Изображения страниц
PDF
EPUB

sunlight; and then they turned aside among the trees, and fastening the horse behind a clump of birches, set off, stoutly and cheerily, on their tramp into the depths.

Jacob produced a little hatchet from the waggon, and with this, and his big jackknife, cut and prepared for each of the boys a long, tough, oak stick, before they started.

The walking was easy for a little way, impeded only by the underbrush and vines; bat by-and-by the soil grew rapidly more marshy and wet, and they were obliged to spring from tussock to stump, and from stump to tussock. Then their long sticks were of great service as leaping-poles.

Farther and farther they penetrated the weird gloom of the Swamp. Closer and ranker grew the smell of paludal vegetation; of the decaying woods, and all the debris of growth and death, that time and winds had scattered in the wild and secret recesses of the place. Bodies of animals lay here and there, sending forth a horrible effluvium to the infrequent passer-by. Twice they came within sight of the huge carcase of a horse, that had, perhaps, been driven there and slain, or had wandered in

and died.

On they scrambled, and leaped, and stumbled. Over the tangled roots, from stump to stump, above darkly shining waters,-a wearisome and awesome way; sometimes Found about, where was a boggy interval too wide to leap, until they found a pathway over some fallen log; and again springing, with the help of Jacob's long and stalwart arm, where their leaping-staves alone could not carry them.

"Don't you smell something horribly fishy!" asked Stephen, as a new odour assailed his unaccustomed nostrils.

birds. Ef they happen, anyhow,—gaapin' or so,-to drop a fish flyin' over, they never come daown to look for it, but jest let it lay, an' go straight back ter where they got it fer more. I donno whuther it's cause they're tew pesky praoud town up their kerlessness, or whuther they're sech fools that they donno haow ter mend th' matter. A leetle o' both, mebbe; same's 'tis with folks."

"Hark! what's that ?" cried Johnnie, suddenly, whose nerves were strung to an easily startled pitch by this time, through the strange aspects and odours, and the unearthly stillness and solitude with which they had been surrounded.

"Quawk! quawk!" sounded harshly in the air over their heads; and great, dark birds flapped heavily over the tops of the trees.

Suddenly, down dropped a small fisha river-herring-right before them, into one of the little dusky pools that gleamed, here and there, among the roots and sods.

"Quawk! quawk!" reverberated again, in still more strident tones, as the dispos. sessed heron soared up higher, making a restless circuit in the air, and then swooped off again in the direction whence he had come a moment before.

"There! that air feller's jest gone an' dorre it!" exclaimed Jacob. "Seein's believin', sure enough."

A little farther on, and they heard more and more constantly the flapping of the great brown wings.

"Hereabouts is where they collernize," said Jacob, looking up at the stems of the tall old pines they came out among at last,. in drier sort of soil, that seemed like an island in the surrounding morass. The tall trunks were whitened with the excrements of the birds that had held their undisturbed possession for nobody knows how many years. High up, against the rough, stained

"I smell everything, I think," answered Howard. "Why, yes," he added, "I do eertainly get just here, 'an ancient and fish-sides, were built their nests of twigs, set like smell.' What can it be ?"

"Why, fish, of course," replied Jacob. "We're comin' pooty nigh naow, ter the herons' head-quarters. Yer see, they hev a middlin' long stretch of it, from here ter the river, after their prevender; an' there's one thing that's pesky queer 'baout them air

semi-circularly against the trees, like wall. baskets. A strange settlement it was, and of strange inhabitants. The boys felt as if they had got into some wild, fabulous place, such as Sindbad the Sailor visited in his search after the roc's egg; and they looked up and around in a sort of indefinite ex:

pectation of wonders that might yet reveal | ter 'tend ter that pertickler set o? men fer themselves. a pooty consider'ble spell, My gran'sir'

"Naow!" said Jacob, "there's a job fer marched on, 'cordin' t' orders, 'cross the yer! Shin up, an' help yerselves !”

It was by no means to be done in a minute, however; neither was it, in any way, a very inviting undertaking. They waited awhile, resting and considering.

"Well, we're in for it!" said Howard, at last. "And we won't go home without the eggs !"

"That's real Yankee grit!" said Jacob, approvingly. "That's the way to take Richmond! Thunder an' guns! I wish my old gran'sir' was alive, jest ter show folks naowa-day, haow ter dew things! He never walked raound and raound a job; he jest went at it with both fists. Up there, 't Pollardsville gineral trainin', he gin 'em a lesson once, 't I guess folks ha'n't forgot yit!"

"Tell us all about it, Jacob!" exclaimed John, who had more than once been entertained with the like reminiscences. And as he spoke he settled himself comfortably on a pine stump, to listen.

"Yes, let's have it," joined in the other boys, making a like disposal of themselves. "Wal," returned Jacob, modestly; "I don't set up ter be no gret hand at a story; but seein' the congregation's all set'n ready, 'spose I must let yer hev it somehow.

"Yer see, ther' was a grand muster o' all the milishy raound; and my gran'sir', he was cap'n of a comp'ny. Th' Gov'nor, he was there, an' all the big folks; an' they trained 'em raound, 'n' revooed 'em, pooty much all day; an' then, towards evenin', they hed a sham-fight. They hed a hull brigade on the field, an' folks said, as seen it, that the manoovers was wonderful. Anyhaow, one on 'em must ha' ben sunthin' a leetle remarkable.

"Yer see, my gran'sir' was posted with his men way daown a' one side o' the field, an' fer some time he didn't hev much ter dew with the gineral goin's on; an' by the time his orders come, he was gittin' a leetle mite res'less. Fin❜lly the cunnel's orderly come ridin' up, an' gin the word, 'Forrud! march!' An' march they did! 'Twas gittin' duskish, an' somehow or nuther, arter th' word was gin aout, they didn't remember

trainin'-field, an' over a wall, an' straight threw a cornfield, till they fetched up fer a minute 'longside o' old Simon Spanker's barn; a tumble daown old thing, jest ready ter go to pieces. My gran'sir' wouldn't give in. He'd been ordered ter march, an' he warn't the man ter halt till th’ orders come. 'Daown with the barn, men!' says he. An', fact, them fellers pitched in with a good will: an' in ten minutes they'd laid the sides flat, an' marched over 'em! An' twar n't till the thing was nigh 'baout done, that the officers waked up, an' sent 'em word ter halt. It's my belief, ef they hedn't, he'd ha' marched to the North Pole, afore he'd ha' stopped!"

Peals of laughter from, the boys, at the story itself and Jacob's peculiar style of narration, echoed among the old trees, and startled the herons from their high perches.

"We may as well go to work," said Howard, rising from his temporary seat, and measuring, with an upward look, the nearest trees.

"Let's each choose one," said Stephen, "and see who'll shin it first, and find the most."

"So I say," assented Johnnie, who was eagerly awaiting the chance to exhibit his newly-acquired accomplishment, the result of most persistent daily practice among the cedars of the High Pasture; to the extensive detriment of his clothing, and sometimes of less absolutely extrinsic integument.

[ocr errors]

'Very well," said Howard. "I'll take this." And he laid his hand against the rough, encrusted bark of a tree, some thirty feet from whose base was built one of the singular nests whose outside promised so little, but within which lay, as they believed, such treasures of exquisite perfection.

Above their heads, among the tall, rustling tops of the pines, swooped and flapped uneasily the disturbed herons, little wonted to such invasion of their fastness; uttering almost incessantly the harsh "quawk, quawk," as they went and came,

or circled very restlessly and suspiciously great egg from between his distended lips, about. that he might reply.

"And I'll have this," said Stephen, taking his stand at the foot of another tree near by, which gave equal promise of reward for the labour of climbing.

"Here's a bigger nest than either," shouted Johnnie, "and not so far up. I don't care for that, though; I can shin as well as anybody now!"

"Here, Jacob!" called out Stephen. "Give us a start, will you? These trees are a pretty good armful, here at the bottom."

Jacob came over, and gave them the desired assistance, and very effectually; beginning with John, as the youngest and least experienced, though the latter rather scouted the favour.

Standing close under the tree, he first lifted the boy to his shoulders, and then, as he climbed upwards, gave him a vigorous boost, by legs and feet, till he got quite beyond the reach of a helping hand. In like manner he successively and quickly aided the other two; and now came the great scramble.

Stephen was the most expert, and Howard had the greatest length of limb; but Johnnie had less distance to climb, and, moreover, got the first "boost." So it ended in his reaching the goal just an instant before the others, who came up almost together. All three plunged their hands eagerly into the nests.

"That's what I call comin' pretty well up to the scratch!" called out Jacob, from below. "Look out, naow, an' don't break yer bones comin' daown! Got anything ?" "Yes, plenty!" said Howard, in reply. "Only one here," said Stephen, who had hoisted himself comfortably across a strong branch that started from the tree, just under the protuberance of sticks and straws that formed the clumsy, one-sided heron's nest.

"I suppose the bird 'll lay more. Anyhow, I've got it fast. How shall I get it down ?"

"Put it in your mouth, as I did mine," answered Howard, who had rapidly accomplished his descent, and now removed the

John, meanwhile, was coming down his tree carefully, without a word.

"Mine was a great nest, three times as big as Steenie's," said he, as he touched terra firma and looked round ruefully, "and not a plaguey thing in it!"

"That's a pesky shame," said Jacob, sympathetically. "Come ter look agin, I ought to ha' known better than ter start yer up that air tree. It's an old nest, by the size on 't. An' that's another cur'ous thing about them birds. They never build the hull house until they see haow big a fam'ly they've got; and then they just put on an addition front, 'nough ter 'commerdate, an' pull away the fust wall when the second's finished."

The heads of the three boys were clustered together over the herons' eggs.

"I thought it was strange," said Stephen, "that such big birds could grow up in such little nests; but I never should have guessed such a funny thing as their piecing out the house after the young ones were hatched. Aren't the eggs splendid, though?” he added, ecstatically.

"Won't they look superb, in the black walnut sawdust ?" said Howard.

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed John, uneasily. "I hope I shall get one!"

"Of course you will," replied Howard. "There's no end of nests round here. You don't suppose we're going home with one apiece! Isn't it queer though, to come through such a pokerish place, and among all sorts of filthiness, to get such beautiful things ?" Meanwhile, Jacob had been quietly exploring a little farther on. He stood now, with his hatchet in his hand, at the foot of a tall dead trunk of monstrous girth, that had years since apparently been scathed by lightning, and now stood nearly divested of branches-huge and bare-except where, high above, it was covered with a bas-relief of clustered nests, not adjoining, but in close proximity to each other.

"Here you are!" shouted Jacob. "A reg'lar fam'ly settlement! It's your chance, Johnnie! Come along!" And so saying,

he uplifted his hatchet, and struck a smart | his hatchet higher, and with a couple more

blow into the side, about two feet or so from the ground.

"Why, Jacob! What are you going to do ?" exclaimed John. "Cut down the tree ? I should think that was a queer way to get eggs!"

strokes made a second deep notch at similar distance, further up.

'Ha, ha!" cried Howard.

now!

"I see it

You're a brick, Jacob!" Resting his feet successively in the notches thus made, Jacob clasped the stem "So should I," returned Jacob, quietly. of the tree with one arm, and using the "But yer see, there's more 'n one way ter hatchet with the other, cut a third step for kill a cat, besides chokin' her ter death the ascent; and so on, till his head came with butter!" And, as he spoke, he aimed on a level with the group of nests.

THE LADDER OF FAME.

"TIs a ladder great and lofty,
Planted in the youth of time:
Many great have stood upon it,
Many others yet may climb.

On its topmost round are standing,

Some whose names can never die : And unwearied ones ascending

Upward gaze with longing eye; For its summit, bathed in glory,

Dazzles with unearthly light: Like a meteor, strange and golden, Flashing grandly on the night. Many throng to touch the ladder, Many rise above the ground; But among the crowd of climbers

Few can reach the topmost round.
Some have reached it-those whose virtues
Raised them high above their kind;
Others who with long-hid treasures

Have enriched the cultured mind;
Statesmen, who were great in council;
Heroes, who were great in war;
Poets, who in lofty measure
Drove the ills of life afar.

And their names will live in story,
And the battles they have won
Will inspirit us who follow

To pursue our path begun.
We may fail to climb the summit,

With the heroes gone before;
And on other rounds of greatness
We may rest when all is o'er.
Let us fight our battle nobly;

Let us do our duty well; Living truly, living nobly, Though we may not all excel.

Child, when in thine hour of pleasure
Thou could'st dream of nought but play,
Think of those departed great ones,
Who have nobly gained the day.
Youth, when thine elastic spirit

Whispers that the way is plain,
That the way is but before thee

And thy part is but to gain,
Think of those with parts as brilliant

Who have climbed life's hill in vain;
Finding sunlight mixed with shadow,

Sweetest joys entwined with pain.
Why have they been less successful

Than the happy few who gained?
They have laboured, wanting courage,
Quailing when misfortune rained.
Brother, who perchance despairing
On the verge of Autumn's sun,
See'st no ray of light to guide thee

To the goal thou hast not won,
Think of those in life's mid-summer,
That have made themselves a name;
Push thou onward then in earnest,
And thy way shall point to fame.
Aged sire, whose winter neareth,
Ere thy passing cycles flee,
There are hours for thee to cherish,
For the climbers look to thee.
Though perchance thou dost not rest thee,
On the topmost round of fame,
Fill thou well the part still left thee,
Bear thou well thy aged name.

All must work, and all must battle
With the talents God has given;
But 'twere vain earth's brightest laurels,
If we lose our goal in heaven.

ROBERT STENSON PRINGLE.

MR.

THE ODD BOY ON STORY-BOOKS.

[R. EDITOR,-I always was, and I suppose I always shall be, deeply attached to story-tellers. I do not mean characters so described in early life, and who were duly warned of what might come of it by the fate of one who was

"Caught with a lie upon his tongue."

I mean the tellers of stories such as Robinson Crusoe, &c. I have had a jolly lot of fiction in a school locker; I have carried contraband romances with me to bed; I have made my head hot and my eyes weak in reading by firelight; I have steeped my. self in wonderful "hatch-ups," till I have nearly forgotten my own identity. You asked me the other day whose stories I liked the best, and I wanted time to answer -I loved the lot; my appetite omnivorous, it is not so good as it was, and it is more exacting; I do not relish things as I used to do when I read on the sly-perhaps there is some truth in that proverb which tells us that stolen fruit is the sweetest.

When I was a very young boy, I received, as a present, eight interesting volumes of fiction; blue covers, about three inches square, with pictures-wood-cuts in an early style of art-wood-cuts which I coloured elaborately and showily, having an unpleasant taste of gamboge in my mouth, and specimens of crimson lake, Prussian blue, king's yellow, &c., &c., all over my pinafore. I was not sufficiently well versed as to read the works with any comfort to myself, but a good-natured aunt of mine frequently read them to me after I was in bed at night, and then I went to sleep and dreamed. And in my dreams I saw a band of robbers and a wood-cutter, and jars of oil, and a maid-of-all-work dancing. I saw a poor girl sitting in a cold and dismal kitchen, visited by a god-mother who conjured up a carriage and horses, and was in all points equal to the "milk-pan wearer" of nursery lore, who made a glass pair of stairs out of a pig-stye parlour door. I saw

a little slipper, and the unhappy made happy by putting her foot in it. I saw à man with an indigo beard, and one of Eve's daughters who opened a forbidden door, and saw her murdered predecessors. I saw a palace full of people fast asleep, all wakened up by the visit of a mysterious prince. I saw a white cat; I saw a yellow dwarf; I saw giants without number; I saw a beanstalk; and I fraternized with three bears. I never forgot those stories how should I? Last Christmas I met the Forty Thieves in Covent Garden; only last week I saw Bluebeard at the Polytechnic.

Not long after my introduction to Cinderella, Fatima, and Co., I made the acquaintance of two young gentlemen, and the name of the one was Sandford, and of the other, Merton. They were residing with a clergyman named Barlow; and their chris tian names, Tommy and Harry, seemed familiar to me, as they were associated with a story in an old spelling-book. As for Mr. Barlow, he was not anything like so amusing as Billy Barlow, who "stuck in the mud;" he was more instructive. I never felt altogether comfortable with him, but respected him very much indeed. I know who I liked a great deal better, and that was a gentleman with a hairy coat and a hairy cap, a long beard, an umbrella, a cockatoo, a goat, a gun, and a black servant. He was Robinson Crusoe, and his slavey was Good Friday. I lived on the island with him for a long while. I helped to build the boat, to strengthen the stockade, to sow and reap, and to catch fish and snare birds. I had fine times of it-rough and ready-till a ship came and fetched me off to Spain. There I met a tall, grave gentleman, in oldfashioned armour, riding on one of the leanest of lean horses, and 'tended by a squire as fat as his master was lean. I had some fun with them, as I soon found out that the poor gentleman was a little so-so in the upper storey, and that his squire was really a good fellow, though something of a

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »