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tesy which does n't belong to me. Shall I go corrupted accent. Philip found it very pleasant back and tell her who I am ?”

to listen to him, with the dreamy lights and moAlan was not sure but that he meant it. tionless shadows of the cañon below them.

“Oh, that 's all right. I was only laughing "We put out into the hills about moonrise. at the joke on my sister. I'm the emancipated It's a broken country after you leave the valone of the family. I don't hold by any old-fos- ley. We played hide-and-seek with the moon sil feud. I don't care whose son you are. I among the gulches—the little draws, you know, hope I know a gentleman when I see one, between the hills; Cottonwood is the biggest though it 's little practice I get in the know- of 'em. Finally she broke loose from the clouds, ledge. We 're not all scheme-ridden at our and there was the cabin — no light in the winhouse. I go in for a good time.”

dow, but the greaser's pony stood puffing by “ And do you mostly get it?" asked Philip. the door, his cinch not loosened; so we knew

“Not often; and when I do I have to pay we had n't long to wait. for it, as I 'm doing now."

“Pacheco heard us s'rounding the house, and Really? You are paying at this moment ? some one else heard us too. We did n't count That 's perhaps hard on me again.”

on the girl's taking a hand. She broke us all “This is part of it,” and Alan indicated his up, firing on us while Pacheco lit out up the bandaged arm. “ But it 's the least part. Do gulch. Peter tried to shove me into the woodyou happen to be acquainted with any of the pile, but we were n't a man too many. I'd boys at Gillespie's horse-ranch in the hills, up have looked pretty in the woodpile! They said it the river a mile or so ?”

was the girl hit me. Pacheco only fired twice; his Philip did not know Gillespie's.

horse was on the jump, and his shots went wild. “ Peter Kountze is the man in charge. My If ever I see that little girl of his, I 'll give her father gave me a horse when I was twelve, and back her bullet. The boys all laughed at me; let me ride with the range-riders, as they used said she spotted me in the moonlight on purto send a boy before the mast to cure him of pose. She did n't know what she was aiming the sea. I was n't cured; and now he thinks at. Every time she fired a shot she gave a I 'm turning cowboy. That's why it was so screech like a wildcat, and the boys would n't

a unlucky my getting mixed up in that Pacheco give it her back again because she was a wobusiness the other night when I was out with man. Anyhow, Pacheco got away, and I got Peter."

into a precious row with my father. They had " And what was the · Pacheco business'?" up the doctor from town, and he joked me: asked Philip

said the whole thing was in the newspaper, “Don't you read the “Wallula Gazette'? names and all. And that did n't help matters. Then, of course, you don't know the locals: Of course my father blames Peter, and he 's who 's in trouble, or who 's skipped, or who's bound I shall cut the whole concern. I won't, struck it rich in the Cour d'Alêne, or whose because Peter was not to blame. We both lost wife's got a ten-pound boy, or anything. Well, our tempers, and so it 's gone on. I saw you I'd got leave to go with Peter to Long Val- that evening in town, and Peter told me about ley to help him round up some cattle. But just you. “He ain't much for talk,' Peter says, but this side the bridge, before you get to town, we he's got a good eye, and he takes in the country met up with Sheriff Hanson and his men, out same's a States' horse when you turn him loose after this Pacheco, who is wanted for a cutting on the range.' I've noticed that. And if I had scrape. Sheriff said Peter 'd got to go along, my pony back, I could show you some counbecause he knew where Pacheco's girl lived, in try. But I 'm not to have a horse again till the hills back of Cottonwood Gulch. Peter had I've promised to quit riding with the boys; and no objection, only for me. I told him he needn't promise I will not. Am I to pass 'em to windlet that hinder —I'd take the responsibility; ward as if they'd got something the matter with and the boys said, 'Let the kid come along and them that was catching?" see the fun. I say, does this bore you?" Alan Alan rolled over in the grass and pulled his had caught his companion's eye wandering to soft felt hat over his eyes. the landscape.

I say, do you come up this way often ? " “Far from it. But let us go to the edge, and “I 've never been up before, but I 'm sure take it comfortably, with the view below us.” I shall want to come again,” said Philip.

“Like the gods beside their nectar," Alan sug- “I suppose you know all about the row gested with his usual“ freshness.” When they between our governors ?” were lying prone in the warm, brittle grass, with “I have heard an outline of it from mine." their faces over the brink, the lad went on with “ Is he very bitter ?” his adventure. His speaking voice was like his “ You may judge when I tell you there 's sister's, deep and sweet, with an odd, singsong no man of this region I so much wish to meet cadence in it; a voice that atoned for his lazy, as your father; there is no engineer I would

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rather work under; and all I know of him I fixed on the future. Do you know the Persian have from my own father."

proverb, “He that rides in the chariot of hope “ You can afford to say those things; you hath poverty for his companion'? It is sad to have been out of it, and your father has won. spend years on those long journeys, trying to It's not so easy for us to be good-natured. It overtake the future, but you would not have is for me, because I don't care about the scheme. us all time-servers, men of the present. And I hate this arid-land business; I think it 's a when they do arrive, those men of the future, kind of bewitchment, like the Dark Continent their names are not forgotten; or their works or the Polar Sea. Is n't there land enough with are not, which is better. I wish you were farwater belonging to it, without spending millions ther away from the scheme -" to twist the rivers out of their courses, and make “I wish I were,” Alan interrupted. “ It 's grass grow where God said, “Let there be a a pity we can't change places, since you seem desert'!”

to fancy riding in hope's chariot with poverty “Are you quite sure that was the word in alongside. I don't. There 's my sister come the beginning in regard to these desert lands?” to remind me. She 's afraid I'll cut five o'clock

“It don't matter," Alan retorted, superior, in recitations." his quarrel with fate, both to history and gram- The girl stopped beneath the ledge, and mar. “ It 's enough for me that it 's a desert looked up at the two faces against the sky. now. I should let it stay so. My father can Alan, are you coming down ? " build other things besides ditches. Every spring No; I 'm going back the other way.” and every fall the work 's going to start up, “ Then I will take the books.” She pointed and I 'm to go away to school; and every toward the way she was going, by the lower spring and every fall it does n't, and here I am. trail. I've no work; I 've no amusements; I 've “ Dolly!” Alan called her back. “Come nothing to do but loaf and study; and my fa- closer.” ther will tell you I stick to my books like cob- “I can hear you." bler's wax to an oil-stone! I've no friends but “ This gentleman”- the announcement was the boys, and now they 're put down. It 's no made very distinctly —"is Mr. Philip Norriswonder if I kick."

son. Mr.- Philip— Norrisson! Do you un“I hope you are not compromised through derstand?" me,” said Philip, smiling. “You showed me “Why do you shy my name at her as if it the crevice, it 's true, but the cave I discovered were a thing to be dodged ? My vanity profor myself; and I suppose I 've the same right tests," objected Philip. up here as the rest of the mob.”

“Oh, just to see her stare." “Ah, you are not the mob. Ditches be “ She does n't believe you." hanged! Have n't you been everywhere that Philip had been watching the girl's face. She I want to go ? and seen everything, and had kept her eyes upon her brother. the chance I ought to have had ? And yet I “ You are too silly for anything," she recan't ask you home to dinner, nor even meet marked in a conversational tone. you here, without a hangdog feeling that I 'm Philip longed to throw her a kiss in answer keeping something from my father — all on ac- to her charming, puzzled upward gaze. As she count of that idiotic scheme!”

turned to go there came the note of the canon“ Dunsmuir, have you seen a book called bird pealing through the deep cut - the wild the “Heroes and Martyrs of Invention'?”. broken song that insisted yet could not ex

“ No,” said Alan ; “not if it was published plain. She looked up involuntarily, as if askwithin twenty years.”

ing them to listen. Philip was fain to think that " It was; but the heroes and martyrs are her eyes sought his for sympathy: he could considerably older. For the most part, their not be sure. persistence was the despair of their families, All the way home, in the pink dusk, before and the ruin of their fortunes when they had moonrise, his aroused fancy was at play conany; but their lives make excellent reading. Structing a future which should include himThey were men, like your father, with a tre- self, his work, and the fair children of the canon; mendous power of affirmation. They had a with ever the dreamy canon-lights and -shadgenius for waiting. Of course there 's a tragic ows attending them on their way to better side to the life of every man whose eye is acquaintance.

(To be continued.)

Mary Hallock Foote.

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E left the landmarks of the past behind :


Wherethrough he aimed to sail forevermore,

Seeking within the waste, with steadfast mind,
Some brighter realm, untrod of human kind,

Some happy island, some Elysian shore.
From many an unknown coast he heard the roar

Of breakers, heard the voices of the wind
On unknown seas, but neither rising blast

Nor wave could daunt his soul, firm-set as he

Who first saw Calpe sink behind the mast,
Nor turned his prow, bent to explore the sea,

Whether its westering tides touched Asia vast,
Or washed the steep shores of eternity.


OMEWHERE, in dim Antarctic space, alone

There is a nameless rock, that with the surge

Wars, battling everlastingly. Upthrown,
Basaltic, black, time-scarred, from earth's fire-zone,

It stands unconquered, hears the wrathful dirge
The tempest utters from its whirlpool gurge,

And fronts the starlight with calm face of stone.
Carlyle was like that rock,- the peace was his

That reigneth at the hollow whirlwind's core,

The calm of faith in God, -as when the main,
After long rage, drags down some rugged shore,

And a deep stillness holds the night again,
So, now, that where he was dull silence is.

PALE traveler in regions saturnine,

Whose feet tread pathways steep as Alpine steeps,
Through passes desolate, where no light sleeps

Of this world's sun or moon, and no stars shine,
My heart aches when, with tender word and sign,

I try to cheer the gloom that o'er thee creeps,
Yet still thy soul its awful exile keeps,

A wanderer through fancy's vast confine.
The mind hath deserts, wastes unknown to men,

Yet unforgot of God; of none more sad

Sang Dante; by what whips of scorpions vexed,
Thy torn soul, wandering far beyond our ken,

Hastes through that hell, insanity, perplexed
By the dark doubt that thou, or God, art mad.

William Prescott Foster.

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