son. They were getting ready for a trip; but as the weather grew bad, they waited for it to grow better. But it grew worse so fast, they could n't get ashore at all. They had a small boat fastened to the stern, and as a last resort they were to use that; but it broke loose, and there they are." "If the storm increases, or continues all night, what will they do?" said Roland. "That is more than man can say," replied the stranger. "The steamer has no cabin. They are where there is n't much danger of the "Didn't he succeed?" the boys inquired. "Succeed? No! A wave tumbled him over and brought him ashore, as if he had been made of cork. He started into the water again a minute ago, as if he were going to make another attempt, but there was something wrong about the rope he had tied to his waist, and he went back to arrange it." "Is n't such a storm on this lake something unusual?" Dean innocently wished to know. "Unusual!" exclaimed the man. "There has been nothing like it known here for twenty years!" waves washing them off; but the spray, you see, is flying over them, and anybody who ever got any of that into his eyes or nostrils can judge something of what those poor fellows must suffer." The boys had been so much absorbed in watching the endangered steamboat and her small crew of two, that they had not noticed some movements taking place on the beach. Dean now asked what they meant. "Don't you know?" replied the man. "The chap in a rubber suit is the great swimming captain, who was to have given an exhibition here this afternoon. He has just made an attempt to carry a line out to the men on the steamer." As the rain was coming in hurried volleys, dashing into the boys' faces, they regretted not having borrowed the Duke's umbrella; yet they noticed that the few spectators who had umbrellas were unable to hold them in the face of the tempest; more than one was wrecked and had to be furled. So they, like their gray-headed acquaintance on the bank, turned up the collars of their tightly buttoned coats and pulled their hats over their eyes. And this is the way they saw Great Salt Lake. But how was His Grace the Duke seeing it? The train had started again, and his car, with its storm-pelted windows, was running off with the rest on a side track, at a distance from the shore and half a mile farther on. There it was left in the midst of a desolate plain, and enveloped by a blinding storm! "He is going to try it again!" Dean cried, and he and Roland winked the water from their eyes, the better to see the famous swimmer put his art to a practical use by carrying a line to the distressed men on the steamboat. He waded out, cased from head to foot in his rubber suit, but unfortunately with his features exposed. He passed the tumbling surf of the first breaker without being taken off his feet. He encountered the second with a brave leap at its crest, and, strongly swimming, using his paddle, passed that successfully also. Then came the third roller, tossing, toppling forward, already crushing into foam with its own weight. "What a lovely sunset!" laughed Roland. "We shall have had our bath anyhow," replied Dean; "though not just as we anticipated." "And we have seen the Captain's performance," added Roland. The situation under the pavilion roof was not comfortable, but the huddled crowd afforded them a slight protection from the driving storm. Though chilled and wet, waiting for the train, they kept up their spirits by an exchange of jokes, by listening to the talk of their fellow-sufferers, or, when their patience was nearly exhausted, by thinking how much better off they were, at the worst, than the two men whom they could still see tossing on the stern of the little steamboat. Meanwhile the tutor adhered to his resolution to remain in his seat, whatever happened, until something happened which caused even him to spring up and rush out of the car. The train had run on to Lake Point, where the conductor, passing through, announced that passengers for Salt Lake City must take another set of cars, standing on an adjacent track. This the Captain took valiantly, making a plunge to dive through it, which he could have done easily enough had the wave been any ordinary sea-water. But its extraordinary buoying power and great momentum were too much even for the great swimmer. Besides, the poisonous brine got into his eyes and nostrils. He was scarcely visible for a moment, then he was seen tumbling like a rubber ball, as light and almost as helpless, in the midst of the breaking surge. He had lost his paddle, and he seemed also to have lost all power of governing his motions, in the dashing waves. "Merciful heavens! the man will drown!" ex- plunge must be made, and made at once. With claimed the gray-headed spectator. With one impulse the cousins rushed down to the beach, in order to assist in the rescue of the gallant Captain. Fortunately his friends on the shore had hold of the rope he was carrying to the steamer; and, seeing it was impossible for him to proceed, they hauled him back to land. He was taken out and lifted upon his feet, blinded for the moment, coughing and strangling terribly, and even unable to stand without support. The boys scrambled back up the bank, with wet feet and a taste of spray from the lake on their lips. There they remained a while longer, watching with great anxiety the two men on the plunging steamboat, and waiting to see if the Captain would make another attempt to rescue them. He was soon taken by his friends to the bathing-house, where his drooping attitude, as he stood on the platform, did not give promise of further efforts on his part. "There's no hope for those men, except in the wind's going down," said Dean. "We can't wait to see that." And the two boys hastened to find what poor shelter they could at the open shed of the station. Their feet were splashed with the brine of the lake, and the rain was fast drenching them. A distance of only two or three rods intervened between the two trains; but the wet grass and bushes, bowing to the storm, caused the Duke, after he had reached the platform of his car, to recoil in dismay, and look at his precious boots. There was no time to hesitate, however; if he wished to get a seat in the returning train, the his umbrella spread, taking long strides, and stepping high, he crossed from one car to another, and succeeded in getting a place as good as the one he had left. But his boots! The newly made-up train, after many hitches and delays, moved slowly back to Garfield, where there was a final rush for the few places left in the close car, and for the long string of open cars which were the last to be filled. The boys were fortunate enough to get into the same car with their tutor, but again they had to stand, which they did without complaint, resolutely declining his repeated offers to them of his seat. They were very jolly, as healthy and good-tempered boys have the gift of being under adverse circumstances; and while their teeth almost chattered with the cold, they assured His Grace that they were having a 'splendid time." 66 It took the heavily laden train a long time to start, the driving-wheels of the two engines whirling on the wet and slippery rails. Night had closed in, when at last it moved; and the boys took their last look at the plunging steamer and the two solitary men standing on the stern, in the rain and tempest and gloom. For some time longer they could see the white excursionists; and, the vehicle being nearly full, called upon the conductor to start. breakers, through the darkness and storm; and selves, along with a number of other dripping Roland, nudging his cousin, remarked: "Rather lively for a dead sea, is n't it?" And again Dean quoted the misleading guidebook: "It sleeps forever! No waves dance over it, no surf ever breaks the stillness -' and I suppose no rain ever falls here either!" he added, stepping aside to avoid the drip from a leak in the roof of the car. The night ride back to the city was exceedingly dismal. The little rickety, narrow-gauge car was dimly lighted, the hurricane howled about it and drove into it, the rain fell upon it in torrents and beat in at every crevice. The Duke spread his umbrella to protect himself from a leak directly over his head; and others, who were lucky enough to have umbrellas, followed his example. Clouds buried the mountains, and the darkness outside the car windows became intense. It was half-past nine when the train approached the city, and to the great joy of the chilled, weary, and hungry boys, came to a stop. They supposed it had reached the station, and were not pleased to learn that it had stopped on an up-grade two blocks away, from the utter failure of the engines to haul it farther. Five, ten minutes elapsed, and no progress was made, the locomotives puffing and jerking in vain. The rain was still pouring, and the streets were but dimly lighted by far-away lamps. Suddenly Dean exclaimed : "Only two blocks away! I am going to walk to the station." The tutor remonstrated in vain; any adventure seemed better to the boys than standing there on their weary feet, in their damp clothes. Roland followed Dean, and stepping from the car went with a splash into a pool of water that covered the ground beside the track. A brisk run through wind and rain and mud and water brought them to the station, where long lines of coaches, horse-cars, and omnibuses were waiting. Into one of these last the boys threw them But he said he could n't start until the train arrived; and now the boys seemed worse off than if they had remained in the car. There was no knowing how long they would have to wait. They were already about as wet as they could be; but the run had warmed them, and a longer run might warm them still more. And once more "Come on!" cried Dean. leaping out into the storm and flood, they started for the hotel. They were the first of the excursionists to reach it. All in a glow from their exercise, they hurried to their rooms, put on dry clothes and slippers, and walked comfortably and cheerfully down into the dining-room, just as the coaches and omnibuses began to arrive. It was twenty minutes later when His Grace the Duke walked into the hotel, almost as wet as the boys had been, notwithstanding his overcoat and umbrella. He had been one of the last to leave his place in the car, and when he did so, not a seat in coach, horse-car or omnibus was to be had; and he had been obliged to walk through the flooded streets in those boots! The next day the boys saw the Captain at the hotel; and walking up to him with a polite "I beg your pardon, Captain!" Dean inquired what became of the two men on the little storm-tossed steamer. "They staid there all night," replied the Captain; "and I was one of those who remained to encourage them by keeping lights burning on the shore. Fortunately for them, the storm lulled, but the lake continued so rough that we could n't get to them in a boat and take them off before this morning. They were more dead than alive." "And, Captain," said Roland, "allow me to ask you how you like Salt Lake to swim in?" With a grim smile the Captain turned and walked away. NOTHING IS EASIER. VERY Soon the candy slips In between your open lips — Let sweet thoughts into your mind Just such ready entrance find. WAS in the year 1635. On a November afternoon Mrs. Rachel Olcott was spinning flax in the cheerful kitchen of a small house not far from Plymouth Rock, in Massachusetts. East ward from the house, the ocean broke with a sullen roar on the rocks of the coast below; northward lay the few homes of the few Pilgrims who were Mrs. Olcott's neighbors. Captain Olcott's ship had sailed from Boston for England, in the year 1632, and had not been heard from. that all the Puritan matrons wore, and hurried over the hill, as fast as the drifting snow would permit, to the house of her nearest neighbor, Master John Hawley. As she drew the latch and walked in with impetuous haste, up sprung John Hawley and stalked to the corner, where, ever ready, stood his trusty musket. "Indians, Rachel?" shrieked Mrs. Hawley, springing to drop the curtain that hung above the one window of the room. "Put up your musket, friend," gasped Mrs. Olcott. "It is my boys who are in danger. They went to the mill with grist. Lucy is with them. Oh, save them!" she pleaded. They 're young and tough; they'll weather it The little band of Pilgrims had ceased to look through, and be home by supper-time," said John for news from the captain or his ship. Mrs. Olcott kept up a brave heart and a cheerful face for the sake of her four children, Robert, Rupert, Lucy, and poor, crippled little Roger; but this November afternoon anxiety filled her heart. Day by day her little store of provisions had lessened under the stress of hunger until even the corn-meal had vanished, and it became necessary to send corn to be ground at the only mill in all that region. Early in the day, Robert and Rupert with their sister Lucy had been sent to the miller's, for it was well understood that each comer must await his turn at the mill. This grinding in those early days was slow work, and much of the day had passed before Mrs. Olcott expected them to return. But when the sky grew dark and the snow began to fall, the loving mother grew anxious. She drew the great arm-chair, in the cushioned depths of which poor, pale-faced little Roger lay curled, far into the fireplace; and then, when anxiety grew to fear, she threw over her head the hooded red cloak Hawley, the stanch Puritan, dropping his musket to its corner. "I'll step over after supper and see. Go home, and don't worry." To him, nothing less than Indians seemed worth a moment's uneasiness. When he turned, Rachel Olcott was gone, and his wife was at the door, watching the red cloak as its wearer urged it through the snow. "A woman has no business to look as she does," exclaimed Mrs. Hawley, closing the door. "She's had trouble enough in Plymouth, goodness knows!-her husband lost, and that crippled child to care for night and day, those boys to bring up, and hardly enough money to keep soul and body together. And there she goes this minute with a face like a sweet-brier rose"; and John Hawley demanded his supper at once. He had it, his wife looking as stern as any Puritan of them all, as he put on his greatcoat and went out, saying: "If those youngsters have come home, I'll be right back." |