary Bell was trying to
make him come out and get some more.
When the children told Phonny this, Mary Bell,
who was a very beautiful, blue-eyed girl, of about
twelve years old, was standing back a little way,
with her hands behind her. She looked pleased and
happy, and yet a little afraid.
Mary," said Beechnut, should you not like to
have a ride on this palanquin?"
"No, I thank you," said Mary.
"Yes," said Beechnut, go and take a little ride;
and you may take as many with you as you have a
mind to invite."
Here several of the girls began to say very fast
and eagerly, Me, Mary me, me I"
Mary looked around upon the children, and at
the palanquin, smiling and yet seeming to be a little
embarrassed and confused.
"Who would you like to have go, Mary ?" said
I should like to have them all go," said Mary,
-" if there was room ?"
"Plenty of room," said Beechnut. "I'll leave
Phonny and Madeline here till we come back."
"Well, stop a minute," said Mary; and she
turned round and ran toward the school-house.
The children began to dance about and caper with
delight. She's gone to ask the teacher," said


they. "But she will certainly let us go. She
knows Beechnut."
While Mary Bell was gone into the school-house,
Beechnut took Madeline out of the palanquin, and
let her sit down upon the steps of the door. He
also untied the string of the hand-sled from the
stake of the great sled, and drew the hand-sled,
with the basket upon it containing Tom, a little
aside. Mary Bell then came out. She told the
children that the teacher had given them leave to
go and ride. So they all began to clamber upon
the sled. The oldest children got upon it first,
and took their seats as close together as they could
sit, on the sort of ridge or bolster made all around
the sled by the bundles of straw which had been
placed under the buffalo-skins. The younger chil-
dren got in last, and sat down wherever they could
find a place in the middle. Some of the boys
clung to the sides of the sled, standing upon the
runners, and taking hold of the stakes at the same
time, underneath the canopy, to keep themselves
from falling off. When all was ready, Beechnut
took his seat upon the box in front, and began to
drive away. Madeline, sitting upon the steps and
holding Franco in her lap, looked on with great in-
terest; while Phonny was occupied sometimes in
gazing at the crowded palanquin, and sometimes in
peeping into the basket to see Tom.
The children upon the sled were full of glee,

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